content and—"
Grandmother's words halted, her body seizing and trembling. Hector pushed past me, and together he and Vincent pulled my grandmother upright as she began to release wracking coughs, her breaths stolen on strangled gasps. I stood and stepped back, my hands clutching at the waist of my gown as I held my own breath and waited for my grandmother to recover.
Gradually, the fit released her, Grandmother growling weakly as her Chosen moved her slowly back into the pillows. Vincent brought a glass of water to her lips, and my grandmother glared at him as he smiled back patiently. There was something else too, she was annoyed with him, but mostly with her own body, and there was a softness flowing between the two of them, between Hector as well. These were the Chosen who loved my grandmother, really loved her as my Chosen loved me.
"Grandmother, what happened?" I murmured.
"Took ill after a dinner party," Grandmother muttered with a scowl.
I pursed my lips. "Poison?"
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps?! Isn't that… Shouldn't you know?"
Grandmother sighed and sank into her pillows, eyes closing for a moment, and I wondered if she wasn't planning on answering me. "I've been poisoned before. Long time ago. It wasn't so successful then. To be quite frank, Bryony, I am old—"
"But—"
"And when I returned from the north, I…I dismissed some of my Chosen. Most of them." Hector's hands slid over the sheets and clasped around my grandmother's. "I didn't have much Hunger left in me anyway, and not all of them made very good company," my grandmother said primly.
"And without the Hunger…" I trailed off, freezing at the implication. "What exactly is wrong though? Why aren't the doctors helping?"
"Her lungs are taking on water. They don't know why, only that it's coming on quickly and nothing they or the mages can think of to do seems to be working," Hector said.
"They think my time is up," Grandmother growled, but her voice squeaked with effort. "And perhaps it is."
"Vi," Vincent chided softly.
"You could have my magic! I have plenty," I said, reaching out.
My grandmother only twitched away from me. "The magic isn't working, Bryony. What Hunger I have left is doing what it can for me, but it will run out."
She ignored her Chosen, her eyes fixing to mine, and I sat down at her side again, the weight of truth landing heavily in my bones. This was more than just a plot against me. This was age and ill health and the nature of our magic.
"And the poison?" I asked. She couldn't be just…dying, surely?
"We couldn't prove it, but Head Guard Amos launched an investigation that turned up next to nothing. A footman who conveniently vanished from the castle in the night, no doubt paid off and sent packing on a ship out of the country," Vincent said softly.
I remembered my conversation with my grandmother before she left the north when I said I was uncomfortable with the mandatory nature of the Chosen. If my grandmother was failing now because she didn't have those men here… "Grandmother, you didn't dismiss your Chosen because of—"
"I dismissed them because I wanted to," my grandmother snapped. "Bryony, listen to me. This is important. It is easy enough to wrest control from your mother. Too easy. She is soft-hearted, I think. I should've pushed her more, but I…thought I had the kingdom in hand. She is inclined to you as her successor, but she will only agree with you on changes to Kimmery as long as you are the voice in her ear."
I nodded, I had guessed as much already. "She has Camellia and the council there now, but I'll find my way," I said.
Grandmother frowned, and her hand covered mine gently. "The council has to be changed."
"Of course," I began.
"No, listen. All your convincing will go to waste when they talk her out of your decision in the next moment. The council has to be changed, and so does Kimmery's ruler." My breath caught, and I started to shake my head. "You are a little young, I know, and Camellia will not make it easy for you, nor the council. But your mother doesn't have the heart to fix the kingdom, let alone to see the problems. She will pass on the crown as I did if she can be convinced it will give her fewer burdens, and she won't stand in your way as I did with her."
I searched for words, but none made their way to my tongue. This conversation felt so