The lower decks! An entire half of the ship he’d not explored yet, recently occupied by an empire of space crabs! There’d been so many fires to put out after the incident with the Princess last week, he’d only been down there for to accompany Vasilia for a brief, entirely professional inspection. To walk those halls with Hera herself-!

The bed shifted beneath him. He thrust out a hand to steady himself, slowing it at the last minute before he slapped the bedspread noisily. The mound of quilts shifted restlessly, to and fro. Vasilia’s eyes screwed shut, wincing tighter under some invisible torment. Her breathing accelerated, and each exhalation was a pained prayer beyond any mortal tongue. 

Hush, dear Lady, hush. You are not alone this long night. Feel the whisper-softness of your Dolce against your cheek. Can you hear him? Can you hear him humming a lullaby, all for you? He’s holding you close. You will not slip loose into those dark dreams again. Breathe. Breathe easy. He is here. He is by your side. All is well, and all will be well. Sleep, and be at peace…

Only when many silent minutes had passed, did Dolce dare speak again. “I would love to walk the lower decks with you, Hera. But, Vasilia, she…” He smoothed away an errant hair from her now-still face. “...she dearly needs her rest. Could you keep her sleep peaceful, until we return?”