“My mother needs you. She’s ill. You must help her,” she demanded, then pulled on my hand to presumably lead me to her mother.
“I don’t think it would be wise for me to be near her.”
“Xander is wrong. They’re all wrong. The healers don’t know what’s wrong with her, but they’re not like you. You’re magic. You can fix her.”
I bit my lip in worry. Yes, I wanted to aid Xander’s mother, but any help I offered could be misconstrued, and I would pay the price. But I couldn’t stand idly by. Grabbing my small box of herbs from the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, I stood up.
“Okay,” I said, giving her my hand.
Her smile grew so bright with hope, and I prayed to the stars that I could do something to help her mother. Hand in hand, we left my room, and when the guard went to stop me, she put him in his place.
“Don’t stop me, Fagen. I’m on a mission.”
“But Your Highness isn’t allowed to associate with her.” Fagen moved to stop us.
“Obey.” I sent a whisper of compulsion his way. As soon as it hit him, he went back to his post.
We were quite the pair as we made our way through the palace to the main staircase and headed up one floor—a tall shadowy figure being guided by a joyous and pastel-colored child.
Ameline marched right up to her mother’s suite and barged through the double doors. The queen’s room was dark and stuffy, the long cobalt ornamental curtains pulled closed, keeping back the light. Strong incense assailed my nose, causing my eyes to blink involuntarily in protest. The queen looked like a child in the stately bed, propped up by at least six down pillows. Her eyes closed, her head crooked to the side, I was unsure if she breathed.
A strange man in green healer’s robes was sitting on a stool by her side, a bowl and knife in his hands. On the bedside table sat a jar of leeches, most already plump and full from feeding on the queen’s blood. An antiquated practice used against blood curses that could do more harm than good—and all of it wrong.
“Stop!” I called out, rushing to the queen’s side. Pulling the man back by his shoulder, I could see the bowls and bloody towels littering the floor. “How long have you been doing this?” I hissed.
The healer glared at me. His olive skin was exotic, eyes darker still, and in the room it was hard to make out his country of origin. “I’ve been curing blood curses for twenty years, child.”
“And how many of those with blood curses died?” I snapped, quickly calculating the amount of blood on the floor in regards to the queen’s sallowness. He had drained her almost to the point of no return. “And how many have you saved?”
“Many with the blood curse say death is also salvation,” he answered stoically.
“Is this true, Allemar?” King Gerald said as he stepped out of the shadows.
In my rush to stop the healer, I had not taken full stock of the room, nor seen King Gerald sitting in a chair in the corner. From the redness of his eyes, it seemed he had been crying.
“Have you been hurting her all this time?” the king asked.
“I’ve been releasing her.”
“Get out!” I yelled, my voice rising in fury. “Leave here!”
“But His Majesty has called for me to treat—”
“You heard her, Allemar. Leave and don’t return,” King Gerald ordered, snapping his fingers. Guards came in the room and physically removed the eccentric healer while he screamed his allegiance and swore he was only doing his duty.
Once the strange man was gone, I attended the queen. Grabbing her wrist, I ran my finger over the cut and quickly healed the open wound. King Gerald stood by my side, and I heard him curse as he watched my magic at work.
“Please send for liquids, preferably a thick broth,” I said as I gently laid the queen’s hand across her bedspread. The king rushed to the hall to do as I asked.
The healer had been using a rotation of leeches and bloodletting to cure the queen. Lifting the bowl of blood from the floor, I leaned forward and sniffed the contents; a tangy aroma hit my sinuses.
Yes, there was a blood curse on the family, but something else.
“Poison,” I said.
“What?” King Gerald rushed to my side. “How can you be certain?”