Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
P erhaps realizing, finally, that this was not a conversation to have in public, Kason’s siblings ushered us out of the throne room and away from the watchful eyes of the court.
We followed them through a door at the rear of the room, led by, flanked by, and trailed by guards, which made me twitchy.
Who could live like this, surrounded on all sides by protectors in your own home?
Maybe I was na?ve, but I’d always thought a home, a true home, should be a sanctuary.
The palace felt like anything but.
The wing we were now in was even more opulent than the others.
The tapestries were more ornate and detailed—one in particular looked like a window overlooking an orchard, forever ensconced in summer, with blooms trembling on the trees’ branches.
I had to look twice to convince myself that, no, the leaves were not rustling in a gentle breeze.
I didn’t pause to study the art in more detail, however much I wanted to.
No doubt the guards were looking for any excuse to prod me along with the sharp ends of their swords.
Eventually, the siblings and I—along with the black-garbed individuals who had not been introduced—entered the salon of what I assumed was the queen’s royal suite.
It wasn’t empty. A woman sat slumped in one of the chairs, straightening slowly, reluctantly, as our entourage appeared.
She wore her graying, light-brown hair in a knot at the top of her head.
Well, it might have been positioned at the top once, but it now drooped toward the nape of her neck, just as exhausted as she seemed.
Lines were etched into the pale white skin of her forehead and beside her mouth, adding to her years, though her eyes were a warm, bright brown when I caught them looking at me.
For a mere second, I thought perhaps this was the queen—she was the right age, I was certain—then I quickly dismissed that notion.
If perfectly coifed and attired Telurin and Desha were anything to go by, Queen Daro would not deign to appear as anything less than perfect, even in her own quarters.
That supposition was further supported when the woman rose and bowed. “Your Highnesses,” she said, her voice rough. Clearing her throat, she continued, “Lord Kason. I’m glad my summons reached you.”
With an effort, I prevented a brow from rising in surprise. This woman had been the one to send the runner for Kason? Not his siblings? I didn’t know enough about his family to understand if that was truly odd, but it felt like it.
“Dr. Orella.” There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Telurin’s voice. My estimation of him dropped another few notches. “How is Mother?”
“Not well.”
Kason’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “You said she was resting.”
Desha’s hands fluttered as though she wanted to pet Kason’s arm to soothe him, but she didn’t. “She is. Just…” She bit her lip. “We’ve said she’s ‘resting’ because it’s not as alarming as revealing the truth.”
“She’s in a coma,” the doctor supplied wearily. “I’m sorry, Lord Kason. I’m not sure if she’ll recover.”
Kason staggered into me, a half-step sideways that said so much. The doctor might as well have hit him with a full-body blow. “What? The messenger said she was attacked, not that?—”
“She was. Poison.” Telurin’s face was drawn as he shared that news, his lips pressed thin. “In her morning tea a few days ago. We’ve yet to find out who, or how, so we’re keeping the details quiet for the time being. In the meantime, Dr. Orella has been trying various antidotes.”
“To no real avail,” the doctor admitted with a heavy breath. “Without knowing the true origin of the poison, it’s impossible to cure. And I’m no witch, simply a doctor.”
“Dr. Orella,” Kason started, “I mean you no disrespect, but where is Witch-Healer Kalla? Surely her magic would?—”
“Gone,” Telurin snapped. “We suspect she was the one behind the poisoning. I told Mother time and again that we couldn’t trust a witch, no matter how long she’d served on staff.”
Dr. Orella shook her head, her jaw set in a stubborn cant. “Kalla wouldn’t, Your Highness. She respected your mother a great deal and?—”
“Then where is she?” Telurin demanded. “Mighty convenient that Mother is poisoned and the witch runs off at the same time, don’t you think?”
Of course the witch was the one immediately blamed.
With an effort, I held my tongue. I might be brash enough to yell at a goddess, but I knew the value of staying silent when my words wouldn’t do anything to help.
It was clear Telurin, at least, was not a fan of magic, and standing up for a witch I didn’t know wasn’t going to help the situation, or earn me any goodwill.
Even if I doubted she had anything to do with the queen’s state.
For the gods’ sakes, she was a healer. Every witch-healer I knew would rather cut off their own fingers, one at a time and with a rusty knife, than harm anyone.
“Regardless,” Dr. Orella continued, barely looking at Telurin, “without a trusted healer to examine her, it’s difficult to know exactly what poison was used. I’ve done all the tests I could, but I can’t…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“Mokido can help,” Kason said.
I jerked, startled to hear my name—and in this context. “What?”
“You can do a survey spell, like you did for?—”
“No. Absolutely not.” Telurin took a threatening step forward.
“You think I don’t recognize this creature?
His face has been plastered all over Kardonan, on every street corner, for two years, while you attempted to track him down.
I don’t know what game you’re playing, brother, but I will not have a criminal do anything near my queen. ”
Kason raised a hand to prevent his brother from coming any closer. “Enough. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He kind of does,” I said softly. My face was on wanted posters all over the city—in multiple cities and towns, actually.
A horrible rendition of it anyway. Every poster I’d seen had pictured my ears as two feet long and drooping, when they clearly did not.
They weren’t even as long as a full sprite’s would be.
I resisted the urge to touch one of the pointed tips poking out of my hair to reassure myself they still stood strong and straight.
Kason cast a quelling look at me. “Telurin, if what we’re missing is a trusted witch to find out what poisoned Mother, we need to ask Mokido. He’s talented, and I trust him with my life.”
“With Mother’s life?” Desha asked, her voice calm and quiet.
“Yes,” Kason answered without hesitation.
Oh. That…well. I lifted a hand to my chest to rub at the warmth that had bloomed there.
Desha and Kason locked eyes for a moment, then she nodded. “I say yes.”
Telurin growled. “No. He will harm her, and we won’t even?—”
“I will not,” I stated, then looked up at Kason. “You have my word.”
“I know you won’t.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I trust you implicitly.”
No one had ever said those words to me.
I knew Imalfi trusted me, and the rest of her team, particularly when I joined them for a job. They wouldn’t have me working with them if they didn’t. But none of them had ever explicitly stated it. As though it were the easiest thing to say. To feel.
Dr. Orella breathed out a sigh of relief, and some of the weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. “Thank the gods. Good. If you’ll come with me?” She gestured for me to accompany her to the closed door that I assumed led to the queen’s bedroom.
“No! Not so fast.” Telurin leaped forward, barring us. “You’re not taking him in there by himself.”
“I’ll go with him.” Kason gently but firmly pushed Telurin out of the way. “Rest easy, brother. We’ll have answers soon.”
The queen’s bed chamber was dark and filled with the scent of healing incense.
I barely held back a sneeze. None of the witch-healers I knew used incense, but it was a popular tool with non-magical healers.
To lift the spirits, they said. To clog the sinuses, I said.
But seeing as Dr. Orella was all for me helping the queen, I wasn’t going to disparage her methods aloud.
Besides, I was no healer. Maybe the incense did help.
As expected, the chamber was just as opulent as the rest of the royal quarters, with exquisite tapestries draped on each of the stone walls, thick brocade curtains over the windows, and a huge, ornate four-poster bed sitting in the middle of the room.
Gauzy fabric cascaded from its canopy, obscuring the figure lying still within.
Even with the dim light and the sheer curtains, I could make out pale, ash-blond hair, a few shades lighter than Kason’s.
As I stepped closer, I saw that the lightness was due to the queen’s hair being more white than blond.
Her face, though slack in sleep, still held on to its fine lines across her forehead and around her mouth.
Her skin was pale and dull, showing no vitality or youth.
Funny, I’d known the queen was not young, but this was the first time I’d truly realized what that meant.
Kason sucked in a breath, and it occurred to me that he was probably as unused to seeing his mother like this as anyone. Vulnerable and, not to put too fine a point on it, old .
“Mother,” he gasped. He started toward her, then paused.
Dr. Orella gave him an encouraging nod. “Go ahead. I don’t know if she can hear you, but it can’t hurt to talk to her, to let her know you’re here.”
Kason needed no further prompting. He strode forward, leaving me at the foot of the bed, and grabbed his mother’s lax hand from the bedcovers.
He held it in both of his. “Mother, I’m here,” he said intensely, as though he could make her hear through force of his will.
“I’ve brought someone to help you. His name is Mokido.
Yes, that Mokido, the one I told you about. ”