“What?”
That was unacceptable. Who did he think he was to question what kind of medicine I was taking?
“You should at least ask what’s in the mixture.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know what whitebane medicine is supposed to look like. What you’re taking, isn’t it,” he said and shifted his eyes to the palace.
I followed his gaze. Further down the lane, Sally’s figure was almost to the stone gates.
That was absolutely ridiculous. Why did he think he could just blurt out his recommendations?
I didn't even know him. I knew Sally and Lady Corliss would never want to hurt me. If anything, it was ineveryone’s interests to get me suitable for the future union everyone was so excited about.
“What are you saying? That someone’s trying to kill me?” I asked.
“All I’m saying is that you must be at least a little curious.”
“About what?”
“What would happen if you skip it, just once,” he supposed.
Shivers ran down my spine, and I stared at him as if I had never seen him before. The warm umber of his eyes appeared almost liquid from where I was sitting.
What he was saying was impossible. No one within the palace would want to hurt me. I chewed on my lip, immediately remembering the attack, and how Kent saved me from the assassin. Not willing to think about it any longer, I stood up.
“I want to go back.”
The man beside me offered his arm, and I frowned, hating that I was dependent on his help. Kent made a gesture to the sentries who watched us in the distance, and slowly walked me toward the palace.
Not a word was spoken between us as we walked. My head started to spin, and I had to stop to catch my breath. Kent watched me with a strange expression in his eyes and his jaw clenched. He looked almost angry.
With the help from my somber companion, I climbed multiple sets of stairs, and at last, I was in my room. Sally wasnowhere to be seen and Kent would not cross the threshold. I only took one step toward my bed when my knees buckled. Before I was even close to the ground, my guard was there and lifting me up, all in one swift motion. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and prayed to all the gods not to be sick on him. Carefully, he laid me down on the bed. The sickness deep inside my guts continued to twist and churn.
“I need a bucket,” I mumbled, covering my mouth.
My guard grabbed the basin from the side table and carefully helped me to sit up. Softly, he removed the strands of my hair off my face and massaged my shoulders while I vomited all the contents of my stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” I managed to say, waiting for another wave of nausea.
“Don’t apologize.”
“It’s disgusting.”
I clenched the edges of the tin vessel. My hands were shaking, a cold sweat appeared on my forehead.
“What’s going on here?” Sally’s voice sounded from the doorway.
I could not look at her. But it only took her a moment to realize what had happened.
“Thank you, Mr. Kent, I will take it from here,” she said, confidently moving into the room.
I could sense that my guard was reluctant to leave, but after a long moment, he moved away from me, and another set of hands wrapped around my shoulders.
A soft, tranquil light fell through the silk curtains as I watched the shadows dance over the wooden panels on the floor. I had been bound to my bed for days, violently sick. I was ready to be over it.
For the third time, I tried to sit up and successfully grabbed one of the novels Sally brought me from the library. The cover displayed a couple embracing each other with a passion that the story itself did not portray. The two main characters spent most of their time arguing, or bedding each other, without any pauses for plot. It was also lacking any attention to the side characters. After the initial introduction, and a couple of insignificant events, I got bored and tossed it aside. I went through the stack, and sighed. They were all written by the same author.
