Chapter 52
I lunged at the queen, seizing a handful of her flaming hair with all the wildness of madness. My fury had overtaken reason. She drove me to the edge of my senses. Her sclera were tinged faintly pink, yet her dreadful grin remained. My suffering delighted her. She made no attempt to stop me.
With a force I did not know I possessed, I drew back my fist and struck her right in the face. She fell, and I straddled her at once, my hands tightening around her throat. I pressed down with all my strength, wishing she would cease to breathe.
And yet, she allowed it. She could have cast me off with ease, but she chose not to. There was no strain in her expression. No desperation. Her face did not even redden. It was as though pain could not reach her.
She took hold of my wrists with appalling gentleness. That touch only enflamed my hatred further. I did not want her kindness. I wanted her gone.
I despised her so deeply, I could see her death again and again behind my eyes. Yet each vision brought me no satisfaction. She remained. Breathing. Smiling.
"Did you know," she murmured, "that Nerissea needs me? What shall become of her, should you choke me dead upon this floor?"
The thought of Nerissea suffering struck through my rage. I released her, shoving her hands away from me. But she reached up and wrapped her arms about my waist, firm and revolting.
"You let go so quickly," she said, rising with unhurried grace and drawing me close. "As though you already knew the reason why."
"I am glad my family granted Nerissea justice by casting yours into the abyss," I said, hoping at last to wipe that smile from her face.
But to my bitter disappointment, her wicked grin only widened.
"How sharp your tongue has grown. Shall I recount… in precise detail… Nerissea's suffering during all those days you and I were entwined in affection? I did not bed her… she scarcely endured it."
My body shook. I had not thought it possible to grow angrier still. The very notion of Nerissea in pain tore at me. Had this vile woman told me then that Nerissea needed her, I would have accepted it. No. I would have urged it.
"Oh, my sweet Naevia," she said softly. "Are you unwell? If one cannot return a blow of words, it is wiser not to strike first."
"I hate you."
"Somehow… I find that difficult to believe."
"Remove your filthy hands from me at once! You said I was free!"
"I suppose," she replied, loosening her grasp at last.
I sprang to my feet and backed away from her. As I turned, prepared to glare at the watching crowd before making leaving, I found the chamber empty.
There was no one to witness my fury.
How disappointing. I had hoped they might at least have seen me choking the witch.
Without casting her another glance, I stormed out. My feet carried me toward the palace entrance, and I halted upon the threshold. Because something did not align.
The elderly gentleman at the alchemy shop whom Sister Alethea and I visited long ago had sworn there was no cure for the poison. What if the royal alchemist had altered it, rendering an antidote possible? I had splashed that very liquid upon the queen's face and she did not even trouble herself to wipe it away. I even saw her swallow a trace of it in her surprise, yet she showed no fear.
If she felt none, was it poison at all? Perhaps the poison was false, and the antidote likewise a fiction, a ruse to compel my return each day. Perhaps the notion of the antidote was no more than a last-minute invention, conceived only because she was bound to honor the promise of the first king and grant me my freedom.
My heart raced wildly. I could scarcely believe my mind was capable of such thoughts.
I struck my palms against my head, desperate to rouse my mind to clarity. I knew there were truths within reach, fragments that might fit together if only I could grasp them. Yet no matter how fiercely I tried, nothing came to me but the dull ache of my hits.
In that case, my first task must be to depart from the palace and uncover the truth behind the poison. My goal was to return home to Baymoon, for who am I to pass judgment upon my family's actions, when I myself have taken a man's life?
I shall recover Sister Alethea's body. And perhaps, with my family's aid, I might secure Nerissea's escape from the devil who holds her. If her contract was altered once, it may yet be altered again. I suspect the queen never bothered to restore it, likely by cruel design. She is, after all, a creature born of malice.
I ascended the stairs in haste, for I had not a single coin to my name. Once within my chamber and the door standing wide with a few maids lingering just beyond it, I seized a pillowcase and made my way directly to the vanity. Ignoring the maids, I swept handfuls of jewelry into the cloth. The maids had said these were gifts to me on my first day at the palace, and so I did not count it theft. And even if it were, I did not care.
Should they choose to betray me, I would hurl the whole bundle into the queen's wretched face. With the sharpness of certain pieces, I daresay it would sting.
The scene materialized in my head and I tossed in every last trinket.
--
A few paces from where I sat, I heard a common woman murmur to her companion, "They say Lady Naevia is six months with child."
I cast a glance at my flat belly.
Since my departure from the palace, I had found that nearly every whisper, every idle tale, seemed to concern either myself or my family. At every paper stand, our names adorned the headlines.
At last, I understood why in the days when I lit Nerissea's hearth, it was always new papers that were used for kindling, never old. It had been deliberate. The queen had orchestrated it. She had taken care to ensure that I would never stumble upon news from beyond the palace walls. She had planned to keep me imprisoned in both body and mind. Her cruelty knew no end.
The proprietor approached my table, wiping his hands upon the apron tied round his waist. "How was your meal?" he inquired politely.
I was seated in a modest establishment, clearly intended for common folk.
"Quite good," I replied. My tone was neither cold nor gracious.
My kindness perished with Sister Alethea. I no longer possess the will to smile, nor do I see any purpose in feigning warmth. There is naught to smile for. There is little in this world to be kind toward. The world is cruel. Ombrithar is but a fiction. There are no angels in heaven. There was not even heaven, just the empty sky.
I reached into my coin pouch and placed the proper sum into the owner's hand. The pouch was heavy, weighed down by the proceeds from the jewelry I had pawned. I had sold every piece I took, including the pillowcase itself, for it had been sewn of the finest silk.
Whether the palace staff had reported my theft or not, the queen had made no move to pursue me. Thus, I had been robbed of the one small satisfaction of swinging that wretched pillowcase into her face.
Behind me, a woman carried on with her chatter. "Do you think we ought to leave the kingdom? I feel as though war is near. They say Viscountess Ashcroft has gone to the Duchy of Ivoryspire to seek alliance with the duchess there."
A sharp jolt tore through me, as though lightning had struck my very core. I lowered my gaze.
Ivoryspire.
That was where Sister Alethea and I had once planned to flee. Merely hearing the name pained me.
The woman continued, unaware of the blade she twisted. "The Viscount and the Duke of Baymoon still hold fast at the border. I am most uneasy."
"Pardon me," I said to the owner. "Might you direct me to the nearest alchemy shop?"
"Certainly," he replied. "Step outside and turn left. Two streets down, you shall find 'Durinat' on your left."
Following his instructions, I soon arrived at the place. It was a fine shop, grand enough that even the proudest noble would not hesitate to cross its threshold.
Within, there were not only rows of potions neatly arranged upon the central shelves, but along the entire left wall were slave contracts, each sealed within a glass case and set upon a wooden pedestal as though it were some sacred altar. Above each, a paper described the terms of the bondage. The sight was sickening. I clenched my jaw and approached the counter.
The shopkeeper, a man perhaps in his fifties, gave me a cursory glance. Though my figure was frail, I was still finely dressed, and that seemed to please him.
"Greetings, dearest guest!" he said with rehearsed cheer. "What might I procure for you today?"
"I have come to inquire about a particular substance. It is a liquid, deep crimson in color, and possesses a most offensive odor."
"Hmm," the shopkeeper murmured, placing a thoughtful finger to his chin. "Have you any further detail?"
"It is used in the preparation of Unklin, though I know not its other purposes."
"Ah, you must mean Perileed," he said, his eyes lighting with recognition. "It is the principal ingredient in Unklin."
Unklin was the antidote commonly administered for snake venom.
"Is there an antidote for Perileed itself, should one consume it in raw form?"
"I am afraid not," he said, and as he looked more closely at my face, his expression shifted. His eyes widened slightly, as if something had just dawned upon him. "You do not appear well. Did you consume Perileed by accident?" He narrowed his eyes. "No, that cannot be. If you had, your eyes would be twitching."
"What do you mean?"
"There have been documented cases of Perileed poisoning. One of the telltale symptoms is an uncontrollable twitch of the eye."
"Then what was it she gave me? It looked and smelled so like Perileed…" I murmured to myself, straining to summon more from memory.
The man chuckled. "Oh dear. I believe I know what this is about."
"Pardon?"
"Have you been consuming Soomira?"
"I am unfamiliar with the name."
"It is a potion. It induces nausea. The longer one takes it, the more revolting the taste becomes."
"Yes. I have been taking something of that nature for quite some time."
That must be the potion the queen had forced upon me, again and again.
"You drank Lumesio," he declared.
I stared at him, perplexed.
"It is the only substance that resembles Perileed in both scent and color," he explained. "It is often paired with Soomira..."
His gaze flicked to the coin pouch tied at my waist.
What a greedy man. Even knowledge came at a cost.
I reached into my pouch and placed a silver coin upon the counter. He accepted it with a pleased grin and offered a courteous incline of his head.
"Many thanks, miss."
"Go on," I said plainly.
"Ah, yes! Lumesio may be taken alone, but such instances are exceedingly rare, for it is most difficult to obtain and carries a high price. For that reason, none would ever think to consume it without first having taken Soomira for some time, as it heightens Lumesio's effects. Lumesio possesses remarkable nourishing properties."
A storm of confusion whirled in my thoughts. What was the queen's true purpose in forcing me to consume Soomira in such a degrading manner? And why did she wear such a wicked expression when she pressed Lumesio through my lips?
Was it all some grand performance, meant for the eyes of others?
I looked at the shopkeeper. "I should like to purchase a potion that might render me instantly clever."
He laughed, as though I had said something childlike. I found it thoroughly rude.
"There is no such draught. If such a thing existed, kingdoms would wage war to possess it. That said, there is one known to sharpen the mind and aid in focus."
"I shall take it. I shall take several. No, a dozen. No, an entire crate."
"At once, miss!" he said brightly, giving a deep and theatrical bow.