“My back, my neck, my head. Everything aches today.”
“I’ll give you another massage.”
“No, I think I need something more today. Would you be so kind as to hand me my medicine?”
“Your medicine? What medicine?”
“It’s over there, inside the wardrobe. I was going to ask my maid to give it to me, but I forgot.”
Wang crossed over to the wardrobe. “I didn’t know you took any medicine. Why have you not told me this before?”
“It didn’t seem important. I don’t take it often. Only when needed.”
“I have been treating you for weeks. You should have told me.”
Wang’s frown revealed his displeasure. Was she losing his approval, too? Him, her most steadfast champion? Maybe it had been an oversight not to tell him, but she had not thought anything of it.
Then he unstoppered the bottle, smelled the contents, and froze. His gaze snapped to her, and in the brown depths she saw several emotions flash all at once, and none of them good. Alarm, horror, hurt. Devastation.
Oh, the devil take it. What had she done now?
“Whatisthis?”Hisvoice sounded strangled and much too sharp, but there was not a single thing he could do about it. His emotions were in turmoil. Fear and desperation drove him. Not this. Not again.
“Laudanum?”
“And do you know the ingredients of laudanum?”
“Oh!”
He saw the understanding down in her eyes. Esther wasn’t ignorant.
“Oh, indeed. Opium.” God, he sounded like an accuser. When in truth she was a victim. Another victim of this devilish substance.
Why hadn’t it occurred to him she might use it? She had suffered a major accident. Had endured pain without therapy for years. Doctors prescribed laudanum for much less serious conditions.
“But surely it’s not the same,” she explained. “I mean, the doctors prescribed it. It’s a medicine. It’s not as if I’m an opium addict visiting opium dens to get intoxicated.”
“And how do you think most of those addicted to opium started?” At her wide-eyed stare, he continued. “With a dose. In most cases, prescribed by a doctor for a legitimate reason. But then they couldn’t stop.”
“Well, I can stop. I have all but stopped completely. These days I seldom take it.”
He very much doubted it. That’s not how opium consumption worked. “How long have you been taking it?”
“Since my accident. Almost six years ago.”
The answer was like a dagger in his heart. If it had been that long, she was most certainly addicted. He turned away so that she couldn’t see his expression. Couldn’t read in his features how panicked he was.
“In the beginning, I needed it, Kai.” Her placating tone floated from behind him. “It was the only thing that provided relief from unbearable pain. But as the pain decreased, I also started taking less laudanum. I didn’t like the way it made me feel, all drowsy and dazed. I felt like I was fading away, and I feared nothing of myself would remain.”
He had never seen in Esther the symptoms of opium addiction. The constricted pupils, the nervousness, tremors, and erratic behavior. The obsession and vacant gaze of those intoxicated. If she had weaned herself from opium all by herself, while still suffering from pain, she was the strongest woman he had ever known.
“How often do you take it nowadays?”
“Only when needed, when my body is aching and nothing else helps, like today.”
“How often is that?” He turned back to her, pinning her with his stare. He needed precise figures. Frequency. Dosage. Concentration.
“It’s not a regular schedule. Maybe two or three times a month,” she replied, her eyes wide, her shoulders bobbing in a helpless shrug.
