The frame squeaks with disuse as it opens. I lean forward to poke my head out. “What in the Gods’ names are you doing out here!”
Her bare heels hang off the several-inches-wide ledge trimming this story of the castle. She’s clinging to a long piece of fabric, seemingly looped up on some part of the castle’s architecture above the window.
My mouth drops open. “Is that…a bed sheet?”
“Shut up and help me in, will you!” she snaps as she shakily crouches, clinging to the sheet for dear life.
I grab her waist, and together we inch her closer to the open windowpane until we’ve pulled her inside. When she straightens, her breath comes rapidly.
She runs her hands down her head to flatten her thick, dark hair. “Did you take the vial Lady Bethany gave you?”
Blinking at her clipped tone, I answer, “No? It’s in the bathroom.”
“Show it to me.”
I lead her to the bathroom, pluck the vial from the counter, and present it to her. “See? I was told not to consume it.”
“By who?”
“Cyrus.”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “You saw him?”
“No, I received a letter from him.”
She blows out an annoyed breath with a roll of her eyes before she takes the vial from my hands and rips the cork off.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, catching a glimpse of my profile in the mirror before redirecting my attention to her.
“What you should have done,” she scolds, then pours it down the sink drain. The red liquid‘glub glub glubs’as it drains, and she turns on the faucet to wash it away.
“What was it?” I ask behind her.
She looks up at me in the mirror. Forcing my eyes to follow.
She rinses out the vial as she mutters, “I don’t know. But there was an odd scent to it that made me suspicious in a way I can’t explain. Keep the vial, though, and if she asks—you took it.”
Finally, she corks it and turns to me, handing me the vial.
I place it on the bathroom counter. “You were supposed to meet me last night, but you didn’t come. How much wine did you drink at the ball?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, growling, “You’re on this again?”
“I think they laced the wine. Weeks ago I saw opium poppies in theback of the gardens. They’re known for their healing properties, but also hallucinations and heavy sedation.”
Her stare is hard, but she lightly cocks her head to the side.
“Which would explain how we both slept in,” I continue more quietly, flexing my hand in front of her. “And how else would this not hurt me when I was burned so severely?”
“It was a third-degree-burn; you might have charred your nerves. Or, they used dragonblood.”
“Perhaps, but…” I swallow back my hesitation. “Does dragonblood cause intense dreams? Hallucinations?”
Her expression flattens, and she takes a small step back. “Hallucinations like…what?”
I shake my head, not wanting to give my fear words. Not wanting them to slip past my lips. Instead I ask, “Why did you want to meet with me?”
She darts her attention to my hands, then back to my face. “Why did you sacrifice yourself for me in the trials?”
