My eyes jerk toward the mouth of the cave just as Vikramaditya steps in, ducking low beneath the arch. His tunic is torn at the hem, his hair damp with dew, and he is cradling a broad leaf piled with berries.

"Here, my beloved," he drops to one knee before plucking a red berry and holds it up. "Try this. It's sweet."

I don't even blink. "When are we going back to the palace, Vikram? I'm tired of this cave. Tired of pretending this is normal."

He exhales slowly. The berry drops back onto the leaf. "Not until Gurudev gives his word. You're healing, but your body is still too weak to make the journey."

"You've been feeding me that same line for days," I snap in frustration. "I can run, Vikram. I can run from here to the edge of the woods and back if I have to. Why won't you ask him? Ask Gurudev. Let him say it to my face."