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Luck. Madame’s scheming, more likely. For someone so brilliant, Einar can be so incredibly naïve sometimes.
I want to tell him the truth, or at least that he can’t trust the disgusting little man. But...the alchemist is in contact with Madame, and he will be on alert now for any sign that I have betrayed her.
If I tell Einar, and he acts on it — which he surely would — my sisters will be punished. Probably even killed.
If I don’t tell him, Sigrid might die. And not only her, but his entire castle.
I think back to what my Madame had told me. The alchemist doesn’t work for her as much as they make deals together. He could be genuinely working toward a cure in exchange for his opulent life here.
It’s a slim chance, but more of one than my sisters will have if Madame takes out her wrath on them.
There are no good choices here.
Einar sets me back on my saddle, but his touch is markedly gentler this time, and it breaks something inside of me. I am silent again for the rest of the journey.
When we arrive back to the castle, we leave the hestrinn for the stable hands to care for and head straight inside. I do my best to acknowledge Sarah Agnes as she takes Gideon’s reins, but I don’t have the energy to pretend right now.
I hold my breath, scrambling to keep up with Einar’s longer strides, though I understand his urgency. Guards push open the enormous doors, and a figure is hurrying down the stairs as fast as his uneven gait will allow.
It takes me a moment to place him as Leif, because he is not wearing his mask. He’s nothing like I expected, though I should’ve known by now to expect nothing at all.
Leif’s skin is green and yellow, like the deepest colors of a bruise. His eyes easily take up a third of his face, and large boils — no, warts — cover his cheeks and head.
When he opens his mouth to speak, it widens a hair too far, revealing a clear lack of teeth.
"Your Majesty," he croaks and begins to bow, but Einar waves it off as unnecessary.
"Please, how is she?" the king asks.
"She is stable, but she is not well.” Grief emanates from him in a cloud that soon consumes me as well.
"The alchemist has given me another solution. I should be able to try it any day now," the king tells him.
I look sharply to Einar.
"Why would you wait?" I have to believe that there is some hope in the solution the alchemist gave us, as much as it is difficult to attribute anything good to that man.
But surely, he wouldn’t go so far as to kill an entire castle full of people he’s known for generations...
Leif’s gaze travels between us, understanding and maybe even a trace of satisfaction in his features. Einar, for his part, studies me a moment before answering, and I wonder what it cost him to be open or honest about something he has fought so hard to conceal from me. From everyone.
"It's not that simple. We have to wait until the petal falls on its own," he explains. "Or we risk killing our only source for an antidote."
He says that like it should make sense to me, but it doesn't.
"And you risk killing Sigrid if you don't," I say quietly, in case there is a chance he has missed the obvious.
"Don't you think that I know that?" he growls.
“I hoped that you didn't know that rather than that you knew and just didn't care," I bite back.
There is no part of me that comprehends why he is willing to let her die when there's something he can do to save her.
"OfcourseI care, Zaina." He steps closer to me, staring down at me with a mixture of hurt and disbelief.
I almost feel guilty before I remember one of the few decent people I have ever met is upstairs painfully dying, and he is just going to sit by while it happens on the off chance that something bad will happen if he doesn't.
"You don't understand," he grits through his teeth. "I have a castle full of people depending on that, depending on me."
