Praetorian Rising, стр. 94

"See you in the kitchens?" Vesyon said, his brow furrowed and eyes flooded with the shadows of concern.

"Be there in a hop, skip, and a jump. Just need to finish a couple things here," Langhorn responded in a sing-song, cheerful voice, not wanting to raise the alarm if Theo were still close enough to hear.

Vesyon took the cue and let himself out after Theo, a frown darkening his handsome features.

In the wake of their absence, a humming silence fell over the room, and Langhorn stared down at the motionless girl before him. A soft sigh escaped his mouth, his hand trembling for a mere moment as he brought the tips of his fingers to his lips. "I've missed you, child," Langhorn whispered, feeling the sharp, tingling prick of wetness burn at the edges of his eyes. He brushed it away in one quick swipe. It'd been a very long time since he'd last seen his granddaughter, and even though she wasn't awake now, it felt wonderful to have her home again.

With her complexion shining bright like the fresh pink of a newborn, he went about the process of collecting data. He slipped a thin, hollowed out steel needle into her arm and drew out several ounces of blood. He took each wound in turn: cleaning, suturing—if needed—covering in ointment or compress, and bandaging. He knew Maggie, would be in soon to do a thorough clean and dress of Camille, but Langhorn preferred to do a detailed first assessment of his patients. Most wouldn't receive such focused treatment even though, within the perimeters of White Wall, every patient was considered essential to Langhorn.

Camille, of course, was an exceptionally rare occurrence, and an intriguing puzzle—even for Langhorn. Despite his intense desire to stay until she woke, he knew discussing his suspicions of her recovery with Vesyon was the main priority.

"It's good to see you, dear child," he said as he brushed a hand over her rosy cheek. Something glinted in his eye line as he stepped closer: the silver chain of her medallion. Langhorn grasped it, examining the amulet with curiosity as a rivulet of chills snaked down his spine. It was as clean and shiny as the day she'd first received it, but it felt icy to the touch. He frowned, placing the necklace back against the pale, smooth skin along her collar bone.

Knowing there was a mountain of information from the past few weeks waiting for him upstairs with Vesyon, Langhorn made his way up through the maze of hallways toward the kitchen, shaking his head in pure astonishment.

***

Vesyon watched as Theo downed two bowls of honey-soaked oatmeal, two slices of buttered bread, and half an apple before saying a word. After years of eating the same meal every day at Romeo Village, he was certain Theo wouldn't be the only Rogue taking advantage of the open and fully stocked kitchens at White Wall.

Vesyon shook his head at the way Theo's foot tapped out an impatient beat on the floor; he was evidently anxious to return to Camille.

Langhorn emerged at the top of the stairs, his hair wild and flying about his face, a slight smile perking up the corner of his lips. He turned toward them without seeing, as though he knew where to find Vesyon without looking. His slippered feet floated silently across the expansive kitchen hall. He took a seat next to Theo and across from Vesyon, placing his hand on Theo's shoulder to lower himself gently to the bench. They exchanged quiet pleasantries as the cook served Langhorn his usual breakfast, but Vesyon could tell Theo didn't want to be sitting with them any longer as the small talk ended. The cobalt stare twitching from right to left, up and down, and all around the room gave him the look of a caged animal. He needed to see her, to feel at ease, an emotion Vesyon understood all too well.

"You look tired beyond belief, Theo. Go rest. I'll come to find you when she wakes," Vesyon said, knowing full well he'd find Theo right by her side. Theo nodded once, then quietly excused himself before trudging up the stairwell without another word.

After the stern look Langhorn had given Vesyon in the lab, he knew there were some difficult topics to discuss that Theo need not be present for.

Steam coiled up from Langhorn's green ceramic mug, filling the air with the earthy scent of his morning herbs and lifelong necessity. Sitting across from Vesyon, Langhorn took his time dipping the wide-mouthed spoon into his honeyed oatmeal, allowing the milk to swallow the metal disk into its belly before pulling a steaming spoonful up to his puckered lips. Vesyon understood Langhorn's love for his slow morning ritual and gave him time to settle into his breakfast before pouncing on the status of Camille.

"I promise you, she's fine—or will be once the virus is fully expelled from her body." Langhorn waved his hands over his head as though swatting at an annoying bug, but the motion only managed to fan his wild, grey hair around. "In a few days she will, most likely, be back to a semblance of her normal self, but it will take weeks for her to fully recover."

Something in his eyes made Vesyon uneasy. Despite Langhorn's sincerity, the elderly doctor was holding something back. "'Most likely?'" Vesyon repeated, not being one to dance around a topic.

"Well, to be honest, her status is quite odd. The medallion..." Langhorn began, his unruly eyebrows reaching toward one another as he frowned.

"What about it?" Vesyon snapped out, unable to control the pitch of panic in his voice.

Langhorn took another small bite of his oatmeal, his calm expression unreadable to Vesyon's sharp inquisition. "Your medallion sends off a sort of pulse, a vibration. You probably can't sense it—in the same way I no longer smell the herbal scent clinging to my skin—but it's there. I, however, can feel the live