He touched it with his fingertips. The slick liquid left an ugly smear against her milk-pale skin. The thin shift, drenched in blood, clung to her tepid flesh like matted weeds.
Varkas stared blankly down at the sight, then pressed his ear against her bloodstained chest. A faint pulse beat against his temple.
Only then did his paralyzed thoughts snap back into motion.
He scooped her up, bedsheets and all, and kicked the chamber door wide.
A few maids passing through the hallway froze in terror at the sight. Varkas unleashed a thunderous roar.
“Fetch a physician! Now!”
Her innards felt raw, as if scalded by boiling water. The searing agony made her feel as though her belly were festering from within. After a brief fit of writhing and panting hot air, an icy chill set in, so severe it felt as if frozen needles were driving into her marrow.
She fumbled weakly, clutching at the blankets. As if moved by her wretched state, someone pulled her into a tight embrace, their arms as searing as heated iron.
She let out a groan of relief at the warmth soaking into her veins, but the blaze inside her ignited once more.
She tossed and turned, bathed in cold sweat. Sensing her torment, the arm wrapped around her back began to slip away.
She seized the retreating warmth with every ounce of strength she had left.
‘Hold me. Don’t leave me alone.’
Whether the person understood the words that hummed only in her throat, the fierce heat enveloped her small frame once again.
It burned. Yet, somehow, it made her feel safe.
She burrowed into that broad chest like a chick tucking beneath a hen’s wing.
Before long, the gouging agony in her belly dulled, and a silence like that of a crypt descended. It felt as though she were floating in lukewarm water.
How long had she drifted in that strangely tranquil haze? Her foggy mind gradually found its shore.
Talia barely managed to lift her leaden eyelids. Slanting light piercing through the canopy pricked her vision. When a quiet groan escaped her throat at the sting, rushed footsteps approached from nearby.
“Your Highness! Are you truly awake?”
Talia turned her head, frowning at the sight of Nanny, who was already on the verge of tears.
Nanny took her hand and sniffled loudly.
“Do you know how worried I was? Why must this keep happening…?”
Talia stared, bewildered. She had no recollection of what had happened, or how.
As she pressed a hand against her throbbing temple, Nanny, who had been shedding fat tears, suddenly sprang to her feet.
“Listen to me! Now is not the time for blubbering. Please wait just a moment. I’ll fetch the physician right away.”
With that, she bustled out of the bedchamber.
Once quiet returned to the room, Talia’s thoughts finally began to piece themselves together. She took in the modest chamber.
It took several seconds to remember that they had reached an eastern-border city. But everything after was a blur, as if she had been dreaming with her eyes wide open.
“You have finally come to.”
While she traced the broken shards of memory, a female physician hurried into the room.
Breathing hard, the woman approached the bedside.
“How do you feel?”
Talia looked up at her with dazed eyes and parted her parched lips. A dry, rasping sound scraped out of her throat.
At once, the physician poured water into a cup and offered it to her.
Talia struggled to sit up, leaning her back against the headboard, and wet her mouth with the lukewarm water. The swallow running down her esophagus grated against her stomach.
When she broke into a dry cough at the sickening irritation, the physician promptly drew the cup away.
“Do not drink too quickly. Your stomach lining has sustained severe injury, so you must be cautious even with plain water for the time being.”
Talia’s brow furrowed.
“Injury? My stomach?”
“Do you truly not remember?”
When Talia shook her head, the physician explained in a composed voice.
“Your Highness collapsed shortly after arriving at this castle. You have been in a critical state with fever for nearly two full days.”
Talia’s eyes widened, her face draining of color as a single memory pierced the fog.
She had been lying on the bed. A sudden, violent cramp had ripped through her gut. Before she could even think to cry out against the agony, hot fluid had surged up her throat. She had lost consciousness almost the moment it tore out of her.
Talia held her still-aching solar plexus, her gaze freezing into a glare.
“Did someone poison me?”
“No, Your Highness. It does not appear to be poison.”
The physician was quick to deny it.
“It seems to have been an internal hemorrhage brought on by an adverse reaction to the tonic you have taken over the past few weeks.”
“An adverse reaction?”
Talia gave her a cold, disbelieving look.
The physician carried on smoothly.
“The decoction Your Highness took contained medicinal herbs that place a severe burden on the stomach. Ordinarily, they are excellent restoratives meant to invigorate and replenish vitality… but when administered over a prolonged period to a patient with a frail digestive tract, they carry a grave risk of internal bleeding.”
A hollow sneer twisted Talia’s lips.
“So you mean to tell me they gave me such medicine by sheer mistake?”
The physician’s face stiffened slightly.
She let out a quiet, heavy breath.
“That is my medical conclusion.”
· · ·
“I examined the remaining medicine Your Highness had taken. It was composed solely of herbs intended for convalescence. However, it seems the physician who prepared it failed to recognize that Your Highness’s stomach is as fragile as an infant’s.”
Talia’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“You seem remarkably eager to defend her.”
“I merely report what the facts show. I do not wish for Your Highness to exhaust yourself with groundless suspicion.”
Responding without a ripple of emotion, the woman straightened. With practiced, deliberate movements, she lifted a small kettle from the bedside table.
“In any event, the physician responsible will be disciplined accordingly. From this moment forth, I shall oversee Your Highness’s treatment myself.”
She poured an amber liquid into a small cup.
Talia watched her hands with open distrust. The woman offered a faint, dry smile as she spoke.
“It is honeyed water brewed with mild herbs to soothe the stomach. Sipping it slowly will ease the spasms.”
Talia took the cup reluctantly, though she had no intention of bringing it to her lips.
After staring down at the warm surface for a long while, Talia asked in a tight voice,
“The medicine I drank before… are you absolutely certain it was not poison?”
“I cannot entirely rule out the possibility that other substances were introduced at some point… but had that occurred, traces of the toxin would have lingered in your body. Yet Your Highness displayed none of the hallmarks of poisoning.”
“Then….”
‘Is Varkas all right?’
The question rose to her lips, but she swallowed it down. She had no plausible excuse for why he would have consumed a tonic brewed for her.
Talia moistened her dry mouth. Varkas, too, had been drinking that medicine, sip by sip.
Had it truly done him no harm?
Anxious tension prickled under her skin, and she spoke with forced casualness.
“That medicine… if an ordinary, healthy person took it, it wouldn’t cause any harm, would it?”
The physician looked mildly surprised by the inquiry, but nodded.
“Indeed. Under normal circumstances, it would serve only to restore one’s vigor.”
Talia’s tense shoulders dropped in a rush of relief. An instant later, a bitter pang of self-loathing hit her, and she let out a hollow laugh.
It was sickening. She felt more relieved knowing he had not been harmed than knowing no one was trying to murder her.
Talia passed a trembling hand over her face, her dry, chapped lips quivering.
“Varkas….”
Where was he now?
What face did he make when he saw her fall?
She swallowed down the questions crowding her throat and sank back against the pillows.
END