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They had to flee. Tonight. Before King Solan showed symptoms of his poisoning.
Edmund raised his glass, his heart thumping harder. This brandy was poisoned. He knew it. Crown Prince Jimson knew it.
That left Edmund with only two choices. Either he could refuse the brandy and possibly tip his hand to his spying, or he could drink the brandy and gamble that he and Jalissa were really forming a heart bond.
He resisted the urge to touch the hidden pocket of his shirt where he kept the papers he’d stolen. This information was too crucial. He had to get it back to Escarland by the safest means possible. He couldn’t risk that Crown Prince Jimson would set a watch on them or, worse, arrest them and throw them in the dungeon tower as spies.
Edmund had no choice. Not really.
He brought the glass to his mouth and sipped. The warm brandy sloshed over his tongue, and he had to draw in a breath to control his gag reflex before he swallowed it down. The liquor burned in his throat, and maybe it was his imagination, but it churned in his stomach. It took all his acting skills to salute King Solan, his smile still in place. “This is excellent brandy. I can see why you are so proud of it.”
King Solan nodded, saluted with his glass, and drank again. “Brandy like this could be something my kingdom could trade with yours, if the restrictions were lifted.”
Edmund had no choice but to salute the king with his glass and drink another mouthful.
Crown Prince Jimson’s stance relaxed a fraction, and his gaze swung away from Edmund to focus once again on his father.
At least poisoning himself had been worth it. Even if the crown prince remained suspicious of Edmund, he was assured now that Edmund was going to die, poisoned and married to an elf with plant magic rather than healing magic. He didn’t know about Edmund’s hope for a heart bond or the healing magic Rheva had provided. Hopefully that assumption would gain them enough time to get out of this castle tonight.
* * *
Jalissa paced across the suite.What was taking Edmund so long? He had just gone to have a drink with the king. Perhaps discuss a little politics. How long could that take? It was not like either Escarland or Mongavaria was going to budge.
She had such a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She could not explain it, but it was there all the same and no amount of telling herself that everything was fine could banish it.
Sarya leaned against the wall, not commenting on Jalissa’s restlessness. James was guarding the outer door while Alvin was in the guards’ room, resting before another night of snooping.
Finally, the door opened, and Edmund stepped inside, followed by James. Edmund’s face had a white, almost scared look to it that she had never seen before, not even when Edmund had been shot by the spy-assassins.
She raced to him. “What happened? What is wrong?”
He held up his sleeve, its end damp. “Could you examine this with your magic? Don’t touch the damp spot.”
That bad feeling in her stomach worsened. She gripped his sleeve above the damp spot and sent her magic into it. She could sense the cotton of the fabric, the apple of what was probably an apple brandy based on the smell, and…and…
Something she was all too familiar with after her time in Kostaria.
Castor beans. Ricin.
She lifted her gaze to meet Edmund’s. “It is poisoned. Ricin.”
Edmund nodded, his expression going even more taut, as if she had simply confirmed what he had already feared. “I thought so.”
She drew in a deep breath and tried to force herself to calm. “Ricin is unlikely to be absorbed through skin contact. As long as you wash before eating anything, you will be fine. This is fine.”
“Jalissa, amirah.” Edmund’s tone was gentle, though he did not reach out to touch her. “I didn’t have a choice. I drank some of that brandy. I’ve been poisoned.”
Her stomach lurched as it dropped into her toes. For a moment, it was all she could do to breathe through the tightness squeezing her chest.
She could not lose Edmund. She just could not. They had only been married a little over two weeks. They were supposed to have more time to enjoy their happy ending. This could not be happening.
“I’m going to be fine, Jalissa.” Edmund’s voice remained far too steady for someone who was dying. “We have the medicine from Rheva. Hopefully it will be enough to reach an elf healer.”
Yes, yes, that was right. They had the medicine. Edmund would be fine. She was not going to lose him.
She drew in a deep breath and pulled herself together. This was not the time to panic. She was an elf princess. She could think about this logically.
She would not let Edmund die. That was all there was to it. She would cling to Edmund in the heart bond—because they simply had to have a heart bond—and not let him go. Just like Essie with Farrendel. And Farrendel with Essie.
