I glanced at Naari and knew it was true. I had seen the terror in her eyes when I’d asked to be taken to Altair. “If he’s already proved he’ll murder Omegas to keep his false throne...”
“Exactly.” Thorn moved to Altair’s side, pushing his hood back as he examined the patient for himself, checking his pulse and breathing. “They allow him to wake each day at some point, to care for basic bodily functions. I’m fairly certain the sedatives and cyanide are in the food they give him. Tonight, I’ll stay here and feed him something a bit more conducive to staying awake and telling us what’s going on.”
“No.” A thought occurred to me. “My water is lightly sedated. I’ll pretend to drink more of it than usual, and beg off. And I need to be as far from that dining hall as I can be, or I’ll kill Gullen.” Thorn flinched, but nodded. He knew I wasn’t kidding. “You make my excuses. Tell them I’m exhausted, sleeping deeply, maybe growing ill. I’ll stay here under the dais, and find out who’s feeding him and when.”
“We don’t have long, Roya. My priority is keeping you safe, not protecting this prince.” Honestly, I was surprised Thorn was at all concerned about Altair. A grim smile surfaced as he stared at the sleeping prince. “But I do think the two goals are related. And honestly, if the regent were gone, this island wouldn’t be a bad place to live.”
Not a bad place to live? Did he mean for me, or himself? Maybe he thought he could escape the Guild by staying here. If that was true, I would help him find a way to stay.
He stepped away from the bed, pulling his hood down over his face once again. “Do you have enough anti-sedative herbs? Charcoal tablets? Fresh water?”
“I have some, and Naari can get me more later.” I had a feeling that she would go to great lengths to help us accomplish what we planned. He was her prince, after all, and from what I could tell, she was devoted to his care.
She kept trying to say something—warn us about something—but I couldn’t make it out. Finally, she made a motion from her chest to her lips to the sky. I copied it, knowing this must be a prayer to the Goddess.
Thorn and Naari both slipped away, and I slid under the dais, hidden by the layers of white gauze. Just in time.
I couldn’t see much through the fabric, only shadowy shapes of legs entering the pavilion. Sounds were muted as well, until three voices raised in anger drew my attention. The men spoke quickly in Haviran, so I listened more to the tone than the individual words. The bed above me moved; they must be lifting Altair up. Then water was poured, and the clank of metal and splashing filled the room.
A weak voice asked something in a slurred wisp, and a harsh voice—I recognized it as the regent’s—answered. There were sounds of more water splashing, and even chairs or some sort of furniture being moved. Finally, everything grew quiet. I waited another few minutes, then dared to pull back some of the gauze.
The prince reclined in a tub of water, his eyes shut, head thrown back against the side. His emaciated legs and arms hung listlessly over the edges of the tub. A small table of food and drink sat nearby. Naari was the only servant there. When she saw my eyes, she pressed a finger to her lips, then beckoned me forward with one hand.
I slipped out, my dagger held low, just in case she wasn’t as sympathetic as she’d seemed, or as observant as she needed to be.
“Naari?” the prince called out and let loose a stream of liquid syllables that made the woman laugh. She answered him, and his eyelids lifted slowly.
When he saw me standing in front of him, those dark eyes grew wider, and he blinked, impossibly long lashes fanning like wings as they moved. He said a word that sounded likelarkial. He repeated it, his eyes sparkling like black diamonds in the low light. “Larkial?”
Naari let out another laugh and said something that made his cheeks flush. Goddess, he was even more beautiful awake. I felt my chest grow prickly and hot.
“Hello, Prince Altair,” I said in Mirrenese, as quietly as I could. “I’m Roya.”
“Roya?” His voice was raspy from disuse. Naari carried a cup of water over to him, but I stopped her with a questioning look. She nodded in understanding, took a sip herself, then handed it to him.
“I’d like to give you some herbs that will help you wake up,” I told him. “You’ve been sleeping for far too long.” I approached, trying not to ogle as I took in more of his naked form. The water had white flower petals floating it and was cloudy with soap. What must he have looked like before he had been betrayed? My scent swirled around me as I pictured him naked and strong, and wished I could stay here long enough to see it.
His nostrils flared. “You are an Omega?” he whispered in perfect Mirrenese.
“Yes,” I said, shocked. When had he learned modern Mirrenese? “From Verdan City.”
“One of Milian’s,” he breathed. “But we thought they were all… Oh, Goddess, you have to escape. He’ll kill you.”
“The regent?” I pulled out the anti-sedatives. I’d administer the treated charcoal a few hours later to help soak up residual poisons. “We are on our guard.”
“We?”
“I’m here with two others.” I stirred the powders into the water and help the cup to his lips to drink. He hesitated, and I apologized. He must be accustomed to being sedated and poisoned in just this way. “I swear on the Goddess it will not make you sleep. I want you well.”
He nodded, his dark hair drifting over his face. I reached out and pushed it away from his face, allowing the soft, damp strands to flow over my forearm like feathers. He drank, then let his head fall back to the edge of the tub.
It would take a while for the herbs to work, so I sat quietly as he rested. After a few moments, I asked, “What doeslarkialmean?”
“Angel,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “You look like a picture I saw once from a Mirrenese book. An angel with golden hair, and sky-blue eyes, and wings.”
“I’m no angel.” I stifled a laugh. “Though I would love to have wings.”
“What are you then?” His gaze, though hazy, traveled over me in a way that spoke less of divine beings, and more of earthly pleasures.
