“What aren’t you telling me?”
“There are also memory-altering herbs present. I have no idea how much they will affect her—how much she will have forgotten.”
Hells.
“And there’s nothing you can do to counteractthat?” My voice rises in pitch.
The alchemist shoves his spectacles up his nose. “I’m afraid not. Now, if you can wait a few minutes, I’ll put together what I know I can safely give her.”
“Of course.”
“Is there anything else about the princess that I should be aware of?” Hennig raises a brow, and I wonder what he suspects, but I need to protect her, and at this point, I don’t trust anyone in the palace.
“Not that I can think of.”
The look he gives me holds so much judgment, I almost cave, but I stand my ground and choose to pace back and forth instead as he puts together his concoction.
“Okay, give her half now and half tomorrow morning.”
I nod, carefully tucking the vial into my pocket.
“If she doesn’t wake tomorrow, come back and I’ll make more. Whatever they gave her was potent.”
My heart aches painfully as I hurry back to my wing. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she’s forgotten me again. We were so close . . . I thought we were finally getting our chance after all these years, and now? This is my fault. She was mine to protect, and I failed her.
Chapter Forty-Two
RAELYN
Golden eyes and frightful roars haunt me—chills snake up and down my spine. I’m running. Running away from or toward something? The air is filled with smoke, and my vision is blurred. I’m drowning in the dark, and I can’t tell which way is up. I’ve been here before. I hate it here.
With a gasp, I awake and sit bolt upright in bed.Where in the hells am I?Nothing looks familiar.
“Raelyn!” A familiar voice breaks through the fog.
“Sera?” I rasp. My throat is on fire, and the strange taste in my mouth makes me want to vomit.
“I’m here, Raelyn. What do you need?”
“Water,” I croak.
A large glass is thrust into my hand, and I look up at Sera’s relieved face. She looks the same . . . but her clothing is all wrong. I gulp down the water greedily and hand her back the empty glass.
“Thank you,” I manage to get out, grateful my voice sounds more normal to my ears. “What in the hells happened? Where am I?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sera asks, squeezing her hands in her skirts.
“Sera, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry, that’s the last thing I meant to do.”
“What’s going on?”
“You were drugged . . . and attacked.” She winces, as if hating to be the bearer of such bad news.
My eyes widen, and fear clamps down like a vise in my chest; it’s heavy, and I’m panicking, my breathing quickening as I hyperventilate.
“Why can’t I remember . . . Why can’t I remember?”
