The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,125

else would he come here to mourn every day? I studied him, wondering about some other kind of motivation, but I saw only anguish in his eyes, not deceit.

“Put it away, Andrés. I’d rather not kill you.”

He lowered his sword. “Who are you?” he asked, as if he sensed I was not just his little discarded brother anymore.

“No one you want to know,” I told him. “Who else was there the night you fell ill?”

He thought for a moment, then said that, besides his father, he had also dined with the Chancellor, the Watch Captain, and the court physician.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

My parents shared a marriage chamber, but there was a private suite next to the physician’s office for royal family members when they were ill or in need of care. It was the chamber where my mother had given birth to us all. If my father was truly ill, and maybe even if it was a ruse, that was where he would be.

I walked into the outer chamber, my hair tucked into a cap, and my face bowed into a stack of towels piled high in my arms. A flask dangled from my hand. I shuffled forward with indifference, while my feet burned to run. Even my father, no matter how angry with me, would still be raw with Walther’s loss. A glimmer of doubt was all it would take for him to rescind his order. I’d make him listen if I had to hold a blade to his throat and take him hostage.

“I’m here to sponge the king with a tincture ordered by the physician,” I said in a thick Gastineux brogue, sounding like my aunt Bernette when she was angry. The sleepy nurse sitting in a chair by the door perked up.

“But no one—”

“I know, I know,” I grumbled. I swallowed and forced my words out in an annoyed drawl. “No one ever tells us anything until the last minute. Here I was about ready to go home. Maybe I can talk you into doing this? If I were to—”

“No,” she said, thinking the better of it. “I’ve been stuck here for hours. I could use the break.” She glanced at the guard standing by the open door to the inner chamber. “Need his help?”

“Pfft. Ain’t doing much more than his brow. Don’t need help for that.”

She stood with relief and was out the door before I could say anything else.

The inner chamber was dim. As I passed the guard, I asked him to close the door behind me since my arms were full. “Protocol,” I chided when he hesitated.

The door gently shut behind me, and I faced the large bed on the opposite wall. I almost didn’t see my father in it. He was small and sunken, like he was being eaten up whole by pillows and blankets. His eye sockets were shadowed, and the skin thin over his cheekbones. He was someone I didn’t know. I set the towels and flask on a table and stepped closer. He didn’t stir.

He’s dying.

They are killing him.

My pulse raced. The citadelle had already whispered this truth to me. I’d thought it meant everyone but him, not the man who had always been bluster and power—all that I had ever known.

“Father?”

Nothing.

I dropped to his side and took his hand in mine. It was limp and warm. What was wrong with him? I desperately wanted to see him loud and angry in all the ways that Walther had described him, the way he had always been, but not like this.

“Regheena?”

I startled at his weak voice. His eyes remained closed.

“No, Father. Mother is busy elsewhere. It’s Arabella. You must try to listen to me. It’s important that you order Bryn and Regan home immediately. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He frowned. His eyes slivered open. “Arabella? You’re late. And it’s your wedding day. How will I explain it?”

My throat pinched. A misty fog filled his gaze. “I’m here now, Father.” I lifted his hand to my cheek. “All will be well. I promise.”

“Regheena. Where is my Regheena?” His eyes drifted closed again.

My Regheena. My mother’s name was tender on his lips. Even my name had been spoken with tenderness, a gentle reprimand, not an angry one.

“Father—” But I knew it was no use. He couldn’t issue an order for a drink of water, much less make a demand for Bryn and Regan’s safe return. He had already floated back to his unconscious world. I laid his hand on his chest and pressed my