The word famished had taken on a whole new meaning for Edward. He found that most of his dreams were now centered around a vision of himself sitting at a table laden with minced meat pies and roast legs of lamb and bowls and bowls of sweet, ripe blackberries.
Oh, how he missed blackberries.
But in spite of the fact that not a drop of poison had crossed his lips in over three days, Edward was not getting better. He could barely stand on his own, let alone walk, and had to be helped to the chamber pot. The coughing had not subsided; if anything, it was getting worse. His handkerchief was more pink than white now. His thoughts were still so cloudy most of the time.
And Dudley was becoming suspicious. “You must eat, Sire,” the duke was admonishing him at this very moment, as Mistress Penne offered him a bowl of chicken broth and Edward pushed it away. At least chicken broth didn’t appeal to him that much, but even the oily brown substance was making his mouth water. Edward was trying very hard not to smell it, lest he be overcome by his hunger and grab the bowl and drain it, poison or not.
“You must at least try, Your Majesty,” Dudley said.
Edward’s teeth clenched for a few seconds before he reined in his temper. “Why must I try?” he replied. “Will this bowl of broth keep me from dying?”
Dudley’s lips thinned. “No, Sire.”
“Then why bother?” Edward raised himself up slightly. “You’ve got your precious document signed now, don’t you? You don’t need me anymore. So if I’m going to die, I’m going to do it on my own terms.”
If this was a political game then he was showing his hand, he realized. He should be more cautious, but he didn’t care. He was tired of feeling helpless.
The duke stared at Edward with narrowed eyes, studying his face. Then in a cold voice he said, “As you wish, Sire,” and slunk away, closing the door behind him.
Mistress Penne, still holding the bowl of broth, clucked her tongue in disapproval.
Edward imagined the nurse’s less-than-slender form stretched on the rack while he dropped poisoned berries into her mouth.
From beside the bed, Pet gave a low growl. Mistress Penne eyed her warily and then exited the room, taking the broth with her.
Edward’s stomach rumbled. He groaned.
Pet whined and licked his hand. He couldn’t quite bring himself to pet her.
He picked up the letter from Jane and read it again.
“My confidant,” he murmured to himself. “My most beloved friend.”
He wondered if he would ever see her again.
That afternoon, his sisters came to visit him, without Dudley or Mistress Penne or even a servant to accompany them.
He couldn’t believe his good luck. He had almost forgotten his sisters in this whole mess, but here they were, Mary and Bess in his room, each holding a box, a present of some kind, both averting their eyes from him as if they couldn’t bear to see how wasted away he had become.
Help had arrived at last, he thought.
His sisters, Mary especially, had connections. Mary’s uncle was the Holy Roman Emperor, who Edward usually counted as a bit of an enemy, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Mary could rally an army for him, a few soldiers, at least. She could oust Lord Dudley, if it came to that. And Bess was tremendously clever. She’d studied books on herbs and medicines, he thought he remembered. Perhaps she could find an antidote for the poison.
“I am glad to see you both,” he breathed, smiling weakly.
“Oh, Eddiekins, we’re so sorry this has happened to you.” Mary put her box on the little table in the corner and moved to sit at the edge of his bed, sending Pet scrambling out of the way of her voluminous skirts.
Mary ignored the dog. She took Edward’s hands in hers and leaned toward him earnestly. Her breath smelled of wine. “I want you to know that I will look after England,” she said, her voice overly loud, like she was making a speech to the masses. “I will restore our country to its former glory. There will be no more of these blasphemous reformational ideas that Father spread in order to justify his own sinful lifestyle. We will root out this E∂ian infestation, starting with that horrible Pack that everyone’s talking about. I’ll see them all burn. We will be free of Father’s impurity. I swear it.”