Chapter 38 Alfrie
Chapter thirty-eight
Alfrie
Iflip through one of the ancient texts open on my desk, but I’m not really reading the words.
I haven’t been able to focus on much of anything since my training session with Zara.
Well, nothing except the way her eyes glisten like spun gold when she cries.
Or the fact that I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms until her tears and sadness vanish forever.
I hate it. I hate that I want her. And that I can’t have her.
I hate that I can’t hate her.
I hate that I’m so foolishly in love with her.
I drop my head onto the open pages of the book. What’s the matter with me? This is new territory. And a forbidden one at that. I told her I was great at pretending. I need to make myself pretend that I’m not completely enamored by her.
The pretending gets easier with time.
“How did it go with Zara today?”
I lift my head. Leer is sitting across from me smiling in that arrogant way of his.
Most call it charming, but right now, it’s like he somehow knows he’s won.
Which is impossible, because if he truly knew how my heart stops every time I’m even in the same vicinity as his future wife, I don’t think he’d be so amicable.
“She still can’t shift.”
“I see.” He doesn’t look upset or concerned. He almost seems pleased. “Well, it was worth another try. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyhow, seeing as we’ll be wed tomorrow. Just our being united by marriage is enough to strengthen our forces.”
“Tomorrow? That’s fast.”
“It’s the best strategy for the coming war.” He stands and adjusts the lapel of his black dinner coat. “I trust that you’ll help me get ready tomorrow? Maybe make sure that Zara doesn’t turn into a fire breathing dragon at the last minute?”
His genuine smile wrecks me with guilt. Even if our relationship is a strained one, he's always acted like a friend. Mostly. And here I am, thinking about his betrothed as if she were mine.
I force myself to chuckle at the old joke. “Of course.”
He goes to the door then looks back at me. “I don’t need to worry about you, do I, Alfrie?”
I freeze recalling the irritation on his face when he walked into the greenhouse last night. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
He grins. “That’s what I thought. Enjoy your solitude.” He leaves and I bury my face in my hands.
Even if he were jealous, he knows at his core she would want nothing to do with me. He is the handsome prince, after all. I’m just a—well, nothing.
Besides, I have more important things to concern myself with than a female who can’t love me. I pat the rag doll that rests safely in my pocket and push myself up from the table to go back to concocting the sleep aid I’ve been glamoured to create in secrecy.
I hold the clear vial up against the candlelight and swirl the deep purple liquid.
It’s thick and the dregs coat the glass as it swishes.
Perfect. I only needed a quarter of the petal that I'd collected in the greenhouse, the rest of it is scattered on the table next to the medicine. It should be enough for a good night’s sleep.
I fear that any more of the plant might cause Elara to never wake up.
Which, I'd be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind.
I cork the vial and pocket the mixture. I open the door, about to go and locate the evil queen and run right into her.
Her dinner dress isn’t as revealing as the one she wore when she invaded my space her first night in Lanray.
The neckline is high, rising to the middle of her throat and a black velvet cloak covers her shoulders.
Good. Hopefully she won’t attempt to put me under a spell again.
“Good evening, Alfrie. I trust you have something for me?”
My hand is still on the doorknob, and I step backward into the room to let her come in. “I was just bringing it to you, actually.”
She brushes her long fingernails over my chest as she enters the room, and a shiver runs through me.
“Good boy. Let’s have it.” She holds her palm out to me and I place the vial into her hand.
She moves to the table and holds the vial near the light, swirling it as I had only moments before.
“This is it? This will help with my little problem?”
“Yes, the plant can be deadly. There’s only a small piece of petal in the mixture. Enough for sleep, but it won’t harm you. It might take an hour or so to kick in.”
“I see.” Her long lashes blink and her gaze falls upon the bits of petal lying about my worktable. “Is this the rest of the plant?”
“Yes, but, like I said, you won’t need it.” I make a move to gather the flower pieces so I can discard them and Elara steps around the table, blocking me.
“You did say that. Thank you for making this.” She grabs my arm, and I wince at the sting of her nails as they dig into my flesh. “Did you tell anyone of my request?”
“I will tell no one.” The words spill from my lips as they have been compelled to do.
Her grip loosens and she sweeps past me. “I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.” With that, she opens the door to leave.
Alix stands in the doorway with his arm lifted as though he was about to knock. He ducks his chin, “Your Majesty, I was searching for you to escort you to dinner.” He glances at me from around Elara. “Alfrie? I thought the healer’s room was upstairs.”
Elara smiles cruelly at me from over her shoulder. “Alfrie was helping me figure out what herbs to take for headaches.” She wraps her bony fingers around Alix’s arm just as she had mine. “I would love for you to escort me. Come.”
Alix narrows his eyes at me. But he says nothing and leads the queen down the hallway. I close the door behind them and slide the wooden lock into place.
So much for a secret place where I can enjoy some peace and quiet.
I rub my arm where Elara dug her nails into my skin and glance at the table. I suck in a breath. The scraps of the Jimson Weed petals are gone.