Page 4 of A Touch of Poison
From the doorway, he winced at my wide-eyed stare.
Was this how he’d looked at his father before he’d killed him? He was a bad ally. Not someone to be relied on. I had to remember all those hard-learned lessons.
Sitting up, I held my breath for the count of three in an attempt to control it. “What are you going to do to me?”
He flinched. “What? No, I’m not…” He shook his head, jerky rather than smooth as he returned, giving the bed a wide berth. “It’s nothing like that.” But another wince creased around his eyes. “You’ve been thrashing around in your sleep. We didn’t want you hurting anyone.”
He couldn’t lie—not directly. Still, I tugged on the bindings. I was trapped and the sweeping arch of the vaulted ceiling andsomethingin the air told me this wasn’t Lunden. “Where are we?”
“Elfhame.” Arms folded, he leant against the cabinet and watched me like I might still run despite the straps. He didn’t come and unfasten them, either.
Alba. The fae realm. “How? Why?” But I knew and that knowledge unfolded, revealing more memories. “The poison. Asher said the healers here—”
Through the door swept a tall woman, her long, cream braids adding to the impression of height. “Awake at last.” The briefest smile flashed over her lips as she pulled on a pair of gloves made of some sort of fine material that sheened in the light.
“This is Elthea. She’s been looking after you.” There was no warmth in Bastian’s tone, just something stiff and almost formal.
“That’s right.” She stood over me, peering down. “You almost died.” She said it as though it was my fault for doing something foolish.
Which, I supposed was right. After all, I’d known what was in the glass when I’d gulped down the aconite-laced mead. Then again, I’d been fully aware of the consequences ofnotdrinking it.
Bastian may have hurt me. He might even have manipulated the simmering competition for the queen’s hand. But I held with my decision: he didn’t deserve to die, and if I’d let him take the poison, it would’ve been a diplomatic disaster.
I gave Elthea a faint shrug as if to say, “Humans, eh?”
She checked me over, peering into my eyes, placing a piece of carved crystal over my heart, then pausing, head tilted as though listening. As she noted the results in a book, she asked questions: whether I felt dizzy, if I could feel and move my legs. Next, she made me track a little ball of fae light that moved slowly at first, then darted across the ceiling.
All the while, Bastian watched in silence.
Eventually Elthea nodded as if satisfied. She unbuckled the straps around my wrists and took a step back before glancing at him. “Have you told her?”
Another wince. He shook his head, and unease slithered through me.
Dread. That was the other feeling I’d seen warring its way across his face, and now I felt it too.
“Told me what?” Goosebumps crept over my bare arms as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Elthea lifted her chin, closing her notebook. “I haven’t been able to fully remove the poison from your system. Its power seems to reset with nightfall.” Her lips pressed together. “Your condition is stable, but you need”—her pale eyes flicked back to Bastian who appeared frozen—“the antidoteevery day before sunset, or the poison will resume its effects as though you’ve just taken it.”
“Is there enough antidote? Asher said it took a week to—”
“There’s plenty.”
“That’s fine then.”
But Bastian remained propped against the cabinet, still and stiff and silent. Anyone would think he was the one who’d just discovered he was poisoned.
There was more to this.
I swallowed and looked from him to her and back again. “Isn’t it?”
His arms tightened over his chest, but it was Elthea who spoke. “You’ll have to stay in Elfhame while I work on a permanent cure for you, but I’m confident I’ll find one.” And shelookedit. Not arrogant, just confident and competent.
That was what had me exhaling my relief. I would get cured, then return to my estate—Robin’sestate—and hide from the entire world. Especially Bastian. Home, away from him and reminders of intrigue and deceit and the horrible foolishness of what I’d believed I’d almost had. Then I could figure out what to do next.
I’d have to check on Ella—but with unCavendish dead, at least she was safe. It wasn’t clear whether I’d be welcome back at court or if I was banned for my behaviour at the wedding, so checking on her might require some manoeuvring. Fingers crossed I wasn’t in trouble with the queen—maybe she knew I’d helped prevent war with the fae. Maybe she’d want to reward me, and I would get a divorce at last.
The silence rang on and Bastian remained clenched tight.
