The others rose as well.
“My thanks, Pernard, for coming. Your wisdom is appreciated,” Verice said. “Narthing, get some rest. Ersal, continue to draft bland messages of meaningless diplomatic phrases to our ‘ally’ Valltera.” There were chuckles as Ersal nodded. “I’ll be with Warna if more news arrives. Gentlemen.” He nodded to his advisors, and slipped from the room and headed to her bedchamber.
The keep was quieter now. The work was still going on, and Verice could see that Ersal and others had moved back into their old chambers and offices. But the mood was dampened by the growing awareness that Warna was ill...seriously ill.
Still the work continued on all the rooms and chambers. Except the Great Hall, as he had ordered.
He opened the door slowly, hoping not to disturb Warna if she was sleeping. And she was, curled around a warming stone, buried under the blankets.
The room was lined with cots and pallets; the healers were keeping a constant vigil. He noticed Warna’s lidded basket against the one wall. Someone had made sure her things had been brought to the room.
Not that she was in any shape to enjoy them.
He went to the other side of the bed, and sat so that he could see her face. She looked so tired and listless. Her hair had lost its luster, and someone had pulled it back in a loose braid. He doubted she’d had the strength.
Her eyes fluttered open, and after a moment she focused on him and tried to give him a smile. “Verice,” she whispered.
“Lady,” he said. “How are you?”
“Thirsty,” she grimaced. “But when I drink, it starts again. I don’t want that,” she closed her eyes.
“I should let you—” Verice started to excuse himself.
“No,” she complained. “All I do is rest. Tell me the news.”
“Barathiel has pulled his forces back,” Verice said. “I think he was trying to take Tassinic so fast that no one would have a chance to respond before he had it under his control. But now that word has leaked out, I think he’s decided to wait and see what happens.” Verice hesitated. “I don’t think he knew what Blesenthala was up to,” he continued. “I don’t think Barathiel would have countenanced it, if he’d have known.”
Warna frowned, thinking it through. “But why would she do it?” she asked. “Does she hate humans that much?” She took a shaky breath. “I doubt she was really trying to kill me. More of a cruel prank, don’t you think?”
“Blesenthala and I have a bit of a history,” Verice said softly.
Warna gave him as much of a glare as she could. “One of these days, you are going to sit down and tell me every day of every year of your life,” she whispered.
“What makes you think I remember with that level of detail?” Verice quirked his mouth, and leaned closer.
Warna reached out and captured a lock of his hair between her fingers. “Every detail,” she whispered.
“My parents offered marriage for myself and Blesenthala,” Verice said. “Many, many years ago. But the offer was refused, and she was given in marriage to Barathiel, next in line for the throne.”
“She wanted you,” Warna said. “She still wants you.” She tugged on his hair. “Charrin said something about a taint in your blood. Was that why—”
“Yes,” Verice said softly. “Five generations back, the eldest male of my line married a human woman.”
“Five generations?” Warna rasped, licking her lips. “Five elven generations? That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s yet another reason I left,” Verice said.
“Thick as posts, those people are,” Warna closed her eyes and sighed.
“M’lord?” Dominic approached. “A word?’
Dominic drew him out into the hallway and down a ways from the door. “It would be best if Lady Warna does not hear us, m’lord.”
“Dominic?” Verice felt the fear leap in his throat.
“M’lord,” Dominic looked him in the eye and there was none of his normal haughtiness in his expression. “Lady Warna is critically ill, and I fear for her life.”
“Tell me,” Verice said.
