Chapter 17 #2
She uncorked the vial and lifted it automatically but then stopped. Her brows knit together, her heart beating a panicked rhythm. Nutty and syrupy.
It was the exact same scent as the day before. The same scent as the liquid he had pretended was an antidote, before revealing that her coffee hadn’t been poisoned at all, but the vial had been.
This asshole was trying to poison her.
Again.
The absolute nerve of him.
Her stomach turned, and she slowly, deliberately, capped and lowered the vial. She wanted to smash it against the ground in protest, but while she could be exceptionally hot-headed and impulsive, there was a little whisper of reason inside her now.
Don’t do that, Hymn warned, as if sensing her urge, just in case you’re wrong and it’s the only dose he has with him.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. “It’s poison,” she said, with enough false bravado to power the Kingsguard. “Same as yesterday.”
Hymn had gone perfectly still, daring to peek out beneath the collar of her undershirt.
Chasin exhaled in a single, controlled breath, and then he was taking the vial from her. Glass scraped across wood again. He stepped calmly away from her, and she listened to the squeak of his breakfast trolley and the faint clink of ceramic, before liquid poured in a steady, controlled stream.
He seemed to be deliberately making noise so that she knew exactly what he was doing.
The smell bloomed immediately.
Coffee. Sun-blessed, light-touched, heavenly coffee.
Her heart was beating so fast she probably didn’t need the extra kick of energy, and she certainly should have been traumatised from the day before, but it put no dent in her obsession.
She wanted coffee.
She wanted it now.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she flinched, covering her midsection with her arm. She had always eaten like a little bird—that’s what Kaito used to say. But lately, she was growing strangely ravenous.
She didn’t hear Chasin returning to her, so she jumped when he took her hand, raising it and pressing a cup into her reaching fingers. It wasn’t the same cup as the day before, but a ceramic one with a raised enamel design.
He signed something against her chest: the same gesture as before.
Drink. Swallow. Wench. Could mean anything.
She hesitated for only a moment more, her index finger idly tracing the shape of an orchid in the enamel design on the cup, before she brought it close to her nose, breathing it in.
She couldn’t smell anything except the coffee—molasses, dark wood, and warmth.
She was so hungry. Desperate for this little luxury, and any others she could get her hands on.
It wasn’t a sensation she was used to, this …
this greediness, but she didn’t have the space or time to examine it right now.
She could only file it away under one of the many ways she had changed since boarding the Kingsweep.
“Is the antidote in the coffee?” she asked.
Chasin didn’t answer.
He said you would need an antidote every day, Hymn mused. Yesterday, you drank the coffee before ingesting the poison. He might have dosed you prematurely.
So forward-thinking, she said sarcastically.
“How do I tell if this is poisoned?” she asked, staring unseeingly down into the cup.
Again, Chasin didn’t answer.
He was such a shit banner captain. She actually preferred Cairn.
Any experience with poisons? she asked Hymn hopefully.
There’s no scent, no film on top other than the naturally occurring oil in the coffee. Hymn made a thoughtful sound. I think it’s fine to drink, but I’m no expert.
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t wait any longer. Her need for satiety had taken over, with the addictive, rich scent curling just below her nostrils. She raised the cup to her lips and drank deeply, groaning as she swallowed, the liquid heating her belly. The tightness in her chest eased.
Three more of these and I might be able to see again, she told Hymn.
At what cost? he returned.
She ignored that.
Chasin walked to the door and opened it. Taking that as her cue to leave, she fumbled to set her cup down on his desk, and then she quickly skipped out of the room before he could change his mind.
He said nothing as she passed and closed the door tightly behind her.
During breakfast, she ate through the tray Kaito had prepared for her in record time, and when she was done, her stomach still felt empty.
She was so hungry.
She stood to fill her tray again, but Kaito caught her arm. “I wouldn’t,” he said, sounding concerned. “I saw Cairn training you yesterday.”
Right. He had a point there. If she ate any more, she would just throw it all up again as soon as Cairn sent his cane into her stomach. She sank back down, accepting the cup of tea Kaito pushed at her instead.
They were quiet over breakfast, none of them knowing how to broach the awkward topic of Eiko’s and Rion’s possible impending engagements.
It seemed that Ren was about to bring it up at one point—Eiko heard his fortifying draw of breath—but Ky quickly spoke up first, steering them to talk about training instead.
Ky knew her well. He knew that she needed time.
She couldn’t force reality to sink into her mind; she needed to wait for it to seep slowly, until she could feel the dread of it in her bones, late at night, alone in her room.
Then she could think about it clearly. Until then, the best she could do was to simply hop from happening to happening, doing her best to keep her head above water and not let the brutal world of the Godsguard knock her down.
She squeezed Ky’s hand under the table, thanking him silently, and he twisted their fingers together, clutching her as he finished his breakfast. The gesture spoke volumes. He wasn’t going to push her to talk, but he didn’t like this just as much as Ren.
After breakfast, Cairn took her into the arena and beat her half to death until she had been knocked down so many times that she could barely drag herself back to her wobbly feet.
And then he sent her to the library to study with a dinner tray and a medical kit, complete with bandages and a sterilisation ointment.
Rion, Ky, Kaito, and Ren hunted her down after they finished their own training and dinner, helping her to practise the hand gestures of Chasin’s language until her eyes began to bleed.
It was a very glamorous life she was living, and she repeated it again the very next day.
Wake up sore and bruised.
Go to the commander’s office (like walking to the gallows).
Reassure Commander of his ownership (with fingers mentally crossed behind back).
Drink coffee antidote (delightful).
Eat as much food as possible as fast as possible.
Get beaten up by old man with cane.
More food.
Study the language of hand signals until eyes bleed.
Sleep, rinse, repeat.
It wasn’t until the fifth day of this charming routine that something changed.
“Are we really not going to talk about it?” Ren finally snapped—he had been eerily quiet all through breakfast.
“They’ll talk about it when they’re ready,” Ky muttered.
“Is there some magical way out of the situation we’re unaware of?” Rion asked, sounding a little too calm, which meant that she was annoyed. “Are you going to go to the King of All and tell him no yourself, are you, Ren?”
“I … don’t think that will be necessary,” Ky breathed out, the shock making his words wobble slightly. “It looks like the king is already two steps ahead of you.”
“What?” Eiko followed the shift in the room as they all jumped to their feet—the sudden hush, the scrape of the benches at her table. She quickly stood with them.
“It’s …” Ky seemed to be at a loss for words.
A ripple of whispers spread through the hall, and Eiko frowned at the sound of footsteps outside. Some of them shuffled in an excited sort of way, but some were the now-familiar, calm, booted footsteps of soldiers.
“Kingsguard,” someone muttered from a nearby table. “What in the dark is the Kingsguard doing here?”
Then Eiko caught it: a sound so achingly familiar. It was a woman’s laugh, so like a laugh she remembered from Stonesigh. It sounded like home. It rang through the hall, sharp with shock and cracked with relief.
Was that …?
Rion’s fingers tightened around Eiko’s wrist so hard it hurt.
“This one here. This is a creeping thistle.” Suddenly, Eiko could feel the dirt in the garden outside Rion’s house again.
Mei’s familiar laugh rang out at some mischief Rion’s little sister was causing before she refocused, forcing Eiko to trace the shape of the thistles.
“They’re an insidious weed, Eiko. They might look pretty, but they’re secretly strangling all the other roots in the garden. We must rip them out root and stem.”
“Rion?” Eiko whispered, but her friend didn’t answer.
The footsteps stopped somewhere near the entrance of the hall. Someone spoke, and it sounded like one of the castle attendants, all polished vowels and practised volume, and then another attendant was at their table.
“Miss Rion. Your family has arrived.”
Rion’s breath hitched like she had been punched, and she didn’t utter a word. Eiko was not smart enough to piece together whatever horror was happening, but it was clear something terrible was at play.
The attendant said, “They have been invited to Brightfort to celebrate the announcement of your courtship. The queen has arranged a tea for you to reacquaint yourselves before training begins for the day. Please join them in the courtyard, and I will escort you to the queen—I hope you understand, but they are not allowed inside.”
Eiko felt the blood drain from her face. What happened to a month? she internally screamed at Hymn. The queen said we had a whole month before it would be announced!
They must have changed their minds. Hymn sounded despairing. They must have sensed one or both of you might try to find a way out of the engagement.