Bound to the Shadow Prince

Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

I make my medicine last four days. I tap the glass tube and squeeze every droplet out, adding a bit of water to each dose to make it last. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m low on options. I don’t eat much, either. I just lie in bed and gnaw on a turnip when I’m hungry, sip a bit of water, and then go back to lying down again. The less I move about, the less vital my medicine is…or so I hope.

Nurse would have a fit if she could see me now.

Thinking about Nurse makes me lonely. I think about Nurse, and Riza, and all of the others that took care of me on a daily basis and I took for granted. I want to hug all of them and apologize for being spoiled. I want to shower them with affection and gifts so they know how much they mean to me. I want to go home . I want to go home so badly it’s a physical ache in my chest.

On the fifth day, I wake up and immediately lose the contents of my stomach. Sweating, dizzy, I know it’s because I’ve been skimping on my medicine. I’m destroying myself slowly, and I need to do something about it.

Today, I decide, sitting up. I’m going to conquer that sled today. I’m going to make it into firewood, and I’m going to make myself a huge batch of medicine, enough to last at least a week, and then I’m going to figure something out. I’m not going to let this beat me.

I get to my feet, blackness creeping before my eyes. I blink it away and hold onto the bed frame until the shakiness in my limbs goes away. I chew on a bit of dried meat and take a bite of turnip as I tighten the laces of my dress and slip on my shoes. Once I’m ready, I carefully pick up my glowing orb and carry it downstairs with me, my knife tucked into the bodice of my dress, safely between my breasts. I’ve never let it out of my sight, not since that day that Nemeth stole it from me.

When I get to the bottom floor, though, I have to blink a few times to make certain my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. I walk to the spot where I left the sled…but there’s nothing there.

It’s gone.

I shine my light and walk the large room, just in case I’m dizzier than I thought and I’ve missed something. But no, there’s no sled at all. It’s gone, the only proof that it was ever here the recent scratch marks on the stone floor.

Nemeth stole it. It has to be him.

He’s taken the last of my firewood, and with that, he’s killed me. I take a deep breath, fighting back nausea. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m overreacting. “Knife,” I say, panting as I lean against the wall. My limbs feel weak and sluggish, and it’s just going to get worse. “Was it Nemeth? Did he take it?”

The magic blade pulses once. Yes .

Dragon shite. Now I have to go kill a Fellian.