Page 63 of This Prince Is Not Charming

Before I could get my question out, servants appeared in the gardens, heading straight toward the tent.

“I should go,” Cillian said, practically bolting.

I watched as his figure got farther away, a feeling in my gut that something had irreparably changed between us today, something we’d never get back.

“Oh, strawberries!” one of the servants said as she stepped into the tent and popped one into her mouth. “Don’t mind if I do,” she said through a mouthful.

Tears welled in my eyes. I needed to get out of here, and I was about to take a step, when she yelled, “Watch out!”

“What?” I froze, foot in the air.

A few other servants had filled the tent now, and one of them pointed.

“You were about to step on that glass vial. That would go right through your delicate slipper.”

I looked down at the little vial, noticing some blue liquid pooled in the bottom. It must have fallen out of Cillian’s pocket. Siobhan’s warning once again flashed in my mind.

I shook my head and bent over to pick it up, tucking it into the pocket of my dress. “Right. Thank you.” I started backing away. “Enjoy the food.”

I turned and hurried away, vial clutched tight in my hand. It was time to make a visit to our town healer.

CHAPTER 27

Cillian

Ibarely made it back to my room, my heart pounding out of my chest, my vision blurry. And godwitches, why was it so fucking hot?

I stumbled onto my bed, sprawling out on my back. My head was spinning as I stared at the ceiling, trying to get a grip on myself, but I couldn’t see straight. I could barely form a thought, other than that image of Ceri’s face, so horrified by what we’d been about to do.

All these years, I’d kept such a careful grip on my control . . . and that had come crashing down today. Now it was all imploding inside me, and I felt like I might actually die.

I rolled over and curled into a ball, bringing my knees tight to my chest and knowing that only one thing could help me right now. Just one more vial. One more, and then I’d get help. I’d go to Enid and see if she had any suggestions on how to control my use, get back to just my daily sips. But I was too far gone today. My emotions were spiraling inside me, rising into a tidal wave that was going to crash and drown me completely. I wouldn’t recover if I didn’t get more of my tonic.

Get high. Lor’s voice echoed, and I brought my hands to my head and squeezed. “Shut up,” I said. “Just shut up.”

I didn’t want to think about Lor, who probably wasn’t even real. I didn’t want to think about Ceri. I didn’t want to think about the trials. I wanted to shut it all out, and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t. I’d taken a whole fucking vial, for godwitches’ sake. That should’ve kept me numb for days, if not weeks.

Sweat prickled across my skin, and I stripped off my sticky shirt. My body was on fire. I needed help, but if I asked for help, then they’d know. Everyone would discover my secret.

Ceri would discover my secret, and then all my carefully kept lies would crumble apart when she realized why I’d started taking this tonic in the first place. Why I so badly needed to numb myself.

I yelled out in pain as a wave of spasms rocked my body, my stomach seizing.

“Fuck,” I yelled out. “Make it stop. Someone please make it stop.”

“There is no making it stop,” a voice said, and I lifted my head, barely able to see Lor’s blurry form walking toward me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked my brother, voice weak and ragged.

He sat on the edge of my bed. “You’re sick. You need to call for help.”

“I can’t,” I said. “She can’t know.”

“Ceri?” Lor scoffed. “She already knows something is wrong.”

“How would you know that?” I asked, and it dawned on me that I’d been right all along. Lor wasn’t real. I’d been imagining him. He was some part of my mind, a hallucination.

Maybe I was sicker than I’d thought.