Chapter 18
Amaris
Amaris was attempting to keep count of the days with small tally marks she’d dug into one of the legs of the worktable, but with getting knocked out and forgetting here and there, it was hard to tell. Nine or ten days? Maybe more?
Pricilla didn’t seem to understand personal space when she visited Amaris almost every day to go over the various herbs and where to go about finding things around the tower.
Her company, however, was better than Theodoric’s.
Amaris refused to utter a word to him, and he retaliated with beastly grunts the few times they’d run into each other.
Sephardi was the one who picked her up from her room to grab breakfast each morning before settling her into the mystique tower.
Amaris had first thought Sephardi was going to be like the rest of them, but she had an interesting nature about her as she smirked and sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace.
She wasn’t one for conversation, though, as she shuffled through various pieces of parchment.
An echo of heeled boots rang through the stairwell, and Amaris and Sephardi both turned to find Adelaide with a large wicker basket resting on her hip. “More herbs for you.”
Adelaide gave her a funny expression, likely because Amaris was staring at her as if she were a figment of her imagination. She hadn’t seen her since that first time, and since she wasn’t a soldier, Amaris had lost faith she’d help her escape.
Sephardi offered Adelaide a quick nod as she plopped the basket on the worktable and whistled, taking in the room. “You cleaned.”
“There isn’t much else for me to do.”
“Besides argue with my brother.”
Amaris didn’t bother entertaining her comment as she began sifting through the basket of new herbs. She hadn’t recognized a single one in all her cleaning, but with Pricilla’s help, maybe she would find a good place for them.
“Theo isn’t much for talking these days,” Adelaide continued.
Amaris groaned. “Even if your brother wanted to talk to me, I’d have nothing to say to that ungrateful jackass.”
Adelaide smirked, but a stifled laugh sounded from Sephardi before she cleared her throat and continued her work.
Turning to avoid prying ears, Adelaide leaned closer. “It isn’t that he’s ungrateful,” she whispered.
“What are you saying?”
“I know my brother better than anyone, and even I’ve felt he’s pushed me away. I don’t think he wanted you to save him.”
Amaris placed a jar of herbs on a shelf, her mouth going dry. “You think he wanted to die?”
Adelaide nodded toward Sephardi and stepped closer, whispering in Amaris’s ear. “Theo’s been gone for three years, fighting in the Trade War. My family received word during his first year that he went missing behind enemy lines for two seasons. He came back different.”
“What happened to him?” Amaris shouldn’t have cared to learn what he went through. It didn’t change how he’d treated her or how he’d implied Derek didn’t want to be with her anymore.
“I don’t know.”
Amaris eyed Sephardi but continued to flip through her pages. “Was he captured or lost?”
“Again, I don’t know.” Adelaide’s voice was soft, and Amaris strained to hear her. Adelaide seemed to be well-versed in the art of whispering. “My guess is captured, but even Esaias won’t say.”
“Esaias was there too?”
How many more of them had been in the war? Had Alan or Sephardi been there too? Maybe that was why Alan was such a brute.
“Not when Theodoric and his squad went missing, but they were all under the same company.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Adelaide hardly knew Amaris but didn’t seem to care that she was throwing her brother’s deepest secrets at her.
“He’ll never tell you why he snaps at you or says something rude, but I thought maybe if you knew, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
A life preserver. That was what she’d thrown out, but Amaris wasn’t sure if it was for Theodoric or her.
“Theo is caring. Try appealing to that side of him.”
Amaris scoffed, “Believe me, I tried that the first day I met him.”
“If he would only set his duty aside and get Bennet out of his ear, he would see what I do,” she said.
“And what do you see?” Amaris filled her arms with more jars. Even if she didn’t know their properties, she could at least alphabetize them.
“You didn’t kill Lord Freville,” she whispered.
Amaris almost dropped the jars, leaning into the counter to catch them.
“The duke believes what he does is for the good of the province. I, however, believe he only cares about building his reputation. I suggest, if you want to walk out of here, you play their games.”
“I tried playing, but it didn’t work,” Amaris muttered, hanging her head. “Bennet wants to kill me, the duke thinks I’m lying, and soldiers like Alan think they can treat me however they like.”
Adelaide tapped her chin. “Alan carries many faces—”
“He threatened to cut out my tongue,” Amaris snapped.
Adelaide met her with silence, obviously not surprised.
“I noticed how close you are. Are you two—”
“Together?” She smirked. “No, it’s not like that at all. Alan may be protective, but we don’t fancy each other. Besides, I have no plans for marriage.”
Amaris lifted her head. “You don’t?”
“Why would I?” she growled low. “Shackled to a single person for the rest of my life isn’t exactly what I envision for my future.”
A twinge sharpened in Amaris’s chest. Was that how some people envisioned marriage? She thumbed the inside of her engagement ring. They may have had their disagreements, but Amaris wanted to be with Derek forever, or at least however long they could get in their lifetimes.
“Is that why you ran away?” Adelaide asked.
Amaris held her breath. It was a blow each time one of them mentioned it.
“No.” Amaris nibbled the edge of her lip.
“What’s his name?”
Amaris contemplated giving up her weakness, but if she was stuck here, then they likely couldn’t find him and use him against her. “Derek.”
“What an odd name.”
“What do you want out of life if marriage isn’t on the table?” Amaris brushed back her hair and leaned against the worktable. She missed the caress of his hands across her arms and the kiss of his lips on her neck.
“To fight.” Adelaide didn’t hesitate with Sephardi in the room as she drew her shoulders back. “I want to serve in the King’s Guard one day.”
“How can you?”
“That’s the problem,” she breathed. “I don’t know yet.”
A cough echoed in the tower and Amaris shot her gaze to the tower door.
Theodoric braced a hand on the frame, his cheeks flushed and sweat beading his brows. “What are you doing here?” His eyes settled on Adelaide.
“Leaving,” Adelaide threw at him without turning his way. She offered Amaris a smirk before she ran past her brother down the steps.
Amaris folded her arms, raising an inquisitive eye. “What do you want?”
“I have a patient who needs your help.”
Finally. Before her feet even moved, her hands were already fussing with her hair to braid it out of her face. “Lead the way.”
“I must warn you, it’s scrying fever.”
Sephardi faltered with her shuffling papers and sighed.
“What’s scrying fever?” Amaris asked.
“I thought you were a mystique?” he snipped.
“I am”—Amaris bit her lip—“but it doesn’t mean I’ve heard of everything. What is it?”
“It’s a deadly fever that gives someone a haunting rash,” Sephardi said, her voice losing all its warmth.
“A fever and a rash?” Amaris raised a brow. “Doesn’t sound that deadly to me.”
“Hardly anyone has survived it. I know of one person,” Theodoric said.
Amaris gulped, her fingers slowing as they neared the end of her braid. “How contagious is it?”
“It killed over a hundred soldiers during the war.”
Amaris didn’t have masks, but she sure as hell wasn’t catching some deadly disease and dying before she got a chance to escape.
She scanned the room and grabbed a few pieces of linen.
Amaris began down the stairs, not bothering to wait for him.
Jumping the last few steps, she took off at a quick pace through the library.
She wrapped the linen around her neck and let it drape loosely over her chest.
Amaris threw Theodoric the other piece. “Tie it around your nose and mouth when we’re near them. If it’s as deadly as you say it is, we don’t need anyone else contracting it.”
She pushed through the library doors and turned, but he grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her the other way. “This way,” he said, taking the lead.
“Who’s the patient?”
“My cousin, Esaias,” he answered, his voice cracking.
Amaris stumbled at the break in his tough demeanor, but she didn’t stop as she chased after him.
He halted outside his cousin’s door with his hand wrapped around the handle.
“What are you waiting for?” Amaris blurted out, needing to see the scrying fever for herself.
“You must prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. It can be shocking,” he whispered.
“Oh, please.” She waved him off. “I’ve seen worse.”
She likely had, but she was curious if it was about to be some new disease or if it was something as simple as the chickenpox.
She tugged the cloth over her mouth and nose as Theodoric pushed open the door.
Even through the thick piece of linen, the all-too-familiar smell of sickness hit her.
The one where someone had been lying in bed with a nonstop fever and a hint of puke.
She didn’t feel the need to wrinkle her nose, though, or gag at the familiar stench.
A woman with rich umber skin sat by his side. Her dark hair ran down her back in tight curls and fell over her shoulder as she leaned and muttered into Esaias’s ear.
“What do you want now, Onika?” he groaned.
Onika narrowed her honey-colored eyes at him, but their parallel to the sweet nectar stopped there with her glower. She pulled the damp compress from his forehead, which earned her a begrudging grunt.
“He’s been awake since you left,” Onika said, standing and striding through the room. She stopped and leaned closer to whisper before she departed. “But I think it’s spreading.”