already on her way out of the cell, footsteps echoing, Camellia's breath stuttering.
"Your Highness?" Head Guard Amos called.
"An announcement should be made declaring Princess Camellia having taken ill," I said, watching my sister watch me in return. The courtiers had seen her attack me. Everyone would assume Camellia was killed. Just as Sir Weston and the other lords assumed that previous sisters in the queen's line died off by one another's command. Maybe they had. Or maybe they'd gone like this—eaten up from the inside by their own power when misapplied.
"I'm sorry I didn't do anything decent for you sooner," I said, although the words didn't quite fit on my tongue. They weren't a lie, but Camellia and I weren't close either. Even prior to her Hunger developing, we'd always been kept separate. Probably with the understanding that one of us was unnecessary in the long run.
Camellia groaned and twisted away, and I couldn't tell if it was a physical complaint or just irritation at my pity.
Boots scuffed on the stone, Aric's hands settling on my shoulders. "The physician is on his way with a sedative."
I nodded, counting the sharp knobs of bone that ran down my sister's back, the outline of her ribs. Neglect. She'd been neglected, perhaps even more so than I had. I hadn't done anything to repair that, hadn't reached out to her, too busy soothing my own loneliness in the pages of books.
"What would…what would I do, normally, in this situation?" I asked.
"There's nothing normal about this, princess," Aric whispered.
"I know, but…as sisters? What would a sister do?"
His fingers smoothed over the top of my head. "Would you like to sit with her?"
Camellia's body was starting to strain and stiffen, tension coiling, and I reached back to push Aric toward the door, nodding.
"Yes, I'll stay."
"I'll call for Morgan and Nora. We'll wait for you."
Camellia moaned and rolled as the door shut behind Aric, facing me again, breaths gasping, brow sweating. I took one long look at her, brittle thin and hands bound, goosebumps and sweat and trembles, and then I rose from the floor. Could she really hurt me like this? I didn't think so.
I sat gingerly down at the edge of the bed, and Camellia rolled face down at my side. Her hair was growing thin too, I realized, and thick tangles were rooted at the nape of her neck. My hand hovered over her spine for a moment, surprised by the heat rising off her when she was shivering so fiercely. She moaned once more, and I gave in to the urge, pretending I was Owen trying to calm me, circling my palm over her back.
"I didn't want the crown either," Camellia rasped, words almost entirely muffled against the mattress. Her head turned a little, eyes squeezed shut, back rising and falling unevenly under my hand. "I just didn't want you to have more than me."
There wasn't anything to say to that. She'd tried to humiliate me for years. Tried to take Owen from me. Wanted me dead. Wanted to let the council have its way with Kimmery just for the sake of defeating me. And yet for the first time in months, I wasn't angry with my sister.
"I think I understand now," I murmured. "I wish I had earlier."
Camellia just grunted. I would be angry with her another day. It would come up in mourning anyway, Grandmother's death had taught me that.
I circled my hand over Camellia's bony spine, feeling her shivers tremble up through my wrist, and waited for the doctor to come.
"Bryony?"
I woke with a groan. My back was stiff and aching, my arms numb from holding my head as a pillow. My throat was dry, and my head was pounding. I leaned into the tender fingers at the back of my neck and twisted to find Cosmo bent behind me.
The fire was still burning in the grate, but the room was dark. My legs were numb too, pins and needles pricking in my muscles as I shifted from my seat on the floor.
"It's time to go," Cosmo whispered, one hand reaching up to cup my cheek.
I leaned into his palm, sighing at that sweet rich scent of him I knew perfectly. "No, I should—" My head turned, and my voice died abruptly.
Camellia was on her side, eyes open, and she was empty, peaceful. It was the peace that made it clear. She'd been heaving with breaths for the last hour I'd been awake, gasping and then going still until