Chapter 56
"How…" I asked, lowering my gaze. "…are they?"
The sun had only just risen, and I had concluded my morning wash. Last night one part of me wanted to run to the palace and see with my own eyes that Nerissea was fine. Another recoiled at the thought of facing either of them. My heart was divided against itself.
Sir Lorcan stood beyond the threshold. "Nerissea remains unconscious, though she is no longer in danger."
A relief passed through me.
"Her Majesty did not rest."
The relief faltered.
He withdrew a golden seal engraved with the royal crest. "She instructed me to deliver this."
"This?"
"Her Majesty said you intend to go to your father. With this, the men at the border will permit your passage."
My heart grew heavy as I accepted the seal.
"What did Nerissea do?"
"She consumed poison. We conveyed her to the Royal Alchemy Guild in time."
Poison.
The word pierced me.
I reflected long and deeply through the night. Nerissea, too, possessed cause for resentment. I had suspected that her account of the late king's violation was but a contrivance to coax my forgiveness. Yet the truth revealed itself in the most dreadful manner, for she had been prepared to relinquish her own life. Such resolve cannot be feigned. Her words had echoed within me without cease, that she would depart and begged of me a measure of mercy. She had elected to place her life in my hands as recompense for her sins.
I pressed my lip together, fingers tightening upon the seal. I cannot forgive her. Yet her death is not what I desire. It would not bring Alethea back.
"I shall take my leave," Sir Lorcan said, inclining his head.
"Wait," I called, forcing the tempest within me into silence. I must think with clarity. Now that truth has surfaced, perhaps he would disclose where the soldiers abandoned my friend. Finding Alethea is my first priority. "Where precisely is the river where Alethea was abandoned?"
"Her Majesty is in the carriage just beyond. You may inquire of her directly."
"No. I do not wish to see her. I am asking you."
"Forgive me, Lady Naevia, but I cannot speak without Her Majesty's consent."
Liar.
He had told me she wept each time she subjected me to humiliation, that her heart still clung to me in love, and yet he claims he cannot disclose this single truth?
"Leave me. I must prepare to depart."
I shut the door and began to pack. I must depart today, at once. I must not dwell upon those two women. Alethea waits for me.
I was midway through my preparations when the door flew open and the Queen entered in a tempest. She caught me and forced me back upon the bed, her weight pressing me down. I possessed neither strength nor will to resist. I simply lay there and met her golden eyes that were bright with tears.
"I am sorry," she said. "I am sorry."
Again and again she repeated it, each plea more fractured than the last.
"Will you truly leave me?"
"It appears you take pleasure in seizing me and pressing me beneath you," I answered faintly.
"Please. Stay with me."
"Should I stay… after months of humiliation?" I asked, my voice lacking strength. "And after you urged me to lie with your servant?"
"I would never have allowed him to touch you. I meant to stop it. Nerissea intervened before I could."
"Should I stay… after your men cast Alethea away?"
"That-"
"Should I stay," I interrupted, "after you were willing to deliver me into Nerissea's arms?"
"I-"
"Should I stay… after you have dragged the Ashcroft name through disgrace?"
"I am sorry," she said quickly, as though fearing I would cut her off again. "I would surrender anything for your forgiveness. Anything. Please, Naevia."
"Nerissea was willing to lay down her life for me. Are you willing to do the same?"
She went utterly still. I did not crave her life any more than I had desired Nerissea's, yet the words had escaped me all the same.
"I cannot," she said at length. "I wish to live a long life… with you."
She leaned close and claimed my lips, and at once my tears broke free. Those were the lips I had yearned for, before I understood the true reason she brought me to the palace, and now they pressed upon mine with aching tenderness.
I ought not to have permitted it. I ought not to have allowed her to raise my gown and settle herself between my thighs. I ought not to have returned her kiss.
Yet I did.
Our tongues entwined and our breaths mingled. She lifted my skirts higher as she left my mouth and descended, her lips trailing across my stomach, drawing soft gasps from me as my chest rose again and again. Her fingers found my swollen bud and stroked it with knowing pressure while her mouth scattered slow kisses across my skin, her tongue circling my navel with wicked patience.
"Yseldra," I called without intending to, my body trembling as pleasure coursed through me like lightning.
She slid a finger into my wet heat and I jolted. It had been so long that I had nearly forgotten the sinful bliss of her touch. I must stop this. I must command her to cease. Yet the word would not form.
"Yseldra," I cried again as her finger began to thrust. "Ngn! Yseldra."
She added two more and my vision blurred as my head fell back.
"More," I breathed, then bit my bottom lip in shock at myself. I had meant to say stop.
Still my traitorous hands rose to cradle her head and draw her upward. Our lips met once more as my fingers found her hardened length and stroked it, extracting broken sighs from her throat.
"Yseldra."
"Stay with me," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. In the next instant she pressed forward and filled me, and I gasped at the stretch and sting. My arms wound about her neck as she began to move, our mouths hovering close, breath shared, sorrow and desire tangled beyond all reason.
My gaze fell upon my half packed bag. It seemed to recede farther from me with every thrust of her hips.
I grasped her shoulders and pressed faintly. "Yseldra, stop."
She only quickened, driving into me with greater force while her lips fastened upon the front of my neck, coaxing my head back. Lightning raced through my veins at each stroke. The wet sounds below betrayed the shameful truth of how fiercely she stirred my body. I did not wish her to cease, yet she must. This must end. I had to leave. Alethea was waiting.
"S-sto," I tried again, though the word dissolved into helpless moans. Her motion forced my back to arch, my sight reeling beneath the pleasure devouring me.
"I do not wish to," she murmured.
For the first time she reached her peak swiftly, her release pulsing deep within me. Then she stilled and collapsed against me. I looked upon her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. Beneath her eyes lay dark shadows.
I shook her lightly. "Where did your men abandon Alethea?" She did not stir, as though neither voice nor touch could summon her from that heavy stillness.
I wrapped my arms about her waist and held her tightly. The longer I held her, the sharper my heart ached, and the more my tears came.
We remained thus for a long while. At last I understood that I must release her.
I eased her from atop me and sat upright, brushing away my tears. I shook her once more. "Tell me where Alethea is."
Again I asked and again I shook her, yet she remained unresponsive. Not getting an answer, I lay beside her and looked at her side profile.
If she truly wished me to remain, why grant me her seal? Had she hoped I might relent, only to discover I still intended departure? Was that why she rushed in after I dismissed Sir Lorcan?
Should I leave now, or wait until she woke so I might reclaim Alethea sooner? Yet what if she delayed on purpose, merely to bind me to her presence?
The more I reflected, the more certain I became that she would withhold the truth to keep me near. In that case, I could not squander another moment.
I rose from the bed and dressed, then gathered my half packed bag and the royal seal and left the chamber. Sir Lorcan stood outside the door. He must have heard everything.
"Your Queen sleeps," I said. "Or has fainted. I cannot tell."
I passed him and descended the stairs, where guests enjoyed their morning meal. Laughter and lively chatter filled the hall. Some stared in wonder at the royal carriage beyond the windows, where guards stood in silent watch. Others whispered that they had glimpsed Yseldra and sighed over her beauty. No ill gossip sounded. Of course not. They adored their Queen. They praised her for the torment she dealt me. They did not know my face. Had they known, they might have harmed me for my family's supposed crime.
"Fortunate girl," a short old woman called. "You must be close to Her Majesty. I saw her enter that room ye left. What's she like?"
"Yes, tell us," another urged.
I turned toward the counter and let their voices fade behind me. "Two crates of dried provisions," I told the innkeeper. "Anything you have will suffice."
While I waited, I looked toward the stairs. Sir Lorcan still stood there, watching me. Sorrow lingered upon his face, which confounded me. Had he not wished me gone to ease his Queen's suffering?
"Your order is ready, miss," the innkeeper announced with bright cheer, his smile deepening the lines of age upon his face. "That will be fourteen silvers."
I set the coins on the counter. "Kindly load them into my carriage and prepare it for departure." I added two coppers for his trouble.
"Certainly," he replied.
I cast one last glance toward the door by Sir Lorcan, then followed the innkeeper out through the rear, my heart heavy yet resolute.
---
I first stopped at a small clinic. I must be certain I do not bear her child. Once, I had longed for such a fate. We had spoken of a future together with glad hearts. That future now lies in ashes.
Though reason tells me it is unlikely that life would quicken within me from a single union, I required certainty that no royal blood would ever take root in my body. Should such a thing occur, I would not know how to face Alethea when my own soul is summoned from this world.
The clinic stood conveniently beside an alchemy shop.
After I swallowed the bitter broth the physician assured me would prevent conception, I entered the alchemy shop and purchased a draught for the same purpose. I drank it there before the attendants, caring little for their stares. I then left to my carriage, climbed to the box seat and guided the horse toward the main road.
When at last I reached the city gates, a sigh escaped me.
Perhaps I ought to have warned Pel. Yet what use is regret now? I am not one who succeeds in saving anything. I can scarcely preserve even my own heart.