“Such a martyr,” Kaeja muttered, too quietly for Lady Tala to hear. Silla gritted her teeth and turned to Tala.
“Is there no grain in Jarl Hakon’s stores?”
“I’m told there’s none to spare.”
“But surely there is!” Silla chewed on her cheek. “Each meal served to me has had an abundance of breads.” As Tala shook her head, Silla made a mental note to ask Hild and Eilif if they had insight into the kitchen stores.
In the third hour, a short woman entered the great hall. Dimples grooved her gaunt cheeks, and she twisted her auburn braid between fingers as she looked wide-eyed around the room. And as the woman’s eyes landed on Eisa Volsik, they somehow widened further.
Then they rolled back in her head.
She collapsed to the floor with a thud that echoed off the high ceilings. For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then Silla was on her feet, racing down the dais and falling to her knees beside the woman. A guard’s hand landed on her shoulder, voices urging her to hang back.
“It could be a ruse,” grumbled Ingvarr, trying to pull her to her feet.
But the woman was now blinking up at Silla with fear and confusion in her eyes.
“You’re safe,” said Silla, shaking Ingvarr off. “What is your name?”
“Ástrid,” the woman managed, slightly slurred.
“You’re in Ashfall Fortress, Ástrid. You’ve had a dizzy spell. Come to the dais. A drink shall restore you.”
Silla called for her guards to assist Ástrid and was glad when theydid so unquestioningly. And despite a disapproving look sent Silla’s way, Lady Tala vacated her chair, allowing the guards to settle Ástrid into it.
Silla snatched her untouched cup of róa and offered it to Ástrid.
Ástrid sipped from the cup, her gaze growing more focused. When at last she handed the cup back to Silla, her cheeks were flushed a bright shade of pink. “My thanks, Your Highness.” Ástrid squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve made a fool of myself, haven’t I?”
Silla pressed her lips together. “Not one bit. I’ve been caught apologizing to a rock. I imagine that’s far worse than a simple fainting spell.”
Ástrid’s eyes flew open, an incredulous laugh bursting from her. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
But Ástrid’s smile faltered, the vivid pink of her cheeks now spreading down her neck. As she fluttered a hand to her throat, concern slithered in Silla’s belly.
“Perhaps some water—”
With a sudden gasp, Ástrid’s spine arched off the chair and her eyes rolled back in her head. Before Silla could understand what was happening, Ástrid convulsed.
Panic broke out in the hall. Hands grasped Silla’s arms, and she was yanked away from Ástrid’s spasming body. Screams echoed off the vaulted ceiling, chairs and goblets knocked aside as her ladies-in-waiting fled the dais.
“Wait!” Silla cried, struggling. “Wait—”
Guards rushed from all corners of the room, and Silla tried to glimpse what, precisely was happening around Ástrid’s prone form, but it was impossible to see.
“It’s not safe,” came Runný’s voice, low in Silla’s ear. “We must get you away from here.”
“What do you mean? She’s only fainted!”
Runný sent her a harsh look as she hauled Silla toward the exit. “I do not think she fainted. I believe that woman was poisoned after drinking fromyourcup.”
Runný’s words landed with jarring impact, and Silla grew pliant at once. As her queensquard fell around her, Silla’s mind spun, landing on a single image—that cup of róa that she’d ignored all morning.
Had it beenpoisoned?
Silla was whisked back to her bedchambers in terse silence, her mind hazed with disbelief. Surely it was all a mistake. Surely they’d overreacted and would soon learn that Ástrid had only fainted again.
