The Duke of Folkvar had spent a fortune.
Between the under the table dealings for his daughters- who still weren't dealt with - He'd also spent a fortune in funding the search for the traitor's sister. He knew that if he gathered her, he would be hailed a hero. Not only would he gain favor to the crown, he'd also go down in history books. If there was something he wanted, it was immortality, and only those that existed on paper, in records and portraits. Only they were truly immortal. It didn't drain his coffers but it made a dent and he knew that, ever so slightly, there would be suffering for it. Folkvar would suffer for what it was trying to achieve.
Not unlike flying too close to sun with wings made of wax. Hopefully though, it would be overcast so the sun's light wouldn't burn too hot.
When the Duke had gotten note that their prey had been captured, he'd gathered the best of his army, a few of his personal mordecai and set his heir and the few men to bring her home. The journey, Kairius found, sucked. While he hadn't been particularly pampered and wasn't ignorant to hard work, sleeping outside was still an issue for him and he could barely do it. So, tired, angry, irritated. Kairius was hardly the sight of a grand heir to the Duchy of Folkvar and when he met up with the thugs his uncle hired he gave them a nod.
The threat of the soldiers kept them from drawing blades. The thread of being killed immediately probably helped more.
The woman's location was a secret and Kairius frowned when he discovered where it was.
He actually whined and rolled his eyes. What a mess. What was his uncle thinking. Why couldn't he just send people here to collect the woman and bring her back. Kairius recalled the conversation, added a burly voice to the recollection of his uncles memory. 'I need to know that at least one of you has my best interests in mind, because my best interests are also yours, Kairius'. It was for the good of Folkvar. It would bring a good light and finally, when he was made Duke of the Duchy it would be with only positive thoughts.
Or something.
Kairius was tired and he'd been damp for a few days.
Mostly he just wanted to go home to his bed with or without this damnable woman.
It took half a day to get to the cabin in the woods. Well, once he saw it, the shack. Guards were posted everywhere and he pondered, for a few moments, if this woman was dangerous enough to be needing guards then just why did his uncle send him here. Whatever. He didn't care. Just... Collect her and go. Of course he heard the tales of her deathly touch and, of course, he was foolhardy and went into the shack anyway.
Well.
The sight of the sick woman was a little underwhelming and Kairius poked his head out of the door and gave the guards a 'really?' look before he went into the shack, taking steps. This was the woman that would help end the war? Bring glory to Folkvar? This slip of a woman? A glance at his hand, gloved from the cold and he cupped his hands around his mouth to warm them slightly before he knelt down beside bed and pressed his hand to her face hesitantly. When he didn't die instantly he decided that, maybe, the stories weren't true... Or at least it was skin to skin. Who knew. He wasn't going to risk it. Either way, even through his glove he could feel her burning with fever.
Great.
Just great.
Kairius sighed, it wouldn't do well to have the woman die when so much money had been spent to find her. Kairius left the shack after a moment, returning with water and a few blankets. His hand smoothed over her cheek, thumb brushing her temple. He'd tossed blankets over her and sighed, water ready. "Hey," He said, voice husky from disuse, "Wake up and tell me the name of your cat or horse or something," He huffed, "I need to make sure you aren't about to die before we bother traveling with you."