‘Lyndal!’
Astin.
She would recognise his voice anywhere.
Here, she yelled, then realised it was only in her head.
Her eyes sank shut, and she heard the pounding of boots through the floor. Then he was beside her, lifting her, telling her to hold on. Shewantedto hold on, but she was no more than a rag doll in his arms. He clutched her head to his thudding chest as they fled the bedchamber.
A flurry of servants and maids passed pails of water in the corridor, dousing the flames in the solar. Astin flew by them, down the stairs, and out into the clean air of the fountain court. The sudden change seemed to prompt her lungs to start working again. Coughing resumed in violent fits.
‘That’s it,’ Astin said, sitting her on the ground. He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her.
Her head pounded, and her nose and eyes ran. She struggled to move her arms.
He pressed two fingers to her neck. ‘Your heart is racing.’ When he sat her up, she slumped forwards again. His large palm spanned the width of her collarbone, holding her steady. He lowered his forehead to hers. ‘You’re all right. Cough. Throw up. Cry. Do whatever you need to—just breathe.’
She wanted to lie down, but he kept her firmly upright.
‘I need to wash your eyes out,’ he said, carrying her to the fountain. ‘And get some water into you.’
She nodded, barely, as he placed her on the edge of the fountain. He scooped up water with his spare hand and angled her head, splashing it into her eyes, all while she continued to cough.
‘Blink for me,’ he said. ‘That’s it.’
After cleaning her eyes, he gathered more water and brought it to her mouth. She drank greedily, the cold soothing her aching throat.
‘You gave me a fright,’ he said.
She tipped her head up to look at him. ‘The door was locked.’ Her words were so hoarse she did not recognise her own voice.
He brushed tears from her cheek with his enormous thumb. ‘The defender on duty is going to have no skin left on that back of his by the time I’m through flogging him.’
She rested her head against him, eyes closing. ‘Thank you.’
He did not reply.
Boots sounded beneath the archway, and a few seconds later, the warden appeared in front of them, eyes moving over Lyndal.
‘Everybody all right?’
Astin stood, keeping one hand on her shoulder to ensure she did not fall. ‘She’ll need a physician, sir.’ He paused. ‘The door was locked when I arrived—from the outside.’
Shapur’s jaw ticked. ‘I will send for the physician. Take her to the queen mother’s quarters. Her Majesty is expecting you.’
Lyndal looked up, no longer afraid of him as she had once been. She had gotten to know him since the wedding—as well as one could know a closed-off man. She had managed to win him over one meal at a time.
She rose on unsteady legs, Astin keeping a firm hold of her.
‘Shall I send word to your family?’ the warden asked.
She shook her head. ‘Not unless you want a riot at the gate.’ A violent cough followed.
Astin held her steady.
‘I’m feeling much better,’ she assured him, willing her knees to hold. She took a dizzy step, her heart pounding in her ears.
‘Hold on to me if you want to be spared the embarrassment of being carried,’ Astin said.
