"I have rule one firmly in mind," Prince Damien spoke first, "so get out of the robe and into the bath." 
He wasn't making it awkward so she did as he instructed. It should have been embarrassing, she was too weak to step over the bath and into it on her own, but the fatigue and sickness took priority over pride. Damien's handling remained respectful, and she was quickly immersed in a hot bath with a clean eucalyptus scent in the air. It became immediately apparent that he'd have to do the entire process of cleansing for her, she could barely sit upright. And to be waited on by an Imperial Crown Prince was a true luxury. Having her fiancé bathe her was neither arousing nor shameful, but it was undeniably an intimate feeling. She was all but drowsing as Prince Damien helped her out and towelled her dry, and after he bundled her into an Adaban robe she actually did fall asleep in his bed. 
It was not the simple sleep of the sick and recovering. She could feel the power of the Fairy Bound coming and going like waves trying to wash over and wear down the shore in a never-ending push and pull of the tide. But she couldn't wake. It wasn't like being a trapped observer in her skin, but more like a new sense was demanding attention and the rest of her body was endeavouring to adapt. While she endured metamorphosis, the others within Oberon's Palace dealt with the mess left behind. Titania arrived, accompanied by Oberon the Monolith, and Prince Damien was left to settle the matter of the negotiations alone. It was her duty as Ambassador and yet she was locked in slumber as the last lines between her and her Fairy self burned away, her human body having to rapidly accustom itself to the Magic of Cinderella's nature. 
When she awoke just after midnight, the darkness in the room was no longer a barrier to seeing. Prince Damien slept in bed next to her, a gentleman who kept his distance even now, and she could see lines of worry lingering on his face. In the night air around them, she could see the metaphysical traces of Fairy Magic drifting, Air and Darkness cocooning her in their secure embrace. She wasn't certain if the latest change was in reaction to something, or simply a natural progression with unfortunate timing. Was it like using the assassin's death to anoint the Mirror in Xutia, or was it a reaction to Méabh? The serpentine necklace of thorns was a result of her Blessing, and an extra sense let her know a murder of crows stood alert outside in vigil. At least her Xutian Blessing didn't interfere with the Fairy Magic of Adaba. She still felt burned out of Magic, some instinct promising that she didn't want to face Méabh any time soon, and yet she still felt far better than she had the last time she awoke. 
The slight movement she made was enough to rouse Prince Damien from his slumber. "Emberlee?" he mumbled her name in his drowsiness, trying to see if there was a threat. 
"I'm alright," the more she woke, the greater the aching senses of newly formed Fairy Magic grew. "I feel like tempered steel," she couldn't explain it better; she felt like metal that had been heated and folded, over and over until it was shaped and strengthened to perfection. Yes, she still felt weak like a newborn kitten, but it would pass. 
"You've been asleep for longer than you think," Prince Damien was properly awake now. He pressed a hand gently to her forehead, checking for fever, "you've been asleep for three days. Oberon confirmed it was something you had to endure after rejecting Méabh's power." 
Some boundaries were drawn in the sand, others in blood. Hers was etched with whatever power she had. 
"I survived," Her throat was dry, and her weakness made sense after three days of not eating. 
"I'm going to send for a light broth for you, do you think you can sit up unaided?" He seemed happy to play caretaker and she found it strangely endearing. 
She was careful in moving, "Thank you for taking over Envoy duties in my absence." 
"I'm a useful plus one; and unlike Titanic's prediction I didn't just stand and watch," he was righteously pleased.