Chapter 21
CHAPTER
The next step in reaching the princess entailed another trip to the Grim Garden, with Gia standing watch while I gathered the necessary ingredients.
This time, I’d be concocting a potion that wasn’t deadly but whose manifestation was not subtle.
As soon as it was ready, I tested it on my skin, and within an hour the boils began to appear on my forearm.
They blistered and oozed, the pain akin to a sting or a burn, but I had only dabbed it on my skin.
If ingested, this same affliction of the flesh would spread all over the body.
It would appear much worse than it felt.
Root of Woodsworth was something most Fae were allergic to. It flowered in the spring and created a beautiful display for onlookers, but was not to be handled without gloves. Its pollen was also quite messy. Woodsworth flowers were only valuable to its keepers because they attracted hummingbirds.
I channeled my energy into healing my wounds, which stopped the spread and left no scars.
I felt guilty delivering this to someone I’d never even met.
The tonic I had made for the queen led to a painless slumber—before her untimely death.
This would result in a more drawn-out type of discomfort, but we had to set things in motion, regardless of my conscience.
Over that same time period, I tried to make my presence in and out of the kitchen feel natural by grabbing extra fruits and nuts at the behest of Lady Gianna.
I timed the dinner bells with precision, noting when the nobles’ meals were prepared, when leftovers arrived for the servants, and, most importantly, when what little remained was plated for prisoners.
One time El questioned me on it, having watched my movements a little too closely that day.
Her interrogation insinuated that I’d pocketed these items for myself and others.
When I acted appalled at her accusations, I asked her if she would like to go question my Lady directly as to why she had certain cravings during her bleeding.
That shut El up rather quickly, and I moved past her with a derisive scoff.
She later apologized for the intrusion and explained she just didn’t want to be associated with any thievery; the last servant caught sneaking food had their hand removed in punishment.
Since I’d never seen a handless servant in Nasallus, I presumed they were also relieved of their position immediately.
Ever since the death of the queen, the staff were more tense, focused on fulfilling their duties and keeping low profiles.
The other prisoners were served a disgusting slop of combined leftovers and three-day-old bread; you could barely call it food.
It was amusing how obvious it was which plate was intended for Princess Embry.
Her meal contained a fuller and fresher variety of sustenance.
I poured the liquid I’d created into a few bowls of the stew, as well as her drink.
I had taken extra time to prepare the ingredient to make it flavorless.
We couldn’t just inflict the sickness on Embry.
I had to make sure some of the other prisoners caught it too, so it would seem like a small plague had broken out.
I watched a few of the servants carry the trays away, which would eventually be handed off to Kingsguards who would then deliver them to the cells.
All we had to do was wait. From there, complaints by the prisoners covered in hideous lesions would alert their captors, causing panic.
Eventually, they would realize something was happening and summon a healer.
They would need one to make a determination about if this was harmless or more dire in nature, requiring a full immunization of the situation.
This typically meant eliminating the carriers, burning anything they’d touched, and sanitizing the space to protect everyone else in the castle from the spread.
A very similar approach to what happened after El’s original roommate grew ill.
The next part relied on Nori being convincing enough in conveying her experience working in plague settings, and therefore was comfortable handling such cases.
She would make note that she’d developed a routine of tonics that strengthened her immunity.
If that wasn’t enough to convince them, then she’d remind her mentors that their skills were much too valuable to waste on the health of lowly prisoners.
They would need to protect themselves, should a spread occur, and their skills be required for the royal family and other members of Silas’ inner circle.
Nori wasn’t the best liar amongst us, but her innocent appearance helped offset those weaknesses.
It was very difficult to look at someone as sweet and kind as she appeared and think that there might be something more manipulative beneath the surface of her kind eyes.
But I’d seen those eyes once, when they’d turned pitch black at the threat made against her parents.
I’d also seen the ease at which she played me for a fool, time and time again during our games.
That was the Nori we needed, and I knew she could do it. My next job was to sleep.
Sleep did not come easily to me in Nasallus.
Perhaps it was because I had a roommate that constantly kept me on my toes with her watchful eyes and obnoxious snoring.
Wondering about Varro and his safety may have also factored into the equation.
Too many times, my thoughts drifted to Trace and the heavy burden he carried on this mission.
The look on his face from the rooftop haunted me still.
Nori had accidentally slipped in and out of my dreams before, which meant she’d know how to find me in the dreamscape.
We determined I’d be the best candidate to await her messages.
If she was able to make it back to the safehouse, she could relay what she’d learned herself.
As backup, she was instructed to send her memories through dreams. That would allow me to know everything she’d learned, if she succeeded but was detained from reaching the safehouse.
This, perhaps, wasn’t the most foolproof part of the plan, given I was the one prone to a potentially deteriorating memory.
Two nights passed since we had sent the tainted food and drink into the prison cells.
Gia incessantly checked in with me, asking if I’d learned anything, even going so far as encouraging me to take naps in case Nori was looking for me in the dream plane.
Napping while on duty as a servant was an impossible ask.
When I awoke on the third morning, I wrapped my arms around my chest trying to quell the tight feeling in it.
A familiar feeling. Anxiety. Dread. There was a memory itching at the forefront of my mind from a dream.
A memory that felt foreign and not my own.
I closed my eyes under the covers trying to tell my body to accept it and not fight it.
Is this what it felt like when Nori meddled versus watched?
Is this how the Kingsguard felt when he awoke to memories of a slain queen?
The images were fuzzy, dark, and a feeling of cold flushed across my skin.
The viewpoint was mildly obscured and seemed to lack vision on the periphery.
I realized I was viewing the scene through Nori’s eyes.
It wasn’t like she was floating above herself and seeing the interaction as it played out, instead it was exactly how she’d seen it herself.
Before me was a sickly-slender female in a dirty, tattered dress, sitting on the stone floor of a cell.
Her attire, though well made, was raggedy and clung to every inch of her delicate frame.
Even in the dim light, the warm undertones of her infected flesh were a sign that she had much lighter skin than her father’s side.
Together, their pairing had created a stunning Royal Fae whose energy radiated outward from her, generating an aura of warmth despite her distressed state.
All her striking features complimented her beauty.
She had long, dark, curly hair cascading down her back, cocooning her shoulders in messy tendrils.
Her short-bridged nose sat atop full lips, and when she gazed up at Nori, her eyes were a brilliant amber, like honey-colored diamonds.
They sparkled despite the despair of her circumstances that threatened to kill the light within.
Princess Embry’s beauty captivated me as the memory continued to play.
Hushed whispers, exchanges of information flowed quickly back and forth between the two of them, and I did my best to commit all of it to memory.
An incredible amount of focus was needed to retain the information, for a stray thought could cause the dream to slip too far from the waking mind and disintegrate into the depths of the dreamscape.
There was no way to notify Nori that I’d received her message.
She was relying on me to carry this information forward and know what to do with it.
When we were alone, I relayed the visions to Gia to ensure my fragile memory was not the only place storing such crucial information.
She and I patiently played our parts as lady’s maid and mistress in the days that followed, biding our time until the next sabbath when we could more easily depart.
Shortly after the funeral, Silas resumed seeing Gia in the evenings.
His mourning had been short-lived. Was someone still referred to as a mistress if the wife was deceased? I pondered.