Iywan steps forward hastily. “Princess, you’re early.”
My focus sweeps past Iywan to the apprentice girl as she stands with a bowl in hand, like the last time I saw her here. She curtsies to me and offers a smile. “Good day, Your Highness.”
My stare lingers on the bowl. “What is in there?”
Bailey’s lips part, but she purses them again seconds after. She glances sidelong at Iywan, and he turns to me with resignation.
“I didn’t want to worry you, Princess,” he says. “Your mother’s condition remains unchanged, and the healers believe that perhaps some bloodletting would do her good. That it may get her body to some sort of equilibrium where the medicines could perhaps offer her more relief from her symptoms.”
“Bloodletting?” My voice sounds shrill even to my own ears.
“Not by cutting, Your Highness,” says Brona.
Who does she think she is, speaking out of turn? Heat fills my head and I want to throw something at her. I want to throttle her. With a few long strides, I’m standing beside my mother, my fists clenched at my side to keep from assaulting the healer’s apprentice. My mother is paler than ever, and her hair is more silver than blond. Such a drastic change in just one day. It’s too bizarre to make any sense.
I lift her cool hand and brush my thumb over her near-translucent skin, over newly formed wrinkles. In just a few days, she’s aged significantly. I turn her hand over, palm up, and search her arms for signs of lacerations. There are small, inflamed spots instead that appear more like tiny nicks—like they were made with the very tip of a sharp blade. Or like insect bites…
Brina’s words finally make sense in my too-crowded head.Not by cutting, she’d said.
“What—?” I make the mistake of peering into the bowl that Brina is still holding. Black, slimy creatures squirm around inside, bloated from the blood they’ve ingested.
Leeches.
I step away quickly and close my eyes, breathing in through my nose to ward off the nausea.
“It’s a less invasive form of bloodletting,” the apprentice explains.
I glower at her. “Donotspeak to me.” Thank the gods I don’t have the dagger that Tiernan always offers me. I’d love to do some very invasivebloodlettingon Blair’s face right now.
Iywan steps closer to us. “You may leave, Briony. Thank you.”
Brionysilently curtsies to me and walks off, Ren stepping aside for her to exit. I turn back to my mother as the door opens.
“Briony,” I call out, my focus still on my mother’s face. Her footsteps halt. “Send Lady Alys.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
My mother doesn’t stir in the slightest. She doesn’t look like Queen Morwenna anymore. “Iywan, I’d like some privacy.”
“Yes, Princess.”
I sit beside my mother and slide my fingers through her hair. As I pull my hand back, silvery strands come out in clumps as if they were never attached to her scalp. A sob catches in my chest, and I close my eyes, exhaling slowly. Lugda, please give me some more time with her. I’m not ready for a life without her. Nor to be the monarch.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, simply existing with the shell of my mother beside me. The creak of heavy oak draws my attention to the plump figure at the door. Alys strides in, politely nods to Ren and quietly shuts the door behind her before hurrying to my mother’s bedside. She stares past me to my mother and frowns. “I just saw her at dawn…” Her voice trails off, her brows drawn together.
My face crumples. “Did you arrange the bloodletting?”
Alys doesn’t respond but reaches for my mother’s arm and scrutinizes the leech bites. She whispers what I assume is a swear word in her native tongue and shakes her head. “I did not.” She places a hand lightly on my mother’s forehead, her gaze distant. As I’m about to ask her what she’s thinking about, she pulls back her hand with a sharp intake of breath.
My pulse jumps. “What is it? Fever?”
Her face is pinched tight as she stands upright again, idly scratching her cheek. Her focus remains on my mother for a while longer.
“Alys.”
“Apologies, dear one. I am just trying to figure this out. It’s… bizarre. I wish I had answers for you. I don’t know why Iywan is undermining my authority in this matter. Perhaps he doesn’t trust that I have done all that I can and thinks he could command a subordinate to do what I refuse to. Like bloodletting.”
I clench my jaw to keep from saying something blatantly unsavory about thesubordinate. “I don’t want that woman near my mother.”
