Page 96 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

O nly at Piper’s urging did Lilac wait for the castle to be rounded up.

She could barely sit still while her friend tugged a brush through several knots in her hair.

The queen warily handed her the dagger, which Piper dutifully tucked back into her bedside drawer, right next to the cloth-wrapped stake.

Just as Lilac considered changing into one of her sheer nightgowns, a knock came at the door—then it banged open.

It was the barely sobered pair that was Yanna and Isabel, clinging to each other to announce that they’d seen off all the guests who’d made the day trip for Albrecht’s feast. Everyone else being hosted on the first floor was being put to sleep by Ambrosius.

Alarmed with that last bit of news, Lilac left the sisters with Piper and bid them all goodnight. Out in the stairwell, a faint singing—Myrddin’s voice, not terribly off-tune—could be heard floating up from the first floor.

“This is a lullaby for the castle,

Where hearthflame and shadow do tussle

In deep sleep, you’ll take flight,

Through this chaotic night,

Otherwise, may your posterbeds rustle…”

The infirmary was located next to the library at the rear of the northern wing, directly above the armory.

It was a square room lined with beds along the back wall, with privacy curtains separating them into makeshift rooms. Lilac had mostly managed to avoid it throughout her upbringing, save a couple trips here and there for scrapes and bad hangovers.

And the one evening, upon returning from the Le Tallec estate, for the fever that must’ve deluded her into besting their boy at the blades, and shoving a boysenberry tart in his face.

When she dashed around the corner huffing, past the library and into the dim hall, a stern voice shook her.

“Is he worth the trouble?” Madame Kemble stood behind her in the dark, barely visible by the dim light of the torch at the start of the hall near the library door.

She regarded the queen dubiously, balancing a cup of what appeared to be a cup of milk on a thin, biscuit-lined saucer in one hand, and a plate of bread in the other.

“I wanted to check on him,” Lilac said, steadying her breathing. “How is he?”

“Resting.” Kemble looked behind her. “But I think you should know something.”

Her stomach knotted. “What is it?”

Kemble ushered her down the hall to the infirmary door and unlocked it. Lilac half expected to see Rupert there as well, but it was only Garin, she assumed, in the lefthand far corner—the only cot with its privacy curtain drawn.

The nurse leaned against the doorway, glancing at him apprehensively. “His pulse is terribly slow. He’s been in and out of sleep.”

“Oh.” Just as Lilac had expected. “That’s not good, is it?”

“In itself it’s not a concern, but I am worried. He’s vomited all the food he’s eaten today, been retching on an empty stomach, but...” Kemble stepped aside, pointing at a bucket that sat just inside the door.

In that bucket, Lilac quickly discovered, was what looked like a mixture of vomit and black sand.

“Internal bleeding, but you’d never tell by his presentation.

He’s not terribly pale, and is at least somewhat coherent.

He muttered something about toadstools when your father brought him by with the guards.

He hallucinated and is a bit weak, which is typical for toadstools.

Bleeding in the stomach or esophagus isn’t a noted symptom, however.

I’m not able to confirm it because his valet apparently finished the wine,” Kemble seethed, lowering her voice.

“Either way, I must have an answer if news of tonight reaches the emperor. Albrecht is our guest, under our care. There will be questions. ”

“Albrecht is right,” Lilac was quick to say. “I would trust him. Turns out he’s well-researched in Botany.”

“I want him in bed for the day. Hopefully all that retching got rid of whatever was left of it. He will improve once it is out of his bloodstream.” Kemble glanced sidelong at her, then at the closed curtain.

“My next thought was bloodletting just to be sure, but when I brought the scalpel out, he stirred. Started talking in his sleep.”

Lilac’s heart began to race. “What did he say?”

“Mostly nonsense. Several incoherent demands. Fresh air, something to eat. I told him he certainly wouldn’t be taking a stroll through the rose garden until he was better, but the rest I could accommodate.

” Kemble sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“I am glad you’re here, Your Majesty, or I might’ve had to send for you. ”

Throat constricting, Lilac couldn’t peel her gaze from the curtain.

“Sir Albrecht wouldn’t stop asking to see you, and only quieted when I told him I’d see what I could do.” Kemble held out the plates. “You wouldn’t mind bringing these to him, since you two seem well acquainted?”

“Oh.” Lilac accepted them, swallowing her surprise. “Of course.”

Kemble ambled into the room and disappeared into Garin’s curtain, only to return with a wide-mouthed golden vase. “He’s still snoring.” She held the vase out for Lilac to see, but the queen leaned away, stomach already turning. “After feeding him, I was going to cycle out my leeches in the bailey.”

“I’ll make sure he eats.” Lilac stepped into the room as Kemble exited.

“Go on then.” Kemble stopped just outside the doorway. “My leeches aren’t the brightest things, but they never fail me when it comes to finding a vein. Tonight, they couldn’t stay latched long enough.”

“That is so odd.” Lilac turned to nudge the door with her foot, but Kemble lingered.

“I also might have to replace my scalpel,” the nurse commented thoughtfully. “Or sharpen it. After slicing him, I bent to retrieve my cup, when I suddenly could not find the wound. Curious, isn’t it? ”

They exchanged glances; Myrddin’s lament had stopped.

Lilac nodded. “This evening has been altogether strange.”

“A strange evening, indeed. And it won’t be the last, Your Majesty.

” Kemble placed her hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll return soon. Very soon.” Narrowing her eyes, the nurse slipped out.

“ No ,” she could be heard saying before it had clicked shut.

There was a faint meow . “Shoo, leave my patient alone— who let this bloody cat into the keep?”

Sweet Bisousig had found her way into the castle. Hopefully, so did Giles for some warmth and a full meal.

Once the door was shut, Lilac strode across the room and yanked the curtain open.

Garin was curled on the cot, shivering under a thin white blanket despite the the hearth on the eastern wall. His eyes were shut, knees tucked into himself. He looked like he was having a nightmare.

She placed the plates down on the shelved cart at his bedside and sank into the chair Kemble had left. Lilac placed a hand upon his knee. At her touch, he jerked awake. One eye popped groggily open, and upon laying it on her, he shot up in bed.

“Madame Kemble,” he called, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s happening again!”

“ Shhh .” Lilac glanced nervously at the door. “It’s me.”

Garin opened both eyes and squinted, groaning. “Ugh.” He leaned against the pillows stacked two-high. “The room is atrociously bright.”

She turned to slide the curtain shut—and as she did, Garin retched all over the floor.

“Sorry.” He attempted to wipe his mouth on his sleeve. “I suppose this is your clever way of seeking revenge?”

“You think I put those toadstools in your wine?”

“No,” he said, wincing as he attempted to reach the bottom shelf of the cart, which was stacked with rolled clothes. “I mean, making me—making Albrecht—your knight.”

She bent to grab it for him. “I had my blade on your shoulder. You were the one I knighted. Thus, you answer to me.”

“Oh? And by that logic, is this also how proxy marriages work in your kingdom?”

Lilac did her best to ignore his question as she mopped the gritty liquid. She then grabbed another cloth and dipped it into the steaming bucket of water Kemble had left against the bed.

“You don’t have to do this,” Garin said, watching her squeeze the excess liquid out.

Cautiously, she brought the damp corner to Garin’s chin smeared in partially digested blood. He recoiled, hand darting for the cloth.

Lilac was quicker. “I know,” she said, holding it just out of reach.

Reluctantly, he dropped his hand into his lap, somber eyes tracking her fluid movement as she brought the cloth back to his face. “So, did you fight off Kemble to get in? Or did you have Myrddin spell her?”

“I didn’t have to. She was going to find me for you.”

Regret crossed Garin’s face. “What did she say?”

“Just that you were talking in your sleep, asking to see me.”

His jaw tightened beneath her dabbing fingertips. “What happened in that ballroom?”

“You were hallucinating,” Lilac answered too calmly.

He looked at her. Through her. “I will not demand it from you.”

“That’s a promise you’ve broken before.”

“I need to know how I hurt you,” Garin insisted. “Or anyone else.”

There was no gentle way to describe the violent chill that had ripped through her just as Yanna finished helping her change.

Lilac’s body reacted seconds before she’d heard any of the commotion; she’d darted out of the washroom without explanation.

She’d raced down the corridor to the sounds of screams and shouting, and flung open the doors to see Garin surrounded by guards.

He was on his hands and knees, crawling across the dance floor while others helped Rupert off the ground behind him, the bastard son’s temple and mouth bloodied.

Garin had then released an animalistic growl and lunged for her, nearly knocking her over— would have if she didn’t have her thrall strength.

“You left the table after shoving Myrddin aside,” she said, working to keep her voice steady. “They said you’d flipped Rupert on his head because he tried to intervene on your way to the door. I’m not hurt at all.” She removed the cloth, noticing he was clean.