A few minutes after Racheal stepped out, Micah came along through an opposite lobby.
This was the fifth time she was crossing that path today. It wasn't a mere coincidence.
She had been trying to fight the will to go into Ragaleon's chamber. For some reason she couldn't bring herself to see him.
But right now, she had made up her mind to go in.
She approached the door in small strides; surprisingly, the guards gave way immediately.
She had thought they would turn her out; after all, Selena had given orders that no one was allowed to see the king.
But what she didn't know was that Racheal had scared those two guards out of their wits. They simply bowed in courtesy, then opened the door for her to go in.
She glides in, taking in all that was around her, her steps slowing down as her eyes roam around.
"What an irony."
She began, her voice coarse.
"All my life of being in this castle, and the first time I step foot into your room is when you are on the verge of death."
She really wished he was able to hear the things she said; maybe then he would understand how hurt she was.
Somehow she had found herself thinking of Ragaleon, yearning to see him; she had hoped that maybe his condition wasn't as bad as the grandmaester had described, but she was wrong.
He was far more worse than she had thought.
She strolled towards the bedside, her guided eyes taking in all his features at once.
Just seated on the bed beside his fragile form made her heart twitch with pain.
"I once thought you were immortal."
She admitted, her fingers wrapped around his hand tightly.
"I have been proven wrong."
She added, her lips shaping into a froth smile.
What she would give to hear him yell at her one last time. Now all she could do was hope in her heart that he survived.
Even though the chances of that happening were very slim.
With nothing more to say, she sat there for hours, just watching his chest rise and fall. His eyes remained tightly shut, and his hands were glued to his side.
She was tempted to reach out to touch his face but couldn't after many attempts.
Shutting her eyes closed, she remained still, allowing the breeze from the balcony to coax her to sleep.
Everywhere suddenly becomes clouded with darkness. The room is silent, and the curtains are swaying ghostly along with the tide of the wind.
Not up to a few minutes after she shut her eyes, she felt a firm grip clutch her hand.
Her eyes immediately shot open, her heart hammering, as she looked around in search of any threat.
Her impulsive instinct kicked in, and she jumped to her feet, heart still racing. But just then she sights something, a hand on the bed moving.
Time seemed to still as she trailed her eyes to Ragaleon's face, only to see the white shade of his eyes, his mouth hanging open, foam oozing out.
"Dear gods!
She moves to his side, watching as the foam spills out.
"Somebody…somebody help!
She didn't know what else to do other than to call out for help.
He began to jerk, as if struggling to breathe, his nails digging into the sheets.
"Help! Anyone!
A loud cry tore from her throat as the countenance of her face deepened into that of fear. A few seconds after, a guard rushed in, armed with his sword.
"Summon the grandmaester, now!
She says without tearing her gaze from him.
"Stay with me; don't die."
She says pleadingly while rubbing his chin with her thumb. Miraculously, his breath steadies. His grip on the sheet loosened, but the foam on his lips was still evident.
The door to the chamber opens after a splitting moment, and this time it was the grandmaester that stepped in.
"Step back."
He says as he makes his way towards the bedside.
Micah remained where she was, unmoved by his word.
"Your grace, the poison spreading through his body might lead to a disease breakout, and the disease might be contagious. Please, you need to step away from the king."
The grandmaester explained calmly, and she finally moved away, residing just a few feet away from the bed, her hands crossed on her chest as she watched the grandmaester do his job.
"Is he going to be fine?"
She asks impatiently as she watches the grandmaester from where she stands, her eyes measuring the bottle of medicine he is mixing.
"That, I cannot tell."
He replies candidly before shaking the bottle of medicine to mix up the content inside.
"What do you mean you cannot tell? He is right in front of you; you should have an answer. I need an answer."
"You should be asleep, Your Grace."
The grandmaester replies out of fondness of knowing how to handle situations like this.
The remaining words she had to say, dragged down along her throat.
He was right; she should be asleep.
But here she was, worrying over a man that didn't so much as look at her. Not even when she dressed nice enough for him to at least be flattered.
More than anything she wanted to search for a cogent reason, a reason good enough for her to lose her sleep in an attempt to watch over Ragaleon, but she found none.
"Just tell me if he will be okay."
She says, tapping her foot on her floor lightly, trying to hide her anxiousness.
"We can only wait till morning."
He says, placing the bottle of medicine between Ragaleon's lips. He parts the lips, then raises his chin upward a little, allowing the medicine to glide down his throat easily.
"He is burning with a fever. If the fever doesn't subside before dawn, then I am afraid…"
He paused. It was a hard thing to say, even for him.
She didn't say anything afterwards. She only watched as the grandmaster packed up his things in his toolbox, then rose to his feet to take his leave.
"Should I summon one of the maids to take over the responsibility of watching the king for the night?"
He asked, a bit thoughtful about how stressed Micah was just seated watching over the king.
"No."
She replies without even giving it a thought.
"I will be fine; I can do it."
She added, taking her seat on a chair facing the bed.
Her eyes settled over Ragaleon softly, watching him the way a mother hen will watch over her chicks.
The grandmaester didn't push any further. He simply bowed his head in courtesy, then took his leave.
The chamber became quiet again; only the rhythmic sound of his breath could be heard.
Micah's eyes remained open, sleep eluding her completely. Her eyes never once moved away from his direction.
Sometimes, she found herself dozing off only to wake up, eyes bloodshot, breath ragged.
By the time it was dawn, Micah had slept off on the armchair. It was quite uncomfortable, but that was the whole idea of it in the first place.
Eventually the rays streaming through the windows settled on her chin, then slowly as the sun shifted in the sky, they settled on her eyes.
She was forced to rise from her sleep, a yawn escaping her lips, as she stretched her limbs.
She was halfway through completing her yawn when she realized she had dozed off.
Her body stiffened at once, her eyes slowly darting to the bed.
She felt her heartbeat skip as her gaze lingered on his chest. Instantly she shot up to her feet, then made her way to the bedside, where she leaned in and checked for his pulse.
A wash of relief settles in when she sees that he is still breathing.
He didn't die, but the fever didn't subside either.
It was still early in the morning; she knew the maid could walk in at any moment.
So without so much as making a sound, she took her leave, making her way back to her chamber.
Barely had she stepped foot into her chamber before she found herself pivoting towards the gigantic, already arranged bed.
The bedsheet was clean, the pillows fluffy; how good it would feel to sleep on that masterpiece, not the crappy armchair she was forced to lie on all through the night.
"Just for a while."
She mutters to herself, contemplating whether or not to go back to bed. But with a sudden resolution, she turns away.
Grabbing a book from a table, she moved towards a chair on the balcony, then settled in it, legs crossed.
A few moments later, Micah stepped out of her chamber. Her hair was pinned up in crown braids, an emerald necklace gleaming on her neck, resting over her collarbone.
Her wrist jingled with the sound of bangles as she made her way across the hallways, her hazel brown eyes matching the zeal in her steps.
She wasn't surprised to see the grandmaester rounding up when she got to Ragaleon's chamber. The queen dowager, Selena, was standing beside him, her shadow hovering over the bed.
"How is my son?"
She questioned when she saw he was done checking up on him.
"His condition hasn't improved. It has not worsened either. It is indeed a miracle he lived through the night."
He says while arranging his toolbox but fails to notice the anger that had flared in Selena's eyes.
"Is that all you have to say?"
She asked, suppressing the urge to strangle the old man.
"I will not lie or paint my words just so I will save you the thought of his death. I say things as I see them, Your Grace."
His answer was too rash, but he did speak frankly.
Selene dragged the lump hanging in her throat down, her gaze inadvertently darting to the door, and she caught sight of Micah.
She doesn't acknowledge her; she draws closer and whispers a few words into the grandmaester's ear before taking her leave.
However, Micah's focus seemed to be elsewhere.
"The medicine you administered to the king, I would like to know its exact content."
She says to the grandmaester, and he was stunned by her words.
"Is there a problem, your grace?"
He asked as he packed up his things, arranging various bottles of liquids into the small box he had come with.
Micah didn't deem it appropriate to answer his question. She could already see it, that something was wrong somewhere.
Suddenly she remembers who she had been before now.
Before the crown and the fancy dresses, she was a farmer's daughter, skilled in the act of medicine.
Now, something inside of her…a dreadful voice, kept telling her that the medicine Ragaleon had been forced to take all this while was nothing but slow poison.