The Princess, page 10
“Shall I carry you to the infirmary?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I… I just need to sit and rest. For just a moment.”
“Do you think you can make it to the alcove around the corner?”
She nodded, setting her jaw. They started walking again but her steps only seemed to grow more and more unsteady. The sickness might have left her, but her body was clearly still struggling. By the time they made it to the alcove, the tremors coursing through Aurelia’s body had grown stronger. She pulled away from him, pressing her back up against one of the stone walls before she slid down to the floor. Dimitri immediately crouched down in front of her. Her breathing was shallow and her skin flushed bright red before her eyes fluttered shut and her body went limp.
“Lia,” Dimitri said, hastily moving over to catch her when she lolled to the side, his heart beating wildly and his stomach clenching.
At first, there was no response, and he was seconds away from picking her up and rushing her to the infirmary when she opened her eyes. She let out a quiet groan, leaning her head back against the stone wall.
“We need to get you to the infirmary,” Dimitri said. “Immediately.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to go to the infirmary.”
“No?” He repeated, jerking his head back. “Lia, you’re clearly unwell.”
“And if I go to the infirmary, Cyrus will tell me that there is no reason for me to be feeling this way.” She gave a frustrated wave of her hand. “Just as he has done every other time.”
Dimitri frowned. “This is not the first time this has happened?”
“It has been happening since I fell ill,” she said, averting her gaze as she fidgeted with the skirt of her cream-colored gown. “At least by now, I have figured out the warnings my body gives me before I faint. I was hoping to make it out of the banquet hall before I had another episode.”
“And Cyrus does nothing?” Dimitri shook his head in bewilderment. Cyrus had been the head royal physician since they were children, and Dimitri had never known Alekos, or anyone else for that matter, to be displeased with the physician’s care and work. It seemed so unlike him to be so dismissive. Especially considering that Cyrus was revered as one of the most knowledgeable and skilled physicians in the empire.
“I do not have an explanation for it,” Aurelia said with a shrug. “He is convinced that it is all in my mind, or part of some inherent weakness that all women possess. But I…” Her voice broke ever so slightly before she took a deep breath and continued. “I know that something is not right. Something is wrong.”
Dimitri’s chest ached, the defeat in her tone making him wish more than anything that he wasn’t needed back on the battlefront and that he could remain at the palace instead. This wasn’t like her.
“Have you spoken to Father?” he asked.
“Father believes what Cyrus tells him. And he reminds me that Cyrus is the physician and I am not.”
Dimitri blew out a long, low breath. “You truly do not wish to go to the infirmary?”
“It will do little good,” she said with a sigh. “I wish I could go back in the banquet hall—I know Father will be displeased that I am not there—but my stomach is too unsettled to eat and I’m too worried that I’ll faint again.”
“Father can manage without you in there tonight. Especially if you’re not feeling well.”
“I think I’d rather return to my chambers, get some rest, and see if I feel better in the morning.”
“To your chambers it is then.”
He helped her up off the floor, once again slipping an arm around her shoulders to help steady her. She leaned against him as they began to walk and he was relieved that the tremors that had been wracking her body earlier had vanished.
“I will speak to Father before I leave for Mador tomorrow,” he said, adjusting to her slower pace as they painstakingly made their way down one of the long, shadowy hallways. “It might do little good, but I will try. And I promise that I will come see you tomorrow before I leave.”
“Thank you.” She dropped her chin. “I do not wish to feel this way.”
“Of course you don’t,” he replied, lightly squeezing her shoulder. “There has to be some sort of solution here to get you feeling back to your old self. We just have to find it.”
Aurelia was slow as they climbed the staircase that led to the palace’s third level, her breathing once again shorter and labored by the time they reached the top. As they wound their way through the lantern-lit hallways, Dimitri watched her closely for any signs she might be losing consciousness again, but they arrived at her chambers without further incident. When they stepped into her common room, Dimitri spied the flowers that Fabian had brought her before he had left. Perhaps if Dimitri sent word to their brother of Aurelia’s current predicament, Fabian would be willing to pressure Alekos to do something as well.
“Do you need anything else?” Dimitri asked. “I can see about the kitchens sending you up something to eat.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I will ring for my handmaidens to help me ready for bed and hope that with a bit of rest, I’ll feel better come morning.”
“If you have need of me, send for me.”
“I will, thank you.”
He lingered for a brief moment, waiting until she was safely in her bedchamber before stepping back into the hallway. He made his way back down to the Caeruleum but paused to take a few deep breaths. Fear had engulfed him when Aurelia had almost died, and it was fighting to rear its head once more. How could he so clearly see that she was unwell when Cyrus couldn’t? Surely there had to be something that the physician could do. You’ll speak to Father, he told himself as he reached the bottom of the staircase. And push him to take action. This was a setback, that was all. They hadn’t lost Aurelia weeks ago when they had all feared the worst, and they wouldn’t lose her now.
Chapter 15
Aurelia remembered very little of the weeks she had been ill, outside of the excruciating pain and being unable to rise from her bed, but she had been informed by both Alekos and the palace physicians that there had been fear that the gods would take her. Yet somehow, she had been spared. When she had finally felt the sickness beginning to leave her body, she had thought that her life would return to what it once had been. That had been nothing more than a vain hope. The gods had spared her life, but they had spared little else.
She sank down into a chair in her common room, forcing herself to release a long exhale. Despite departing the banquet early, a night of rest had not helped her. Her heart raced, her pulse pounded in her neck, and the fatigue that washed over her felt like it would crush her. Given the tightness in her chest and the nausea in her belly, she would have thought she had just run the length of the docks, not walked from her bedchamber to her common room.
“Do you need anything else, Your Highness?” Claudia asked as she stepped into the room. After much pleading on Aurelia’s part and the threat of the plague lessening, Alekos had allowed Claudia to resume her duties, and Aurelia had been grateful to have the other woman back.
“No, Claudia. That will be all; thank you,” Aurelia replied. Her handmaiden had already helped her dress and tend to her hair and Aurelia had no intentions of straying far beyond her chambers while she was still feeling so unwell.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Claudia curtsied before slipping through one of the servant doors.
The salty sea breeze drifted into the common room from the open balcony doors, and a faint chorus of birds chirping came from somewhere outside. The horrifying winter that had left scars on the bodies and hearts of so many was finally beginning to slowly lose its grip.
Aurelia’s gaze strayed to the daily missives from the local scribes. She didn’t want to look at them, but at the same time, she knew that she needed to. Her sudden departure and absence at the banquet the night before had been noted by multiple scribes. Overwhelmingly, the story was spun to lay the blame on her delicate feminine nature, but there had been one scribe who had come perilously close to questioning the state of her mind while also implying that perhaps her fluctuations in weight since her illness had somehow unsettled her temperament. Her chest tightened again as she set the wax tablets aside, forcing herself to blow out another long breath. She could not afford for this to keep happening. It made her look weak and, by extension, it made the Imperial House look weak as well.
A knock at the door made her start and left her heart racing again. She brought a hand to her chest, silently scolding herself for the overreaction. She called for her visitor to enter, turning in her chair as Dimitri stepped into the room. He was dressed in his scarlet and silver uniform and the sight of it left a slight ache in her chest. He had to return to his men in Mador, but part of her still wished he could remain in Talekos instead.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he took a seat across from her.
“Not much improved,” she said with a sigh.
“Have you fainted again?”
“Not since last night.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I spoke to Father this morning, but he is insistent that Cyrus has done all he can.”
“As I expected.” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her dark green gown, running her fingers over the flowers and vines that had been carefully stitched into the silken fabric. Her gaze strayed back to the pile of tablets, the quiver in her middle returning. She had to find some way to move past this.
Dimitri cleared his throat. “Father did let something slip. He has reached out to Aunt Rhiannon, and it seems that she has offered to come to Talekos with Lady Brynn to see if she can perhaps aid you with whatever sickness is still lingering.”
Aurelia’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope fighting to settle in her chest. Her uncle Conor’s sister, Brynn, was a skilled healer and highly sought after for her abilities on her island home of Pern Coen.
“Has Father agreed?” she asked, scooting a little closer to the edge of her seat.
“He has,” Dimitri replied. “Mother thinks it’s a waste and that Lady Brynn will be able to do nothing that Cyrus can’t, but Father is willing to try. He wants to make the best possible match for you.”
Aurelia let out a soft sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.”
She did not want to continue to see herself as the center of court gossip, for not only would it reflect poorly on the Imperial House, it would also make it harder for Alekos to secure a marriage for her. No man would wish to wed a woman who wasn’t well in body or mind.
“I am hopeful,” Dimitri said with a faint smile. “It will take them some time to make the journey south, but perhaps Lady Brynn has seen something similar in the north. I wish I could be here when they arrive, but I cannot stay.”
“Are you still leaving today?”
“In a few hours,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve left Luca and Adrian with a mess in Mador between this plague and these damned raiders. My men need me.”
A twinge of guilt left a slight thickness in her throat. She had survived, but many had not. And as much as a part of her wished him to remain in Talekos, she knew he was needed on the field, defending the empire.
“I understand,” she said, mustering up a half smile. “Perhaps by the time you return, all of this will be behind me.”
“I hope so. And you know what excitement Aunt Rhiannon brings to the palace.”
Aurelia couldn’t suppress a smile of her own. Their aunt was unorthodox in a great many ways after her years of living on Pern Coen, and she would not simply conform to the rules of court just because she came to Talekos. Alekos allowed Rhiannon her eccentricities, Aurelia suspected because of the deep affection he held for Rhiannon, but it drove the nobility mad.
“I’ll write as often as I can,” Dimitri said.
“And I will as well.”
Dimitri embraced her. “Be well, Lia.”
Moisture stung her eyes as he straightened. She wanted to be well, needed to be well, more than anything. He left the room and when the door closed behind him, Aurelia’s gaze strayed back to the pile of wax tablets. She gathered them up and got to her feet, depositing them in a small basket near one of the servants’ doors. They would be collected by the servants and the words erased so the scribes could reuse them.
The walk to the table had gotten her heart racing and she grumbled under her breath as she retreated to the chair. Slumping down onto it, she rubbed her temples, wincing at the headache she felt coming on. Help is coming, she reminded herself. In the meantime, she had to hold onto the hope that she would be able to salvage the mess that her life had become.
Chapter 16
Fabian’s fleet had arrived in the city of Dives late in the night and Fabian had barely managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was expected to meet with Duke Lycaon of Lapis. A message had arrived in the early hours of the morning from Lycaon, trying to push Fabian to meet with him at his estate instead of the garrison, but Fabian had refused. He was exhausted after sailing the rough seas from the province of Primun to Lapis’ southern capital city, and he wasn’t in the mood to trek the five miles to Lycaon’s estate.
He rubbed his temple as he strode out onto the balcony that overlooked Dives coastline, the quiet waters of the Salis Sea lapping the shoreline a few feet away. The water was calm and there wasn’t a cloud in the bright blue sky, something he found to be a relief. He was damned weary of constant storms and relentless rain. A slight breeze ruffled the ends of his red cape and he took in a deep breath, trying to let the familiar smell of the salty air soothe him. Admiral Vulcanus had sent him to Dives to provide more protection for the powerful port city after weeks of Dives and its people being plundered by raiders. But Alekos had also had a purpose for sending Fabian to Dives: to remind Lycaon of his place.
“Duke Lycaon of Lapis,” one of his personal guards called to him.
Fabian turned as Lycaon was escorted out onto the balcony, two guards on either side of him. The duke wore a slight smirk that made Fabian’s spine stiffen. Alekos had warned him that Lycaon was not to be trusted and that the duke would be doing anything to try and gain the upper hand. The seal of the House of Lapis, a falcon carrying a sword in its talons, had been stitched into both his deep purple shirt and light grey pants. Lycaon bowed low before Fabian, but the slight smirk remained on his face when he straightened.
“Your Imperial Highness,” he said. “I see that His Majesty has finally decided to acknowledge my pleas for aid. I certainly hope that you are up to the challenge.”
“That is certainly a fascinating interpretation of the situation, Your Grace,” Fabian replied, gesturing to a stone table a few feet away. “Please, have a seat. Perhaps you can enlighten me more.”
Lycaon’s smirk vanished, his mouth turning down. “Of course, Your Highness. I would be happy to.”
That’s right, Fabian thought as he followed Lycaon over to the table. I will be your emperor one day, and you will learn that I will no more cower in your presence than Father. They settled at the table and a servant brought out goblets of wine along with a bit of fresh bread and grapes imported from Solis.
“I have at least some good news for His Majesty,” Lycaon said. He took a sip of his wine. “The spread of the plague has greatly diminished in recent weeks.”
“Yes,” Fabian replied. “After it was allowed to spread unchecked, wreaking havoc across the entire empire.”
Lycaon’s shoulders tensed. “Such things are not easily contained.”
“What was it you did again, Your Grace, when you first heard word of this strange sickness? For I believe you told His Majesty that his concerns over it were premature.”
“I did what I could as duke. I am not emperor.”
“No, you are not.”
“Well”—Lycaon gave a flippant wave of his hand before helping himself to a grape, some of the juice splattering onto his chin as he bit into it—“there is still the matter of these raiders, and Lapis has not received the aid it should have from Talekos. Too many of our ports have been left in shambles, and too much trade has been disrupted.”
“And yet, you balked at my fleet being sent here to reestablish order in Dives.”
“The people of Lapis have suffered with the plague and the raiders. Dives hardly has the resources to support extra soldiers or sailors.”
“You will have to decide which you value more, Your Grace. Your ports being safe and defended or your precious resources. Though from what I have heard, there are plenty of resources to be found at your estate.”
Lycaon’s face reddened, his nostrils flaring. “I value an emperor who protects his empire.”
“And His Majesty values dukes who do not try to undermine him and express false loyalty. Do not think the whispered rumors of you casting doubt and disdain on His Majesty have not reached the House of Vepi. You complain of His Majesty abandoning Lapis and question his capabilities as a leader, all the while impeding him at every turn. I am here to restore order to Dives, and I advise you to remember that my doing so is in your best interests, as well as that of the land you steward. Or you will learn exactly how deeply I despise noblemen who seek to subvert the gods ordained order of the empire.”
“You would be wise to watch your threats,” Lycaon said, curling his lip. “You are not emperor yet.”
“But unlike you, Your Grace”—Fabian took a long sip of his wine before clanking it down hard on the stone table with a cold smile—“I will be one day. My guards will see you out and I look forward to working with you to restore safety and prosperity to Dives.”
Fabian called for his guards, three of them striding out onto the balcony. Lycaon’s face was bright red as he got to his feet, his movements jerky as he strode off the balcony with Fabian’s guards surrounding him. As soon as they were gone, Fabian allowed his shoulders to slump. He rubbed his temple again. Alekos had warned him that Lycaon would not be cooperative, but he still wasn’t looking forward to weeks of putting up with the damned ingrate.
