A slave of royal blood

"Still nothing?" Astrid asks, leaning on the study's door. It's almost midnight and Loras must be tired, but he has been stuck with his nose in those books since he came from the dinner with the prince.

"I just want to make sure you're not fine now and become ashes in the morning." He answers stretching his back. Astrid goes behind him and starts massaging his sore muscles.

"I don't think it works like that."

"The dragon's breath is not a normal fire. No one knows the true extent of its power. But I've seen it turn enemies into nothing." He shakes his head, not wanting to stop.

"Fine, then let me help you!"

"It's the old Valarian language, you don't know it." He says. They had this discussion earlier.

"Not with reading. With putting your thoughts in order. I don't know, maybe I can find a connection that you somehow missed. Do you have theories, something?"

"Not really. But it can't be because you were holding him. I checked that first."

"Maybe your love kept me alive." Astrid