If her eyelashes moved too slowly, he would probably start preparing herbs. If she breathed too deeply, he would likely call half the palace. If she sighed, he might carry her straight into the fire because he thought warmth could fix everything.
Zyran was still sitting beside her, holding her hand like he had been assigned a very sacred task and was pretending he did not care about it. His red eyes moved lazily toward Cyrus, but his fingers did not let go of Isabella's hand.
"She is alive," Zyran said. "I know you were worried I might ruin her in the few breaths you were gone."
Cyrus placed the basket down beside the bed and immediately looked at him. "You did not scare her?"
Zyran's expression became offended. "I kept her entertained."
Isabella nodded seriously. "He did. Very badly, but he tried."
Zyran looked at her. "You laughed."
"I laughed because you were ridiculous."
"That still counts."
