The servant looks up from the fire. "Yes, for lunch, at your request, my lady. You didn't eat much of it. Or the porridge at breakfast."
I explode. "Why wasn't I made aware of this?"
Both maids jump.
"Sir, she ate well yesterday," Lupa whines apologetically.
I redirect my anger where it belongs, at the foolish girl shivering on her bed. "How did you survive so long if this is how you take care of yourself?"
She chuckles as though I've made a joke.
"She's fine," the witch repeat. "It's just a little cold. You were out in the rain yesterday, yes?"
"A little," she admits.
I remember laughing at her drenched clothes and the wet curls plastered to her skin. In hindsight, the scene is far less amusing.
"She was in Ravelyn less than two days ago," I add. "The change of temperature can affect commons, right?"
The witch nods. "You'll have to be careful to stay warm and dry, little lady," she admonishes Hel, digging into her oversized leather bag.
She retrieves a fist-sized blue flask and hands it to me. "See that she drinks three healthy sips now, the same before bed and in the morning. She should be fine tomorrow."
"Thank you," I say, making her laugh.
"For the amount you're paying me, you don't have to thank me, Your Majesty."
She soon leaves, along with the maids I send to bring refreshments and fresh bedding back. I'm alone, standing next to her bed awkwardly.
She sits up slowly, the effort making her grunt, and extends her hand to me.
I take it, and Hel chuckles. "The medicine, silly."
"Right." Jaw tight, I hand her the potion, and watch her drink three times.
She scowls. "It tastes like feet."
"That's what you get for letting yourself get sick." I don't think I'm likely to forgive her for this brand of uncharacteristic stupidity.
I like my Helyn smart and feisty.
I drag the armchair from next to her handsome dressing table close to the bed and sit.
"Are you staying here?"
"Well, you're clearly incapable of keeping yourself alive, so I'll have to, won't I?"
The room soon grows uncomfortably warm, and the maids bring her a cover on top of it.
I remain there for the rest of the night.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
THE KING’S GUARD
Iwake in the early morning, according to the light out of my window, with a slight headache and the acute need to jump into a pit, embarrassed beyond words.
I can't believe I let myself get sick here, in all places. The images assaulting my mind as I drag myself upward make me want to hide for the rest of my days. Did I honestly let Zale carry me in his arms like a bloody princess?