Page 73 of Esperance

Jayveh’s smile widened “He does seem to be immune, doesn’t he?”

Amryn was just grateful that Tam was talking with them. She’d still been quite solitary, but she was warming up to her and Jayveh. Her grief at being parted from her sick mother seemed to have drifted from the forefront of her emotions, which Amryn was grateful for. That weight had been painful for both of them.

Tam cracked a smile as she asked, “I wonder what Darrin thinks of her flirting?”

From what Amryn could tell, Darrin didn’t seem to care. He noticed his wife’s dogged pursual of Argent, but there was no sting of jealousy. Only a hum of satisfaction. Like he knew Marriset was his, no matter what she tried to do or who she tried to snare.

The door to the sitting room opened, and servants bustled in with steaming tea and trays of food. This gave a natural break from sewing, and Amryn was happy enough to fold the blanket aside. She was far too distracted to be trusted with a needle today.

Jayveh took pity on Sadia and re-entered the conversation with Marriset while the three of them drank their tea.

Amryn poured her cup and paced toward the tall windows at the back of the room. It felt good to stand, and she wanted a view of the gardens below while she sipped her tea. The hot liquid was a comforting spiral all the way down to her belly, and it relaxed muscles she hadn’t even realized were tensed.

A ripple of discomfort hit her. Not her own—Sadia’s.

She twisted to look at her, and she caught sight of the woman’s slight frown.

A prickle of unease teased the air as Jayveh lowered her cup of tea, her brow furrowed as she placed a hand on her flat belly. “Does anyone—”

Marriset gasped as she doubled over, her teacup and saucer falling to bounce against the rug. Tea splashed everywhere, and Marriset’s eyes flew wide. “Poison,” she rasped, a hand going to her throat.

Fear punched Amryn, and then she felt it. A strange pinch in her stomach. Then a stab.

Tam coughed and dropped her cup of tea, clutching her throat.

The room spun.

Amryn locked her knees, but she still swayed. Her grip on the teacup spasmed when she felt a surge of panic, fear and pain. Things she herself felt, but so did everyone else in the room, which only made them more disarming.

Jayveh staggered to her feet, dropping her teacup as she gripped the arm of her chair, her gaze on the closed door. “Help,” she tried to call out, but her voice was hoarse, and there was no real volume.

Marriset shoved up from her chair but immediately fell to her knees, gagging.

Sadia and Tam similarly collapsed.

Amryn stumbled. Her cup shattered on the stone floor, splashing hot tea across her legs and feet. She barely felt it as another gut-wrenching spear of agony ripped through her middle.

Tears sparked her eyes, and pain seared her throat.

They’d been poisoned. They were dying, and she could feel it.

She felt all of it.

She felt herself falling, and she tried to grab the back of the couch, but she missed it. Her knees cracked against the floor, narrowly missing the shattered remains of her teacup.

There was a muted thud—someone weakly hitting the door. “Help,” Jayveh cracked out.

Amryn crawled around the couch, dragging her body each painful inch. She saw Jayveh grasp the door handle, but it didn’t budge.

Locked. They were locked in.

Jayveh slumped against the door, her cries so strangled they were hardly there anymore.

Amryn tried to crawl to the door, but every clawed movement only made the agony in her gut worse.

Her throat was frayed by flames, and she watched as first Sadia, then Marriset, then Tam curled up on the floor, surrendering to the agony.

Jayveh fell onto her side.