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Finally, she pressed a light kiss to his hair. “We will get through this.”
His nod was more felt than seen, and he did not attempt more of a reply than that.
ChapterNine
Edmund tried to hide his shakiness as he strolled through the Woodlands, the resort tucked high into the Mongavarian side of the Whitehurst Mountains. At his side, Jalissa kept a firm grip on his elbow, steadying him if he wobbled. He had to use the silver-topped cane more for support than show.
At least he was standing. That was something. It had taken two vials of the elven healing medicine this time to banish the pain and pallor enough that he could pass as a functional person.
The humiliation of that train ride was something he would gladly scrub from his memory—and Jalissa’s too, for that matter. He’d spent most of it either napping on the bed or in the water closet.
The train had stopped for longer than usual at one of the towns. The conductor had gone down the hallway, assuring them that the stop was temporary. Edmund guessed that someone had wired ahead to have the cheap seats searched. But as he had hoped, no one bothered the first-class cars, and they had gone on their way.
Once they switched trains at the base of the mountains, their new compartments hadn’t included a separate water closet. Instead, the seat of one of the chairs lifted to reveal the commode while its back flipped down into a sink. As if he hadn’t been humiliated enough, he had then been unable to be sick in private.
At least Sarya had respectfully remained in the other compartment the whole time so only Jalissa had witnessed his embarrassment.
Now, he attempted to strut through the front lobby of the main lodge of the resort. It was built with massive logs, the décor the kind of rustic elegance that only upscale lodges like this achieved. Elk antlers, mounted deer heads, and bear skins decorated the walls while a massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, surrounded by a plush seating area.
Edmund halted in front of the desk and attempted to stare down his nose at the clerk behind it. Somehow, haughtiness was a lot harder to pull off after the debasement of that train ride. “I would like to secure lodging for myself, my wife, and her lady’s maid.”
“Do you have a reservation, sir?” The clerk reached for a ledger, fingers poised as if to flip to the correct page.
“I’m afraid not.” Edmund leaned against the desk as subtly as he could. The churning was back in his stomach. How long did he have before he succumbed to another vomiting fit?
The clerk frowned, then pulled out another ledger and opened it to the last page. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid this is a very busy time of year. All our luxury cabins and suites of rooms here in the lodge are full or reserved. But if you would be willing to take two adjoining rooms in one of the lower floors, I can assure you that our staff will work to accommodate any requests you might have and ensure your stay is up to your usual standards of comfort.”
If Edmund were truly some stuffy lord, he would probably argue. But right now, he didn’t have the energy for the charade. Perhaps the clerk would chalk it up to Edmund being a very easy-going lord. Or that he was a lord down on his luck who was secretly relieved for the excuse to take a cheaper room instead of trying to keep up appearances.
“Yes, that would be acceptable.” Edmund gave the clerk a false name, then scrawled a fake signature in the ledger, attempting to change his handwriting as much as possible while he was at it. The shakiness in his fingers helped with that.
Once done, the clerk handed over the keys, already turning away as if prepared to serve the next group in line.
Edmund lingered at the desk. “Would it be possible to arrange for a ride before supper?”
The clerk blinked up at him, and Edmund refused the urge to shift. Yes, Edmund probably looked like death warmed over, and a ride before supper was an unusual request. But surely the clerk wouldn’t question him. The elite were known for their quirks.
With a slight shake of his head, the clerk’s falsely genial smile returned. “Of course, sir. The stables are down the path to the left. The stablehands will be happy to accommodate you.”
Edmund nodded, then steered Jalissa away from the desk. He made a show of climbing the stairs and finding their rooms before they left the lodge once again.
Outside, gravel paths wound from the main lodge to the various separate cabins and facilities. The path to the far left branched off into a forested mountain path, and it was even marked with a helpful wooden sign labeled “Stables” with an arrow.
With each step, his legs felt more numb while the gnawing in his gut grew.
Only a few more minutes, then he could collapse. He just had to secure them horses, and then they could ride away into the mountains. They were so close.
While the morning paper hadn’t contained any news about the king’s illness, everyone had been gossiping about it by the time they changed trains in the foothills. How long would King Solan hang on? It was closing in on a full day since he was poisoned. While ricin usually killed within two or three days, King Solan had consumed quite a bit of the brandy. If Edmund’s symptoms were any indication, Crown Prince Jimson hadn’t scrimped on the poison. Not to mention, King Solan was in his seventies. He was fit and healthy, but his age would be a factor.
Either way, they needed to get these horses and disappear into the mountains as soon as possible. If they could be in Escarland by the time King Solan died, all the better.
The pain was growing sharper in his gut. Where were these stables? Why was this path so long?
Of course it was tucked far back into the trees. This was a luxury resort. They couldn’t risk the guests smelling the stables from their rooms.
Finally, the stables came into view. A small paddock branched out from it where several horses grazed on the short remnants of grass.
Edmund marched straight to the stables and entered, Jalissa still at his side.
