A few hoursbefore dawn found Alys wandering the halls of the royal apartments again. Roused from a deep sleep, Sean could hear her distant weeping. With a start, he threw himself out of the chair he had been dozing on and tossed open the doors from his chamber so hard that one of them actually unhinged. He was in the corridor, marching towards the sounds of her weeping.
She was disheveled and hysterical, attempting to tell a crimson-clad guard the purpose of her visit. Sean marched upon her and she cried out the moment she saw him. But he knew, whatever she said, could not be beneficial to anyone so he slapped a massive hand over her mouth and physically carried her back down the hall in the direction that she had come. He didn’t want her anywhere near the royal apartments. She had already cost him much. He would not let her cost him everything.
Halfway down a servant’s stair, he set her down. Her face was red and damp from weeping.
“I told you never to come back here again,” he growled. “It was not a request but a command. I told you that if I saw you again that I would.…”
“Sir Sean, please,” Alys sobbed. “I came to find you. My sister is very ill.”
He forgot his anger. “What is wrong?”
Alys shook her head. “I do not know. I cannot wake her. She breathes harsh and labored, as if she is dying. I am afraid that she is!”
He didn’t ask her any more. Grasping her arm, far more gently this time, he led the way back to the St. James apartment. The corridors were quiet and still at this hours with oil lamps burning every so often so as not to create total darkness. He could feel royal soldiers around him, guarding the different wings that they passed through, but he ignored them. By the time they reached the apartment, his panic had blossomed while Alys’ had calmed. They made an odd combination.
There were two St. James soldiers in the hall protecting the door. Alys waved them aside as the little maid unbolted the panel from the inside. Once inside, the little puppy jumped all over his feet and it was an effort not to step on the beast. The room was warm and dimly lit. Avoiding the dog, Sean went straight to the bower.
It was nearly pitch dark in the room, but he could hear Sheridan’s breathing the moment he entered the door. It sounded like a death rattle.
“Bring some light,” he commanded quietly as he went for the bed. He could barely see her in the darkness and he felt for a pulse. It was fast and weak, and his heart sank. “How long has she been like this?”
Alys hovered behind him as the maid brought forth a fish oil lamp. Immediately, they could see how pale Sheridan was.
“A few hours,” Alys said. “The physic gave her some medicine and she fell asleep, and now I cannot wake her.”
Sean put both hands on her face, enormous appendages that swallowed up Sheridan’s entire head. His fingers were in his hair, his flesh against her. Stabs of longing, of angst, filled his chest as he touched her.
“Sheridan,” he whispered. “Sheridan, can you hear me?”
She was limp, like a corpse. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Wake up, angel. Hear my voice and awaken.”
“She won’t.” The panic returned to Alys’ tone. “What shall we do?”
Sean didn’t hesitate. “Send for Gilby,” he snapped softly. “Tell your guards in the hall to go for him; he is near the barracks. Tell them to hurry.”
Both Alys and the maid fled. Alone in the room, with a small lamp casting an eerie white light on Sheridan’s features, Sean gazed at her with a tremendous amount of sorrow. His thumbs continued to stroke her cheeks, his forehead finally coming to rest on her own. It was a helpless gesture. Never in his life had he felt so powerless, listening to her labor to breathe, terrified that she was indeed going to die right in front of him. The thought nearly brought tears to his eyes, and it was a shocking realization.
Pulling her limp body up against him, he cradled her against his massive chest, rocking her gently with the inborn instinct of all human beings. It was a deliciously painful gesture, her fragile warmth against his strength.
He was still holding her when Gilby came. The old man had to practically pry her out of Sean’s arms. Sean had known Gilby for many years and trusted the man’s discretion. He knew that no word of his actions or behavior would reach the ears of others. Sean, Alys and the little maid watched with baited breath as the old physic examined Sheridan. He listened to her chest,checked her pulse, checked her eyes. He even looked in her ears. Finally, he shook his head.
“Nothing to worry over,” he said. “She is simply reacting to the medicaments I gave her for her head sickness. She is very sensitive to something I gave her, though I am not sure what.”
Sean let out a sigh as if his entire body was deflating of air. “Then she will wake from this without incident?”
“She will. But better to watch her to make sure that she remembers to breathe. The potion’s property is strong and can, in fact, put one to sleep forever if one isn’t careful.”
Sean lifted an eyebrow. “If it is so strong, why did you give it to her to cure her head sickness?”
“I didn’t give it to her to cure her head sickness. I gave it to her so that she would sleep until it passed.”
Sean couldn’t decide where he was more angry or more relieved. He settled for relieved. “You could have at least told us so that we wouldn’t panic when we could not wake her.”
Gilby grunted. He packed up his leather satchel and headed for the door. “I shall be by in a few hours to see how she fares,” he said. “Until then, someone should stay away with her. If she stops breathing, pinch her. She’ll resume quickly enough.”
The physic wandered out into the antechamber, pulling his cloak tightly about him in anticipation of the chill of the corridor. Leaving a relieved Alys to watch over Sheridan, Sean followed.
“I’ll send a guard to escort you back,” he said.
