Page 15 of The Shattered King

“Tell your superiors straightaway; the body needs to be removed.” I thought of Lonnie and the night we’d shared a pastry. “And kill every rat on sight, if they’re carrying something like this.”

He nodded dumbly, his eyes still on Torr.

I left the dormitory, leaving the man to grieve. Found the nearest water pump and washed my hands up to my elbows. Washed until I could barely bend my knuckles.

Then I returned to the prince’s suite, not daring to take the time to visit the kitchens. I would have to eat later, else my absence would be noted and, inevitably, punished.

Were I the castle physician—had I been regularly healing Torr—perhaps I could have saved him in time. Not just because I would have known him and detected something off earlier, but because his lumis would have been familiar.

Those willing to seek out healing via the craft sought it from the same healer, time and time again.

This was because the healer was familiar with their lumis, its individual shapes, colors, quirks.

Their administrations could be swift and accurate.

Had I known Prince Renn as a newborn and seen his lumis before it shattered, I would have been having a much easier time piecing it back together.

Then again, I would have only been four years old at the time, and not yet aware I was a crafter at all.

I only knew because Ursa had known. Because of her, I’d discovered it in myself.

Still, were I given a true position here, incidents like Torr’s might be less frequent.

I would much rather spend my days walking the castle corridors, checking up on highborn and lowborn alike, than watching doctors test Prince Renn’s legs, awaiting my turn to thumb through his beautiful but broken lumis.

From the little pieces I had secured, I could imagine what it might have looked like whole.

Truly the most astonishing lumis I’d ever beheld.

I wondered what his siblings’ looked like.

But while they shared a parent, blood had nothing to do with the perception of a lumis.

Even mine and Ursa’s had been radically different.

Sighing, I braided my hair, knowing I didn’t have the time to work through its snags, and headed toward the prince’s suite by the sliver-light of dawn.

I missed my family. More than the headaches, more than the exhaustion, the absence of Brien and Lissel, Dan and Colt, Heath and Pren and Terrence pained me.

Raising them had been a burden I’d never expected, and yet without it I felt like I might float off into the sky, forever reaching for them.

The last eight years of my life seemed to center only on surviving, but surviving was so much easier when we did it together.

Lonnie had posted my letter. I wondered how long it would take for it to reach them, and if I’d be able to receive any response.

Like yesterday, we were back in the Great Hall, though this time the nobles divided by their sex, each lining up to talk to their matching monarch: the men to the king, the women to the queen.

I scanned for Lord Fell, who oversaw Grot near Fount, but did not see him among them. For that, I was glad.

Quite early Prince Renn began to waver, so he stepped aside.

I dowsed into him, repairing what I’d already set, while Whitestone gave him water and more of that tonic and whatever else I missed while inside the prince’s lumis.

He returned to the Great Hall after a quarter hour, mingling and speaking as a prince ought to, impressing the other nobles with his miraculous and tenuous recovery.

The room was too crowded, too noisy, for any to hear the way his lungs caught, or notice the slickness of his palm against his cane.

I lingered nearby after lunch, wishing for a chair to sit in, eyelids heavy, when I caught Prince Adrinn speaking to another man—a general, by his uniform—about the war effort. After the general left, Prince Renn, gripping his posh cane tightly, approached his brother.

“I would like to attend,” he said, his voice soft.

Prince Adrinn turned, as though ensuring his younger brother was addressing him. I rolled my eyes. “Attend what, brother? My birthday celebration is months away, yet.”

Prince Renn’s exhale was the only indication of his long suffering. “The war meeting. I would like to be present.”

“You’ve no real vote in the matter.”

“I might be ill, Adrinn, but don’t pretend like half of your ideas to Father didn’t come from my room.” Prince Renn pressed, “I am aware of my position. I would like to attend. If I better understand what befalls our country, I can make better strategy to compensate.”

A crooked smile tilted the older brother’s mouth.

He planted a hand on his hip and leaned his weight onto one leg.

“All right, I don’t see why not. Will you be bringing your nursemaid?

” He looked over Prince Renn’s shoulder directly at me, freezing me with his icy gaze.

I had not thought myself so visible. I blamed it on the red sash.

Brien on the front lines, wearing so much red ...

“Do not trouble yourself with my attendants.”

“Spoken diplomatically.” Prince Adrinn clapped a hand on Prince Renn’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off-balance. “See you then. Ten o’clock sharp in the war room.”

He sauntered off and was almost immediately met with a lordling from another family.

For a moment, my vision blurred.

I closed my eyes, rubbing my fingertips into my forehead.

I was so very tired. There was no point dowsing into myself to mend exhaustion like this.

In truth, it would only make it worse. The craft had its own kind of fatigue, and it mingled with that of the demands of the castle.

Was Lonnie bathing tonight? I couldn’t remember.

I would have to pass, if she were. I needed as much sleep as I could get.

Perhaps, if the prince was feeling well at dinner, I could beg to be excused early.

If the queen was not present, I might be able to convince him. He was equitable enough, when alone.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Prince Renn watching me, a frown creasing his forehead. But then two young women no older than Lissel approached him with nervous smiles, calling his attention away.

Later, as servants set the tables for the nobility’s dinner, I caught sight of Lonnie and begged her for a stolen morsel to eat; I could not eat with the servants, in case Renn’s health faltered.

Already I had dowsed into him twice since his patronizing talk with his brother.

I was not especially hungry, but I thought eating might keep my energy up. Today had been a struggle.

She could not return until the footmen arrived with wine jugs. She passed by me, sneaking me a slice of bread and a piece of cheese with the same sleight of hand she’d used to pilfer that pastry, and I thanked her, turning my back to the hall to eat as quickly as I could.

It helped, for a time. In truth, I’d thought myself accustomed to this rigorous schedule, but I had not felt so deep a weariness since my parents and Ursa died.

At one point, standing and leaning against the wall during dinner, I dozed off.

Ard elbowed me awake, and the constant headache behind my eyes zipped to the back of my head.

I felt overwarm, likely due to the number of candles lit.

Prince Renn was one of the first to leave, and he, along with Whitestone, met me in the corridor.

I dowsed into him, smoothing the cracks, barely able to keep my arms up.

“Your hands are cold,” Prince Renn remarked. Whitestone distracted him with tonic and an ear trumpet pressed above his sternum.

We returned to his suite. I allotted myself the audacity to pour myself a drink from the pitcher in the salon, something I’d never done before. If anyone noticed, they didn’t remark upon it.

I felt truly terrible.

“Your Highness!” Whitestone called suddenly, and I whirled around, nearly dropping the cup. The prince must have fallen, or started to; Whitestone had caught him and, with Sten and Ard running to his side, lowered him to the sofa. Prince Renn pressed a hand to his head.

The physician looked up and barked at me, “Well? Make yourself useful!”

“It’s vertigo,” Prince Renn answered as I shuffled over. He cursed beneath his breath. “Will I never be free of this?”

I dowsed quickly, the magic draining me further, and pulled away within seconds. “It’s passed.”

“But there is more work to be done,” the prince insisted, twisting to look at me. He’d lost some of the color in his cheeks. “There is always more to be done.”

I thought I might cry at the words.

“Get him abed,” Whitestone said, and Ard and Sten helped him to his bedchamber, the prince insisting he walk, though he leaned heavily on his guards. Once changed and in bed, he summoned me.

I wiped my forehead. I was sweating. Why was I sweating?

“Healer,” he called, and I quickened my pace to his bed. “I need you to work through the night.”

For a moment, words failed me, my lips no more useful than two dying fish smacking together. “Please, Your Highness,” I said, voice quiet though I did not mean it to be, “I am dreadfully tired. I would like to retire. I can resume your healing in the morning.”

He shook his head. “I need you now. I need this sorted out, before it can get worse. I must be in the war room tomorrow morning. For myself, for my father, and for my country.”

I swallowed against a tight throat. “I can report at the first break of light. That will give us hours before the appointment. Please.”

He sat up straighter. “I should not have to explain myself to you, and yet here I am. You do not understand how important this is. How long I’ve waited to be included in these matters, to be seen as a human being and a man to these people.

How utterly difficult my existence has been.

I understand you cannot fathom it, but try to comprehend—”

“Can’t fathom it?” I snapped, a burst of angry energy zipping up my ribs. “What I cannot fathom is the utter privilege in which you demand these things from myself and others. Seen as human? I’ve been treated as less than a dog since arriving here!”

His eyes widened. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner. I am a future king of Cansere!”

“If all the others die, of course you will be.” I could not stop my tongue from its lashing. My heartbeat pounded in my skull. “If you don’t want to be viewed as a petulant child, then stop acting like one.”

His teeth snapped together. “I will have you thrown in the dungeon.”

“Go ahead,” I countered. “You need me, Renn. And yes, you’re right—I don’t know what it’s like to be you, to be so completely shattered and shunted away as you have been.

But you are a damned fool to assume that neither I nor anyone else hasn’t faced adversity.

You are not the only person who suffers hard things! ”

My tongue felt too thick in my mouth. I sucked in air and found it hard to do so. Took a stumbling step away from the bed.

I realized I was not merely tired, but ill. Very ill. My thoughts swept back to Torr. Just beneath my skin, I felt the faintest tickle of death. I hadn’t sensed it in myself. Death had become such an intimate part of me, I hadn’t even noticed.

“Healer?” the prince’s voice asked. He sounded far away.

I fisted my hands, trying to dowse into myself, but the magic sparked and snuffed in my mind. Too little, too weak, too late.

I blinked, seeing two, then three of Prince Renn. Three of his bed, three of his windows. The room began to spin.

“Nym?” he asked, and I didn’t even get the opportunity to appreciate the sound of my name on his lips.

The floor rushed up at me, and all the world went black.