Page 23 of A Touch of Poison
I’d spent years on my estate with just two other people, and much of that time working alone. It had never bothered me. But Ella’s friendship and whatever I’d believed was happening between me and Bastian had left a hole.
The books had gone halfway towards filling it, and normally drink would top up the rest, helping me sleep.
But it turned out I couldn’t get drunk anymore, as the half empty decanter attested to. This magic was stopping the alcohol. Had to be. I didn’t feel the slightest bit fuzzy. It certainly hadn’t silenced the memories that came now I was alone.
Losing control of my body as I shook and stumbled through Riverton Palace, poison creeping along my veins. The pain. The numbness in my fingers. The world turning grey and fading in and out of existence.
And underlining it all—the knowledge that the same poison lingered in my system, ready to claim my life if Bastian forgot to come and give me the antidote.
It was a week since the debriefing and I’d barely seen him. Every day I left a note to remind him about the antidote. Dutifully, he would appear while I was in the middle of eating lunch (invariably while my mouth was full), touch my wrist, then disappear before I had a chance to say a word.
Aside from the servants, that was the only time I saw another soul. I tried to speak to them. One of the women who brought me meals had caramel-coloured hair like Ella’s. I’d hoped she might have something of her personality. I’d been disappointed.
There was only one Ella.
This woman was polite and answered some questions but deflected most. The other servants were the same.
The only other face I saw was in the mirror, and I didn’t recognise that woman anymore. She hadn’t even summoned much of a smile when a message had arrived from Elthea telling me to come for an appointment tomorrow.
Instead, I’d found people in the books on his shelves—or their facsimiles, at least. Good enough to quiet my mind. They carried me on their adventures, a silent observer sitting on their shoulder, sifting through their thoughts, seeing patterns and experiences I recognised, even though I’d never been in the same situations. They saved me from my loneliness. For a while.
Many of the stories were in Albionic, thankfully. But I finished those too quickly. One was in Frankish—the first chapter was a struggle, like pushing a wheelbarrow with a rusted axle. With perseverance, it wore off, though, and I found myself enjoying the tale of a girl who dressed as a boy in order to join the ranks of the king’s famous guard. But it was over too soon.
A handful of the books were in a script I couldn’t make head nor tail of—it used a slashing alphabet I’d never seen before. Several were in a language that wasn’t quite Latium. The verb declensions were completely different—much simpler, thankfully—but most vocabulary seemed the same. Perhaps a precursor? Still, it was close enough for me to understand, and I read those books falteringly.
I’d finished the last one just after dinner.
And now I was alone.
For a while I’d paced, trying to distract my mind with movement, but I found myself picking at the seams of my gloves.
So, here I sat, a useless sack of bones.
A fucking gloomy sack of bones.
I downed the rest of my drink, barely tasting it, and poured another.
He couldn’t mean to keep me locked in here forever, could he? I tried to ask when he appeared at lunchtime, but I’d barely managed two words before he disappeared again.
Of course. He had work to do.
Maybe he’d been in such a rush, he’d forgotten to lock the door.
I lurched to my feet, not even swaying despite how much I’d drunk. Once I reached the antechamber, I held my breath and tried the door.
Still locked. And magically, so my rudimentary lock picking skills were a waste of time. (I’d broken a few hairpins finding that out.)
I needed…
I neededsomething. Wringing my hands, I returned to the settee and threw myself onto it.
Answers. Something to do. A conversation, even. Anything but sitting here waiting to die from that changeling’s poison.
If I stayed up late enough, I would catch Bastian.
So, I commanded the fae lights to dim and sat in the gathering darkness with his brandy and waited.
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