Stavanger Bay I know what they say, I know that they say that no one dies from love

She felt... very calm; whatever Bridget had given her was taking effect more fully now, it seemed, and Reverie was far too familiar with the effects of medicine to overlook even this subtle change. In a way it was a relief, but she did not like it. The healer had said nothing about this. But it made it easier to deal with the hurt she always felt when she spoke to Lestan, and so Reverie decided to only be grateful for it.
Still, she never knew how to act around him anymore. She was his wife in title only, it felt, and sometimes she wondered if she even wanted that anymore. There was love here, surely, but so much hurt too; so much resentment and guilt, seemingly in equal measure. He had brought those children to her only to threaten them, to threaten her with them — and she'd said such terrible things to him...
She said... she thinks it's a kind of rejection. Either an infection, or my body fighting itself, Reverie answered a little distractedly, gaze still lingering on Blossom. She was silent for a time, but eventually her eyes found Lestan again. She gave me something already. Turmeric, chamomile, ginger.
I thought maybe she could stay here, with us. If that's okay with you. I told her I'd have to ask you first, It was his home too, after all. But Reverie hardly wanted to linger on this; how could he feign interest in curing her when he'd cast aside the last opportunity they'd had? Against her wishes, no less. Her eyes found Blossom again. It was only for her that she searched for a cure now. Reverie didn't want to die, but she'd never really been afraid of it; she'd only ever feared being parted from Lestan. Now she would do as she'd planned when she'd first laid eyes on Blossom. She would raise her, and then she would rest.