Bloom

Chapter Ten

Aleric shivered while he sweated and drifted in and out of jumbled dreams that made no sense. Father was by the window again to keep watch. Truly, he cared about his sons. He wasn’t a terrible Father. He'd stick around until he was sure his oldest was better.

He just couldn’t see that he’d helped Olivier attempt to murder him.

Aleric was almost too tired to care. Breathing was a struggle, and his heart pounded as though he’d run the length of the city wall.

He couldn’t believe he’d managed to convince Father to let Jaime come in and help him while alone. If he died, he wanted to be laid to rest near Mother and the twins out back. Just not now. Not yet. Mother wouldn’t want her remaining child to join her so soon.

He had a chance unless his body gave out.

When he woke up at some point and realized Father wasn’t by the window, he was still too hot. From his sitting room, Gautier’s voice came. Despite the heat swallowing his body, he wanted to hide further under the blankets. All of this was because of him , and Father was entirely blind.

But while it was Gautier’s fault, Aleric had screwed himself over at the age of eighteen and walked right into it. By keeping quiet, he’d later trapped himself in a corner. He was a fucking fool.

Through squinted eyes, he saw Father had opened the curtains a little. The flower-shaped light catchers sparkled in the sunlight. They were supposed to represent life blooming. A red one for Aleric’s birth and two green ones for the twins.

So much for that. The flowers were a memorial now. Mother was dead, the twins had withered despite constant care and a wetnurse, and a part of Aleric had wilted years ago.

The next time he heard voices, thankfully, Gautier’s wasn’t among them.

“Again, I’m sorry about what I said last night. It was nasty, and you just got here. You couldn’t have done anything. I’m mad because my son was hurt, and I-”

“It’s fine. I’d be angry and suspicious of everyone too in your place. He’s your son.”

Aleric kept his eyes closed while they continued speaking and wondered if he could continue to trust Jaime. His earlier actions meant a lot. Anyone can turn in the blink of an eye after being nice for a while.

Aleric had been stupid enough to stay after a couple of warning signs. He’d been stupid to take comfort and apologies from the one responsible too. He wouldn’t do that now, but a man can also turn without any signs. Had Jaime gotten medicine? Whatever Olivier had poisoned him with might wear off on its own with no more doses. It was clearly intended to kill slowly and was perfect to make it look as though the victim was weakening from a natural illness.

Someone touched his shoulder. “Aleric?”

He grunted. He just wanted to go back to sleep so he wouldn’t have to think, although his sleep couldn’t be considered restful. If someone could take the weight off of his chest, that would be great.

“I’ll be out in the sitting room. Jaime knows what to give you. Do you feel any better?” Aleric gave another, noncommittal grunt, and Father hesitated. “You’ll be fine, all right? Olivier knows what he’s doing.”

Father sounded like he was trying to convince himself. The door shut, and Jaime took his shoulder.

“I got fever medicine from the Latmer Apothecary. It’s sealed. I also got a jug of melon juice and a jar of honey. Your Father thinks I got the juice for sharing to be nice to you. You lost blood, and you need sugar.”

And hydration. It was amazing that Aleric’s mouth had grown dry, but he didn’t care to drink, and the hollowness in his gut didn’t matter either.

“Turn over.”

Every muscle in his body ached when he turned over. Even his skin hurt, and the position didn’t ease the tight, heaviness in his lungs. The small action took too much energy. Jaime touched the back of his wrist to Aleric’s forehead.

“You don’t feel any less warm. Has Olivier been in here?”

“I…don’t think so.” Aleric opened his eyes to see Jaime’s pinched expression. On the bedside table were the items he’d mentioned plus the shit Olivier thought Jaime would be giving him. That included a small bottle with a brand new concoction to make him sicker so he’d hopefully be gone before tomorrow.

“Maybe Olivier left all this in the sitting room, and your Father brought it in. Did your brother come in here?”

“No.” Or at least Aleric didn’t remember. He hadn’t heard Father leave the room before. “I don’t think so.”

“Mm.”

Jaime probably thought Zacharie was responsible overall. He showed him the medicine which had red wax all over the top. The L and A stamped in showed the apothecary had sealed it. It would ensure the cork stayed in and the contents remained fresh in case a buyer simply wanted to keep the medicine on hand.

The juice was also sealed with wax. Aleric didn’t know what the S meant. Either way, Jaime had done enough.

It wasn’t like Aleric had any other choice besides trusting him.

“It’s not poisoned. The honey came as is, so take it or leave it. I’d rather you have it in the juice for extra sugar. You need fluid too.”

“Fine.”

Jaime could have put a pillow over his face the night before and silently killed him with little trouble if he was a part of anything or simply sick of him. Aleric wouldn’t have been able to fight. He’d almost thought someone was trying to suffocate him when he’d awoken and realized breathing was hard.

“You could barely talk last night,” Jaime said in a low voice as he picked at the wax on the medicine bottle. “Your voice isn’t strong, but it’s not quite as weak as before.”

Because Olivier’s concoctions last night had also contained something to sedate him. A quiet victim is better, and if he wakes up anyway and says the physician is trying to kill him, everyone will think he’s mumbling nonsense he dreamed and imagined while in the grip of the fever.

Jaime finally got the wax off and pulled out the cork. “This has four doses. One now. One later, and the rest tomorrow. I’ll get you more if you need it.”

Aleric could barely get himself onto his elbow to drink two spoonfuls. Jaime hid the bottle and spoon in his pocket before he measured out the crap Olivier expected him to give to Aleric. Once it had been dumped down the privy, he opened the jug of pressed juice, poured a cup, and added honey.

He had to hold the cup so Aleric could drink. He was pretty sure he would have dropped it on his own. The sweetness was almost too much. At least it soothed his throat.

“I’d rather you eat a little too,” said Jaime.

“I can’t.” Aleric sank back into his pillow. The effort of chewing and swallowing anything seemed tremendous. He drew in a deep breath, struggling to find that satisfied sensation in his chest. It wasn’t there.

Jaime felt the pillow by his head. “I guess you getting up for a couple of minutes isn’t happening.”

Aleric would have glared at him if he had the energy. Fuck no, he couldn’t get up. Thank Elira, he hadn’t needed to piss. Then again, that wasn’t good since he was likely quite dehydrated.

“You’ve been sweating. The bedding is wet. The cover sheet they put under you isn't doing much now.”

“It’s fine.” Aleric wanted to go back to sleep, hope Jaime hadn’t secretly fucked him over, and not think too much. “I’ll go to the other side…in a few minutes.”

When he recovered from lifting himself enough to drink.

“You need another cover sheet. Come on. Roll over toward the middle. I’ll change it. You shouldn’t be on a damp sheet.”

Aleric suppressed a sigh and managed to do as asked since he had a point. Jaime removed the sheet and put down a new one. All of the bedding would need to be changed soon.

Jaime didn’t ask him to shift again. He simply planted a knee on the bed and lifted Aleric to move him.

Elira, he had no idea how annoying it was. It wasn’t just that Aleric felt like a pile of crap, it was that he was weak and beyond vulnerable. He wasn’t breaking his promise, but it was bad enough to be in such a position. He couldn’t defend himself against anyone, especially someone bigger than him. Jaime picking him up so easily ground in the knowledge.

If Gautier came in at that moment, and no one was around, he could take his sword and skewer Aleric right there. Why the lord’s son was dead in a puddle of blood wasn’t an incident that could be explained away with a few words. The point remained; he was vulnerable.

And even if Jaime was trustworthy at the moment, what about in a little while? Gautier might get to him soon. Who knew what he’d say? Aleric had said later like he’d tell Jaime the truth.

Actually doing it was unthinkable. He’d been alone for years, and he didn’t see how it could change. Why bother explaining anything?

He jerked, suddenly realizing nothing was covering him. Jaime draped a new blanket over him a second later.

“It’s clean. I won't be far. Go to sleep, all right?”

Gladly.

***

He woke up later to find he wasn’t quite as achy. The medicine had helped, and whatever was in his system to cause slow death might’ve been wearing off too. His breathing wasn’t so labored, although the weight wasn’t gone. He was too hot as well, his skin hurt, and he had no energy.

Overall, each symptom wasn’t quite as bad, and he said so when Father asked him.

“You haven’t changed?” Aleric was pretty sure Father had been wearing the same clothes last night.

“I’ve either been in here or the sitting room. I borrowed a shirt of yours.”

He didn’t want to get up, but Father said it was high time he pissed and changed. It wasn’t good that he hadn’t passed water in so long, and he made Aleric drink more juice and water before ignoring his protests.

“I’d rather let you stay in bed, and I know you feel like shit. It’s also not good to stay in the clothes you’ve been sweating in, and it'll make you sicker. A servant is going to change the bedding too.”

“Jaime already gave me a new blanket.”

“I know, but everything should be replaced, including your pillows and the cases.”

Father pulled him up to sit. That alone took what little energy Aleric had, and he didn’t see how he was supposed to walk.

“I got you.”

“You're going to hurt yourself more.”

“I'll live. It’s stairs, getting up, and sitting that hurt them the worst. Walking straight isn't like bending pressure.”

Father picked him up bridal style to carry him into the privy room. Aleric had a stool, and he had to sit and lean on the wall while Father hastily undressed him and gave him a quick clean-up with a sponge dipped in the basin he’d filled.

He was a good Father to get his son out of his sweaty clothes and clean him up so he’d be a little more comfortable.

Why couldn’t he believe his son and keep him safe from other things?

“Do you remember anything else about those men?” asked Father. Rustles and little noises from beyond the closed door must have been a servant changing the bedding.

“No. There were three with their faces covered. Grey clothes. Nothing stood out.”

“I’m just making sure,” Father said while patting Aleric’s face with the sponge. “Alex and the men searched. I've got a web of them out, and they found tracks farther out in the woods from where you came from, but the trail ends. Anyway, he came back. The only lead they have is three men who stayed at an inn in the village of Galway. All three wore grey and kept to themselves. The innkeeper said he didn’t like the look of them, and he never got to see their faces. That was the day before we went hunting.” He sighed and dunked the sponge in the basin. “Nobody saw them leave, and they haven't returned.”

Even if anyone had seen them, Gautier could have said anything. How nice of him to go out and help the men a little bit. Aleric bit back a scoff.

“I'm cold.”

“Let's get you into fresh sleep clothes.”

***

Aleric woke from another nap in the evening so Jaime could give him the actual medicine. The crap was dumped out again.

“I wouldn’t say you look better, but you don’t look as bad, and you're not sweating like a pig. Sit up. I want you to drink more juice.”

“I’d rather sleep. Father gave me more water after he changed me.”

“You need the fluid and sugar. Don’t argue.”

“You’re not my Father.”

“If the attitude is coming back, you must be a tiny bit better. How does your breathing feel?”

“It’s not good, but it’s not quite as hard.”

Jaime helped him to sit up against the headboard and gave him a cup filled with juice and honey. He still ached. He didn’t feel as deathly ill like that morning. Being in dry clothes with clean bedding felt better too.

Whatever was in his system was slowly wearing off. He could hold the cup without shaking and fearing he’d spill it all over himself. Jaime gave him a look like he wanted to demand answers and was holding back. Thank Elira. Aleric didn’t feel like fending off his questions.

“Father’s in the sitting room?”

“I think he went to his rooms. He probably wants to wash up. He said you don’t look quite as bad. Do you feel any better?”

“A bit. I want to go to sleep.”

“I’ll stay tonight. In here, I mean.”

“Why?” Aleric likely wouldn’t croak now unless the poison had lasting effects that weren’t immediately apparent.

“You’re alive,” said Jaime. “Some might find it unfortunate. Right?”

Aleric gave him a look.

“Do you remember what you said this morning?”

“Yes. It was all true.”

Jaime’s expression dropped. Had he been hoping Aleric had been stuck in a fever dream and imagining insane things? He’d surely figured out that Aleric had brought him there knowing he wasn’t entirely safe.

“I’ll still stay, just in case.” Jaime turned away. “I’ll have dinner and be back in later. I won’t be far away.”

Aleric watched him go. He’d done as asked. Why care more?

Father had to cajole him into eating a little custard before bed. Aleric wasn’t able to finish the bowl since it made his stomach feel off. He was pretty sure it wasn’t poisoned. His stomach simply couldn’t handle much even though the food was soft.

Olivier came in, and when Father asked if everything was all right, the physician huffed.

“She's going home. Probably to ignore all the dietary instructions I've been giving her.”

“Problems?” Aleric asked him in a droll tone.

“One of the courtiers-don’t stress yourself.” He waved a hand as Jaime slipped in with a nonchalant expression.

One of the women at court who wasn’t related always had terrible issues with her stomach, and Aleric figured she was the one going home. She was lucky in a way because the physician wouldn’t try to murder her.

“You must not be quite as bad if you’re sitting up.”

“Thankfully.”

“He’s definitely not better,” said Father. “At least he’s not as hot.”

“My breathing is a bit easier too.”

Olivier’s eyes widened a little. Aleric almost wanted to laugh as he imagined the man’s thoughts. Who drank poison and grew better? He’d been hoping for Aleric to die in the night while suffocating. Fucking bastard. Aleric wanted to bash the juice jug into Olivier’s head.

“Jaime’s been giving you your medicine?”

“Of course.”

“You drank it?”

“No, I snorted it up my nose.” Aleric rolled his eyes. “How else do you think I fucking took it?”

“Aleric, please,” said Father.

“He’s still not well, so that’s to be expected.” Olivier approached the bedside to eye the bottle and the jar. The level had gone down a little with Jaime tossing each dose down the privy.

“I’m sure I’ll be even better tomorrow.” Aleric gave him a placid smile. “I’d like to sleep if you don’t mind. Jaime’s to give me my medicine tomorrow morning too.”

“You’re not out of the woods yet, so an early night is good,” said Father.

Olivier looked over at him. “You’re staying?”

“I’d rather stay one more night.” Father shifted on his two armchairs. “For peace of mind.”

“You could get in the bed and be comfortable,” said Aleric. “I’m not contagious.”

“No. I’ll end up stealing the blankets and waking you up. I can take the floor if you want the armchairs, Jaime. You said you’d rather sleep in here, right?”

Jaime shook his head. “You can keep the chairs, and I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s fine for a night.” Someone knocked, and he glanced at Aleric just as Zacharie spoke.

“Come in,” called Father.

Zacharie shuffled in with a glower on his face.

“Have you got a stick up your ass?” snapped Aleric.

“I came to see you.”

“About time you remember me.” Aleric was tempted to say he must have been taking a short break from Gautier’s cock.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Olivier strode out with a stiff back like he too had a stick up his bum.

Zacharie let him pass and paused with his hand on the knob. “Um, see you.”

“Byyyye. I feel so loved. What a caring little brother you are. Father’s hardly left the room, but you can barely grant me three seconds from your busy schedule.”

Zacharie scowled and left.

Jaime waited a few seconds to break the uncomfortable silence. “That’s it?”

“He’s not-he doesn’t like seeing sick people.” Father didn’t look pleased with his younger spawn. “He never has.”

“Ah.”

“Pfft.” Fuck Zacharie. Aleric got comfortable on his side. “Goodnight.”