Chapter 8
Beatryce had read and approved the proclamation her uncle had written. She was now in the midst of dinner with Dren in her new apartment. Dessert would be brought up soon, something she wasn’t really in the mood for, but she knew Dren would like it. Trolls had tremendous appetites.
Her mind was elsewhere, however. On Wyett and his attempt to bring a healer back as well as on Merylynn and the search for Vespera.
“Beatryce, is everything all right?”
She looked up from her plate to see him watching her. He was a handsome man. For that, she was grateful. “Yes, sorry. Just…thinking about my mother.”
Not quite a lie.
He nodded. “Of course. How insensitive of me. Do you want me to go?”
“No, please. Stay.” He was a kind man, and she needed to get to know him. They were going to be married, after all. His company was a good distraction, too. “What were you saying?”
“That you ought to have a bodyguard. Someone like Trog.”
She considered that. “Yes, I suppose I should.”
“Would you like me to take care of that for you?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She truly meant it. The thought of finding someone and what that might entail felt tedious and overwhelming.
He smiled, seemingly pleased to have something to do. “I already have a few candidates in mind.”
“Whomever you decide on is fine with me. I trust your judgment.”
A knock at her door stopped him from saying anything else.
Sylvia, one of her maids, appeared. “Should I get that, your highness?”
Bea sighed. “Well, it’s not my job, is it?”
“No, your highness.” Sylvia went to get the door.
Bea turned back to Dren. “Should we send for dessert? I think it’s some kind of cake. We could have it with cocoa, if you like.”
“That sounds wonderful.” His plate was as clean as if it had been set down empty before him.
Bea called for her other maid. “Lysette?”
The girl appeared. “Yes, your highness?”
“Ring for the kitchen so they know we’re ready for dessert.”
“Yes, your highness.” She went off to do that as Sylvia came back into the dining room.
“My lady, Councilor Wyett to see you.”
Beatryce almost gasped. She covered her reaction by dabbing at her mouth with her napkin, then set it aside and nodded at the maid. “Take him into my office. I’ll speak to him there.”
As Sylvia left, Bea stood. “I won’t be long. I’ll be back before dessert.”
Dren, who’d gotten to his feet as soon as she had, smiled. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
She went straight to her office. Wyett bowed as she came in. She closed the door. “What news do you have for me?”
“The healer is on her way up to your mother’s quarters. I’ve already sent for Dr. Lockhart. I explained things to her on the trip here. She understands the dagger needs to be removed as well as how precarious your mother’s condition is.”
“Her skills are good? Her magic strong?”
He nodded. “Yes. Unnta is old and slow, but her powers have not left her.”
“Thank you.” Beatryce exhaled. “What did it take to get her here?”
“Nothing. I only explained that the queen was injured and we had need of her.”
“Nothing?” Bea couldn’t imagine that. “She must want something.”
“She expressed no wants or needs to me.”
Bea still thought it odd. “I want you there with her. My mother. I want you there while they work on her. Please.”
“Of course, my lady. I will be at her side for as long as necessary.”
“Thank you.” Her heart was touched by his dedication. “You’re a good man, Councilor.”
“I try.” He bowed his head. “If you’ll excuse me, I will go to your mother now.”
“I want to be there, too.” She hoped Dren would understand. “How long before the healer arrives?”
“Not more than a few minutes, I should think.”
“I’ll be there. Oh, and send word to Ishmyel that he can now focus his search on a magician. Let him know a healer has been found.”
“I will do that now, your highness.”
As he left, she went back to Dren. “You’ll have to have dessert without me. I am needed in my mother’s chambers.”
He nodded, immediately understanding. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” She made herself take a breath. “But thank you. I will see you tomorrow.”
He realized he was being dismissed but showed no attitude. He got to his feet, gave her a short bow. “I hope all goes well with her.”
“Thank you.” He was so kind. So aware of his place in this relationship. “If I can make breakfast, I’ll send word.”
“That would be wonderful. Perhaps by then I will have a bodyguard for you.” He took her unbandaged hand, kissed her knuckles, then left.
“Lysette,” she called out.
The maid appeared.
“Get me out of this gown and into something simpler. I must attend my mother’s bedside.”
“Right away, my lady.”
Bea entered her mother’s apartment a few minutes later, dressed in a deep lavender marula wool gown, its only embellishment pearl buttons and braided piping at the hem and bodice. Nerves ran through her. This attempt to heal her mother had to go well.
Bea feared that the longer it took for some positive change to happen, the more likely it would be that no positive change could happen.
And if her mother did not survive, Beatryce would come undone. She would have no choice but to accept that she was queen and responsible for the kingdom. All while dealing with the bitter fact that she had caused her mother’s death.
She went through the foyer. Dr. Lockhart, Wyett, and the healer woman were talking. Ishmyel wasn’t there. Bea felt a small gratitude for that. She wasn’t thrilled with him right now. Seeing him would mean pretending otherwise.
The trio saw her. Dr. Lockhart and Wyett bowed. The old woman managed something close to a curtsey.
“Your highness,” Wyett said as he straightened. “This is Mistress Unnta Barlow.”
The old woman wore a faded dress the color of soot and a coarsely woven shawl of green wool. A thick belt around her ample waist held pouches and tools too numerous to count. Her frost-white hair was contained in two thick braids that wrapped her head like a crown.
Bea moved closer. “You are a powerful healer, I understand.”
Unnta peered at Bea through wire-framed spectacles, one eye silvery with a cataract. “I do my best with the skills I’ve got.” Her gaze drifted over Bea, coming to rest on Bea’s bandaged hand. “You’ve hurt yourself? Is it clean? Can’t have an infected wound near the woman when I work.”
“It’s clean,” Bea assured her, slightly affronted that the woman would speak to her that way. “The girl in there, Clary, she saw to it.”
Unnta grunted softly in response.
Dr. Lockhart shifted nervously. “Are you sure you want to be here, your highness? This will not be an easy thing to watch.”
“I’m sure. Are we ready? Can we begin?”
“We’re waiting on Vice-Minister Evenshade,” Wyett said.
Just then, the door opened and Grylan Evenshade rushed in. “Sorry, I’m here. Oh. Your highness.” He bowed. “I didn’t know you were attending.”
“Now you do.” She frowned at him. She really didn’t understand the point of him being here. He’d done very little to help so far. She addressed Dr. Lockhart. “Now can we begin?”
“Yes. Let me just be sure the room is prepared.” He went into Anyka’s bedroom.
Unnta continued to watch Bea. Being stared at wasn’t anything new. As a princess, she’d been gawked at her entire life. But Unnta’s gaze was unsettling.
Dr. Lockhart returned. “Everything is ready. We can begin. Your highness, if you and the Queen’s Councilor…
I mean, your mother’s councilor could stand back while Vice-Minister Evenshade, Mistress Barlow, and I work, that would be best. I am grateful that you both wish to attend, but I need you out of harm’s way as well. ”
“I understand.” He wanted them out of the way. That was fine, but Bea would be keeping an eye on him. If he did anything that caused her mother to worsen, he would pay.
They entered the bedroom. The windows were closed, curtains drawn. Candles lit the space, glowing from tall candelabras set in each corner. The air was dense and warm. Galwyn remained on his perch.
Unnta stopped when she saw the raven. “That creature must be removed.”
“Mistress Barlow,” Wyett began. “Galwyn rarely leaves her highness’s side. He is a source of comfort and strength for her.”
Unnta cut her eyes at Wyett. “He is also a source of mites and illness. Put him in the other room or risk infection.”
Wyett took a breath like he was about to argue.
“It’s all right, Wyett,” Bea said. “Galwyn will be fine in the sitting room until this is over.”
With a short nod, Wyett carried Galwyn on his perch out of the room. He returned to stand next to Bea, the two of them by the door.
Dr. Lockhart went around the bed to stand beside Clary.
Evenshade stayed on the side of the bed across from him.
Unnta moved closer, peering at Anyka. She eased the sheet off Anyka’s body and tucked it around her waist. Her clothing had been cut away, revealing the blade.
The wound was as red and angry as the one on Bea’s hand.
And it wept the same nearly black blood.
Pain filled Bea’s heart and her hand began to throb anew. Her mother was as white as the bleached linen bedclothes, her body frail and sickly looking. The bumps of her spine showed through the skin of her back.
She made no movements. Not even her breathing could be detected.
Bea couldn’t help but think she was already looking at a dead woman.