Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ALINA
Things had changed after the attack, and no matter where I went, Kent was trailing me. When I wanted to get some fresh air, a whole group of sentries gathered within my line of sight, careful not to crowd.
I inhaled, and looked past the lines of trees, to the lacy, milky white clouds sailing across the pure shade of ultramarine above.
The sun was shining through the perfectly shaped leaves with a distinct golden hue.
So much beauty was in front of me, and yet I could not fully enjoy it.
I was trapped in the confinement of the never-ending haze that separated me from the world.
None of what I saw touched my soul. All of my senses were obstructed by the sickness that took everything away from me.
I was vaguely aware that the perfect colors all around me had practically lost their value, that I lacked any joy in experiencing it first hand.
I could barely remember how it used to feel to marvel at the wonders of nature.
I shifted on the bench and wrapped my shoulders in the thin shawl.
Sally did not want to admit it, but she was too traumatized to join me in the garden. When I took my daily exercise, there was only Kent by my side.
I shifted my gaze back to my companion. He was freshly shaven, and his hair looked slightly wavy, and a little damp.
I would not want to admit it to anyone, but there was something about him that made it impossible to keep my eyes away.
He was considerably taller than most of the men in the palace.
He was also built as a warrior, with a lean, well-proportioned body.
More than once I caught the looks from the court women who often blatantly stared at him.
When I thought of how I was no better, the corners of my mouth lifted, and I looked away.
Lady Corliss insisted that I spend more time with my possible suitors, but I was too weak most days to even get out of bed.
Still, that was not a major concern to anyone.
As long as I could stand through the wedding ceremony, even supported by two maids, that would be good enough for the council, I was sure of it.
“Milady.” Sally hurried down the path, her long, light grey dress brushed against the gravel.
For a moment, I could only stare at the way she held her back artificially straight while rushing toward me with a familiar glass in her hand.
I looked down, noticing my fingers had tightened around the edge of the stone bench. I loathed the way the mixture made me feel, too drowsy, too weak. The mere thought of ingesting it twisted my insides and made me want to retch.
“Here’s your medicine.” She breathed heavily.
“Thank you,” I said, but only stared at the glass, not willing to touch it.
Unintentionally, I caught the sharp expression in Kent’s eyes as he scrutinized the glass with a frown on his face.
“Milady, please. You know how important it is to take your whitebane on time. It’s better to avoid any episodes.” Sally brought the glass closer and I took it, biting my lip.
My fingers clenched the surface of the glass, gazing at the thick, cloudy liquid.
What did I know about medicine? Maybe this was the only reason I was able to function at all? What if I became completely bedridden without it?
I brought the glass to my lips and took a small tentative sip. The bitterness burned my throat and I fought the wave of nausea that came with the awful taste of whitebane. Sally stayed with me until I finished every drop, and without delay, walked back to the palace.
“Why are you taking that?” Kent said and I turned my head meeting his eyes.
It was the first time he had ever referred to me, and out of all the things he could have said, he chose to say something that was already on my mind.
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you taking medicine?” he calmly repeated.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” I said a little harsher than I intended.
It was rude of him, and completely inappropriate. Why did he think that he could act with such familiarity toward me?
“Do you not care about your own health?” Kent continued.
“What?”
That was unacceptable. Who did he think he was to question what kind of medicine I was taking?
“You should at least ask what’s in the mixture.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know what whitebane medicine is supposed to look like. What you’re taking, isn’t it,” he said and shifted his eyes to the palace.
I followed his gaze. Further down the lane, Sally’s figure was almost to the stone gates.
That was absolutely ridiculous. Why did he think he could just blurt out his recommendations?
I didn't even know him. I knew Sally and Lady Corliss would never want to hurt me. If anything, it was in everyone’s interests to get me suitable for the future union everyone was so excited about.
“What are you saying? That someone’s trying to kill me?” I asked.
“All I’m saying is that you must be at least a little curious.”
“About what?”
“What would happen if you skip it, just once,” he supposed.
Shivers ran down my spine, and I stared at him as if I had never seen him before. The warm umber of his eyes appeared almost liquid from where I was sitting.
What he was saying was impossible. No one within the palace would want to hurt me. I chewed on my lip, immediately remembering the attack, and how Kent saved me from the assassin. Not willing to think about it any longer, I stood up.
“I want to go back.”
The man beside me offered his arm, and I frowned, hating that I was dependent on his help. Kent made a gesture to the sentries who watched us in the distance, and slowly walked me toward the palace.
Not a word was spoken between us as we walked. My head started to spin, and I had to stop to catch my breath. Kent watched me with a strange expression in his eyes and his jaw clenched. He looked almost angry.
With the help from my somber companion, I climbed multiple sets of stairs, and at last, I was in my room.
Sally was nowhere to be seen and Kent would not cross the threshold.
I only took one step toward my bed when my knees buckled.
Before I was even close to the ground, my guard was there and lifting me up, all in one swift motion.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and prayed to all the gods not to be sick on him.
Carefully, he laid me down on the bed. The sickness deep inside my guts continued to twist and churn.
“I need a bucket,” I mumbled, covering my mouth.
My guard grabbed the basin from the side table and carefully helped me to sit up. Softly, he removed the strands of my hair off my face and massaged my shoulders while I vomited all the contents of my stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” I managed to say, waiting for another wave of nausea.
“Don’t apologize.”
“It’s disgusting.”
I clenched the edges of the tin vessel. My hands were shaking, a cold sweat appeared on my forehead.
“What’s going on here?” Sally’s voice sounded from the doorway.
I could not look at her. But it only took her a moment to realize what had happened.
“Thank you, Mr. Kent, I will take it from here,” she said, confidently moving into the room.
I could sense that my guard was reluctant to leave, but after a long moment, he moved away from me, and another set of hands wrapped around my shoulders.
A soft, tranquil light fell through the silk curtains as I watched the shadows dance over the wooden panels on the floor. I had been bound to my bed for days, violently sick. I was ready to be over it.
For the third time, I tried to sit up and successfully grabbed one of the novels Sally brought me from the library.
The cover displayed a couple embracing each other with a passion that the story itself did not portray.
The two main characters spent most of their time arguing, or bedding each other, without any pauses for plot.
It was also lacking any attention to the side characters.
After the initial introduction, and a couple of insignificant events, I got bored and tossed it aside.
I went through the stack, and sighed. They were all written by the same author.
Another half an hour passed as I watched a moth beating its wings on the other side of the window before I summoned enough energy to ring the bell.
To my surprise, the door opened almost instantly. I had only managed to sit up, and lifted the covers to my chin when Kent walked into the room.
“Milady?” he asked, but his eyes immediately roamed my face, as if he was searching for something.
“I’m sorry, I was calling for Sally,” I said, looking down at my hands gripping the quilt.
“Would you like me to get her?”
“No. I don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble. How do you feel?” Kent took a careful step inside of the room.
His gaze took in my bed and the scattered books surrounding me.
“I’m feeling better. Thank you for helping me the other day.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
“What are you reading?” he asked, and my face turned bright red when I remembered the frisky couples on the covers.
“Sally brought me some books, but I can’t get into them.” I sighed, fighting my surprising embarrassment.
“I see.”
His voice was low and gentle, as if he wanted to soothe my nerves. I liked the sound of it, its softness when he talked was comforting to me for some reason. It was so different from his direct stare, and the sharp lines of his face. The contrast was alluring, and somehow intimate.
“I’m sorry for alarming you.”
“Would you like me to bring you more books?”
“I . . . I’ll be fine. Thank you.” I lied.
He stood for a long moment just watching me, then as if remembering something, a frown formed between his eyebrows. With a last parting look, he walked out of the room.
I burrowed deeper under my covers, not prepared to deal with all the emotions our brief encounter stirred within me.
When Sally walked into my room an hour later, a sigh of relief, or maybe disappointment escaped my lips.