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Rolling away, I tucked myself into a ball, and slipped once more into the saltwater pool of my sweat on the sheets.Chapter 24ValeriaWhen next I opened my eyes, warm, lazy afternoon light filled my bedroom. The sound of geese migrating made me look outside, and I saw their V-shaped formation pass over the bare trees of the forest.
Somehow, I could feel that quite a bit of time had passed; the hard frosts of winter seemed to have lightened. So I had been in bed long enough for winter to give way ever-so-slightly to the brief, but glorious Praquean spring.
I drew a breath, deep, feeling as though it was the first time in what felt like ages my lungs had been so full. My mother’s old nurse, Vanke, startled herself awake with a snort as she sat in a wooden chair beside my bed.
“Good heavens,” she said, beaming at me as she roused herself from her nap. “There you are, my dear. And thank God for that. You scared us all half to death!”
I tried to sit up in bed, but found I was so weak that all I could do was lift my head. My brain felt swollen and was throbbing, my throat was dry, and I felt desperate for a long soak in the bath.
“What was wrong with me?”
“Some dreadful attempt on your life. Petre admitted to it, some sort of backup plan if you wouldn’t go through with the wedding. There was a man planted among the guests with strict instructions to prick you with a poison laced pin if anything went wrong,” she said, huffing to herself. “What a piece of work that man is. If he couldn’t have you, he would make sure no one would. Especially his brother.”
Guests? Wedding? What… All at once, it came rushing back to me. The stabbing. My father. My heart plummeted in my chest; he had been so unwell, I felt certain there was no way that he had survived.
“How is my dad?”
Much to my absolute surprise, Vanke perked up happily.
“Quite well! I won’t let him leave his bed, but he’s very much on the mend.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.
But in my relief, all manner of other things came rushing into my mind. Especially the feverish, terrible dreams. And Vasile, all those endless thoughts and dreams of Vasile that were so real that I could have sworn he was actually there.
Ridiculous. I groaned and battled with myself to find the strength to sit up. However long I’d been laying there, it was much too long.
Vanke tried to help me, but I shook my head.
“I can manage,” I said, and wriggled upward to sitting. I was surprised to see that my arms looked thinner than I expected. I felt much weaker in my own skin.
Vanke helped me drink a glass of water, and then sat by me patiently as I ate a few slices of an apple. Even though it was hardly a feast, it made me feel so much better that I could hardly believe it. I greedily gulped down another glass of water, then wiped my dripping chin with the back of my arm.
“I need to see my dad.”
She tossed her head back in frustration. “You Valentines! Stubborn as mules! One second you’re on death’s doorstep and then you’re rushing to try to hop out of bed. So I’ll tell you what I told your father: you’re staying in bed until Dr. Lucian says you’re alright to get up and move around.”
It didn’t make a damn bit of difference to me if Dr. Lucian or Lucifer himself tried to stop me; I was going to see my father, one way or another.
I reached out for Vanke’s plump hand, which looked as soft and warm as a cinnamon bun. She automatically reached out to help me, and I thrust my legs out from the covers. Before she could stop me, we were on the move, with her huffing and puffing, pretending to be oh-so-very annoyed. But clearly just as pleased as I was that I was strong enough to be up and about.
At my father’s door, I knocked once and let myself inside.
He lay in bed with a tray on his lap. He was so surprised to see me that he nearly flung his soup onto the quilt.
“My girl!” he exclaimed, with a sheen of joyful tears springing into his eyes.
“Don’t get yourself all excited!” I told him, wagging my finger as I hobbled across the room, and joined him on his bed.
“You scared the stuffing out of me,” he said, shaking his head like it was all my fault.
“Look who’s talking,” I said, and helped myself to a ripe pear that was sitting on his tray.
He watched me eat my pear with pride, and once I had finished and set the core on the tray, he reached out for my hand.
