Padding over to his bedside, I fumbled around his nightstand for a candle. “I’m going to try my best. I promise.” My fingers landed on a candle along with a matchbox, just as another foul waft of damp beaches slammed into me. I wrinkled my nose at the smell.
Striking the match, I brought the flame to the wick– only to drop the dwindling match and leap back at the sight of poor Raphael.
His skin glistened with sweat from his forehead to his bare feet, which stuck out beneath his damp white bedsheet. The tips of his fingers were tinged green while they grasped the edge of his blanket.
But his arms bore no black spots – the typical sign of fishpox. Instead, the most obvious marking of his illness were the ghastly limpet-like sores on his face and neck. No. Not sores.Actual limpets. Their shells dug into his skin, dark green veins throbbing where they had latched.
I clapped a hand over my mouth, swallowing my shock. But the more I stared, the more I had to resist the urge to run out of his bedchamber. Something like seaweed appeared to grow between his dark curls. And when his eyes met mine, like two dark wells of pain, he made a choking sound as water spouted from his mouth. As if he was drowning in the middle of his bed.
“This isn’t fishpox,” I breathed, shaking my head.
“What’s wrong with me?” Raphael whimpered. “Father was really worried, Naria. Am I going to die?”
“No.” My answer was firm. Raphael wasn’t going anywhere. Not if I could help it.
Wiping off the shock from my face, I stooped down to his bedside. “Listen to me, Raphael. You need to tell me when and where your symptoms started. Did you eat something unusual, or go anywhere new?” I wasn’t sure if a bad meal could cause sea creatures to sprout from someone’s face, but I had to start somewhere.
Raphael’s brow furrowed while he thought. “I… I’m notsure,” he croaked. “I don’t really remember how this started.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and I wanted so desperately to take his hand. But I had no idea how contagious he was.
“I remember… someone, I think?” he finally said. Perhaps this was who he caught it from? “I was playing on the beach and then—” His weak voice cut off as he winced in pain.
“Oh, Raphael,” I whimpered. Damning the consequences, I took his hand, but then my lips parted as the strangest sensation pulsed through me. It was as if I could feel his sickness, eating him from the inside out. I held his hand tighter while he writhed against his pillow. There was something so familiar about the feeling. I’d felt this before. Not long ago. In Ikelos’s bedchamber when I’d taken the cursed king’s hand.
Cursed.
“This is a curse,” I murmured. But who would do this? And why?
Raphael’s eyes pried open. “What did you say?”
Reluctantly, I released his hand to rise from his bedside. “I’m going to find a way to help you. I promise.” I said, not missing the doubt flickering in his eyes. “But for now, I’m going to find you some medicine to make you more comfortable.” I’d start with sleeping powder. Then Ivy and I could work together on something for his fever, and I knew Marius brewed an excellent anti-nausea draught. “You’re going to feel so much better come this time tomorrow,” I reassured him.
Leaving Raphael to sleep, I blew out the candle and padded back over to where Arenn still lingered by the back wall.
“Is there no saving him?” he whispered, voice low enough to not be heard by the wheezing prince.
“He’ll live. I’ll make sure of it.”
Arenn huffed. “Were we looking at the same prince? Surely you saw his face?” His tone made me shudder. “I give him a week at best.”
“He’ll live,” I said again, louder, as thoughts raced through my mind. Was this the merfolk? That servant, Mae, had mentioned we weren’t supposed to talk about them. Did Cora hate the merfolk just as much as Ikelos hated the fae? Was there some kind of conflict between them, bad enough for the merfolk to curse Raphael?
“I still give him a week.” Arenn shrugged as my scowl deepened. “But tell me, what’s your grand plan to save him, human?”
“Like I said, I’ll make him comfortable first. Then I need to talk to Lukas,” I explained quietly. “If this was the merfolk’s doing, then perhaps they can undo it somehow. I’ll just need to persuade them, and Lukas can help with that.”
Arenn frowned, folding his arms. “Why not just leave this problem with him then?” He leaned back against the wall. “They’re his family, not yours. Let’s just leave now. I’ll take you home.” When he reached up to touch my face, I pushed his hand away.
“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere until he’s healed.” I ignored the simmering rage in his eyes. “Now, you can glamour us again so I can leave this room and start making his medicine, or we can stand here in the dark and argue all night.”
Arenn’s lips curved into a smile. “I’d always rather staywith you, human,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Scoffing, I took a long step back. “Goodnight, Arenn.” Then I marched out of the door before he could stop me.
CHAPTER 21
That night, I didn’t sleep until the three medicines for Prince Raphael had been prepared and tucked into tiny lilac pouches. Despite having just escaped our prison cell, Ivy and Marius didn’t hesitate to postpone their bedtime when I explained the young prince’s condition. And when I returned to share how he’d taken his medicine, neither complained when I collapsed onto Ivy’s bed as the three of us slept until noon.
Or at least Marius and Ivy did. I awoke a few hours after dawn to freshen up in my bedchamber and throw on a clean lavender gown.
