Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
Elowen paced her receiving room, her arms crossed over her stomach.
Neither the pacing nor the posture helped lessen the clenched sensation in her midriff.
She’d been kicked out of the infirmary about an hour before to allow a series of tests to be run on Theo.
Once they realized he’d lost consciousness, she’d sent a servant immediately to alert both her father and Theo’s guards.
She hadn’t anticipated that once her father arrived, he would insist on her vacating the room while a team of physicians made a full assessment of the visiting prince.
Whether it was to avoid distressing her or because he considered it improper for her to be in what had become Theo’s sleeping chamber, she wasn’t sure.
At least Prince Xavier had insisted on staying.
The physician had treated the royal family all Elowen’s life, and she had no reason not to trust either his medical judgment or his integrity.
But she still didn’t like the idea of Theo being prostrate and vulnerable without someone watching over him who took the threat seriously.
His brother wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt Theo further if he was present.
Could it really be possible that Theo had been poisoned?
The thought was horrible, and she tried to reassure herself that she was being foolish.
The physician hadn’t seemed to think it likely.
He’d clearly thought Theo had contracted a disease, likely due to a weakened body from the rigors of the tournament.
But he’d seemed absolutely fine to Elowen the evening before, up until their betrothal was sealed.
His deterioration after that point had been visible.
In fact, he hadn’t been himself in more ways than one. Were the things he’d said to her in the corridor, even the fact that he’d almost kissed her, merely the result of a feverish mind?
It was a depressing thought, but Elowen refused to let it crush her.
Maybe the onset of an illness had lowered his defenses, and maybe at full strength, he wouldn’t have chosen to let her hear and see those things.
But the vulnerability she’d seen wasn’t artificial.
Whether or not he wanted to show them, he did have emotions where she was concerned.
She just wished she understood why he seemed so afraid of them.
A frantic knock on the door made Elowen stumble in her pacing, and she surged forward, hoping desperately it was an update about Theo. But when she flung the door open, it was Sophia standing pale-faced between the guards flanking the doorway.
“Sophia!” She pulled her friend inside, shutting the door with a snap on the curious guards. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m not,” Sophia said tensely. “Elowen, what are we going to do? How are we going to get him out of this mess?”
It took Elowen far too long to comprehend Sophia’s words, and when she did, she felt a stab of guilt at how completely Theo’s illness had made her forget her friend’s predicament.
“Simeon,” she said, lowering herself onto a settee with a hand to her head. “Simeon is still locked in the dungeons.”
“Yes.” Sophia’s voice was impatient, and the way she was wringing her hands told Elowen that she was on the edge of falling apart. “And no one will help me. You’re the only one who’ll even believe me that it can’t have been him.” She paused anxiously. “You do believe it, don’t you Elowen?”
Elowen didn’t answer right away. She thought about Theo’s words of caution regarding Simeon, and the incident with the scarf, and the servant’s own declaration that he was bolder than she thought.
She’d seen something in his eyes when he looked at Bertrand, something that told her he was reaching his limit.
Then she thought about the houses crushed under the landslide, and the devastation of the town below the dam. Not to mention the sight of the tower collapsing right on top of her and Sophia.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, of course I do. There’s no way Simeon caused the disasters to get some kind of revenge.”
Relief crossed Sophia’s face, and she sank onto the settee next to Elowen.
“They won’t let me see him,” she whispered. “Father is so angry…he’s shut himself up in his study and will barely look at anyone. There’s no way he’ll intervene for me. And Bertrand…” She shook her head.
She had no need to finish the sentence. Elowen knew how unlikely Bertrand would be to help either his sister or his servant. Especially after what Sophia had said the night before, about him holding Sophia’s forbidden affection over her to get his way.
“Why would Simeon confess to something he didn’t do?” Elowen asked.
Sophia looked troubled, but gave no answer, leaving Elowen to her thoughts.
The only reason she could think of was to cover for someone, but it was extreme lengths to go to.
Maybe he would do it to protect Sophia, she reflected uncomfortably.
But Sophia was certainly not behind any of the disasters.
Bertrand flew to mind, but she knew her resentment toward the viscount was coloring her thoughts.
Bertrand had no great skill in magic to allow him to pull off these attacks.
He also had no incentive to harm his own kingdom and flood his own family’s lands.
And loyal as Simeon was to the family, she didn’t think he’d be willing to cover something this serious for Bertrand.
If anything, she was convinced Simeon was becoming less and less willing to pander to Bertrand at all.
“I want to help Simeon,” she told Sophia. “I really do. But I’m afraid I have another crisis on my hands as well.”
“What do you mean?” Sophia demanded.
“It’s Theo.”
The clenched feeling was back in Elowen’s chest, but before she could elaborate, there was another rap at the door. Elowen flew from her seat, her heart in her throat as she recognized an assistant from the infirmary.
“Do you have an update?” she asked breathlessly.
He nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I was asked to give you this.” He handed her a folded parchment and retreated, apparently not expecting her to send a response.
Elowen unfolded it quickly, scanning the short message in handwriting she’d never seen before.
Princess Elowen
Theo regained consciousness, but he’s still very feverish.
He comes and goes. The physician has completed an assessment and says it’s an infectious fever and will pass with rest and the right medicine, but I’m not satisfied.
I’m unwilling to leave Theo, so would be grateful if you would come to the infirmary to discuss. The king has left now.
X
Elowen crumpled the note in her hand, anxiety coursing through her.
She should probably disapprove of the Siqualian prince encouraging her to go behind her father’s back in returning to the infirmary, but she didn’t care about that.
If Xavier didn’t want to leave Theo’s side, he must be seriously afraid for his safety.
She turned to Sophia, her mouth dry with her reluctance to say out loud just how ill Theo was.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Theo is—”
“Go,” said Sophia, saving her from having to find the words. Determination hardened the noblewoman’s soft features. “This is my fight. I’ll find a way.”
Had there been time, Elowen would have asked what exactly she was going to find a way to do, but her mind was too full of Theo to delay.
She reached the infirmary in minutes, glad to see Theo’s own guard stationed at the doorway, his expression grim.
He was joined by another man in the same uniform, likely one of the guards Prince Xavier had brought with him.
At least someone was taking Theo’s situation seriously, much as she wished it had been her own people showing appropriate care.
She swept straight into the room where Theo had been laid, her eyes flying at once to his still form on the bed. Not entirely still, actually. He seemed to be in a light sleep, grunting from time to time, and turning his head unseeingly.
“Is he worse?” Elowen asked anxiously, stopping at Prince Xavier’s side.
The older Siqualian prince had taken a seat beside the bed. His straight jaw—a feature he shared with his brother—was clenched in a way that made him look very different from the dashing flirt who’d paid her extravagant compliments earlier.
“Yes, in my opinion, he is,” he said. “According to the physician, no. His fever is apparently no higher, and the physician assures me I’m merely suffering from the natural anxiety of a fond brother.
” He met Elowen’s gaze unflinchingly. “Apparently he doesn’t know that I’m not exactly famous for family loyalty or affection, and I’ve never yet been accused of courting anxiety. ”
Elowen sank into a chair on the far side of the bed, taking Theo’s over-warm hand in hers. His fingers twitched, their usual strength nowhere to be found.
“Yes,” she said frankly. “Your reputation for being heedless to the point that you’re unable to take anything seriously is pretty well established. If you’re worried, I have no doubt there’s good reason for it.”
Prince Xavier blinked, unsure how to take her blunt words. Then a slow smile spread over his face, banishing the shadows for a moment.
“I can see why my brother is so smitten with you. You’re very engaging, Your Highness. If circumstances were different, I might try to cut him out. Since you know my reputation so well, you may also have heard how much I favor golden-haired beauties such as yourself.”