"Is she coughing?" Mortals often get sick with things like flu and plagues. They don’t affect Evergreens in the same way.
"I don't think so. Why...why do you ask?" He asks, and I stifle a cold-blooded smile. He thinks I care about her.
"Because I have sixteen high-profile mortal guests staying in my palace, including two kings and two queens. If your sister has some kind of infectious sickness, I'll keep her locked in her room so she cannot wreak any more havoc on this week."
"I don't think it’s—“
"She'll be seen by my personal healer. If he thinks it's a plague then she'll stay in her room for a week."
A flash of worry crosses his golden eyes. "No, my lord. That's not necessary."
"Excuse me?"
He clears his throat, straightening his broad shoulders. "I meant...I meant thank you for the offer, but I wouldn't waste your healer's time. Stellan is with her."
"Stellan?"
"He's her—well, he's her deputy, but he was a healer once."
He talks even more bullshit than my son does when he’s drunk. "She'll be seen by my personal healer. Shut the door as you leave."
I spend the rest of my day with King Espan, discussing trade and inter-kingdom relations over a twenty-mile horse ride. When I finally finish work, I leave with Frian, my head guard. Every week, we climb for two hours, swim five miles, run for an hour and then fight for two. By the time I return home I can hardly walk, but it keeps my mind off the pain in my chest, even if it's fleeting.
"What did Talyn say?" I ask, drying my hair with a towel as Ascan stands, ever-present in the doorway.
"He's not returned. He passed on a message that she was sicker than Onyx let on."
"He's still there?" I turn to face him. "Send him here," I order, ignoring the worry in my chest.
I don't care about this mortal. Ican'tcare about this mortal. I just need to know she isn't infectious to my guests. I distract myself by finalising a trade agreement between my kingdom and another city in the west whilst I wait for my healer.
A shadow caresses the mahogany of my desk as Talyn's thin frame enters the doorway, bowing to me. "My lord?"
"Is she a risk to other mortals in the palace?"
Talyn is one of the most intelligent people left on this earth. Much like Lynna, what he doesn’t know about healing isn’t worth knowing. We'd trained in healing school as children together with Lynna and my late brother.
"I'm utterly baffled, my lord. I just don't know."
"You don't know?" I don’t think that I’ve ever heard those words leave his mouth.
"She is very sick. Onyx described her as 'under the weather', but she looks like she'll hardly last the night."
My pulse skips a beat. "What?"
"She looks very unwell, my lord. I have no idea what's causing it. It's similar to poisoning symptoms, but she hasn't eaten. She's not hot either, so it's not a fever."
Even away from me, she’s giving me grief. “I’ll keep her locked in the room for the week. If she passes it on and kills a king or queen in my palace, I'll never forgive her."
"Of course, my lord. I'll check on her overnight and, in the morning, with your permission?"
"Fine."
"And you, my lord? Your scars?" He asks, looking down. I realise I have my hand pressed firmly against one side of my chest. I drop it down quickly. "Fine."
"Bad today?"
"Bad this whole week," I sigh, refilling my glass with strong red wine and standing to leave to go to bed. Talyn says nothing, biting his tongue, no doubt. He and my closest staff think I drink too much, which I do. But if they'd been through what I had, they'd do it too.
