To Poison a King (Heirs of Isla) by S.G. Prince

Author:S.G. Prince [Prince, S.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Summerhold Publishing
Published: 2023-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

26

I kept my distance for the rest of the princess’s visit. I feared Elias would wish to introduce us, and I would have to curtsy and compliment and fake a smile, but I shouldn’t have worried. Elias seemed as eager to keep us apart as I was to stay away.

I could not, however, avoid trouble forever. On the morning of her scheduled departure, Princess Mora contracted a cold. Though her entourage included several healers from Hillshire, none of these seemed to appease her. She sent for me instead.

“The princess wants me?” I asked the messenger dumbly. We stood in the center of my garden where I had been deadheading rhododendrons. A storm was moving in; the sky was peppered with clouds. When the messenger tried to hand me the princess’s summons, I merely stared. “Does she not have her own—?” I stopped when I caught the man’s eye. As a royal messenger, he was well trained in the art of discretion, but I could hear his straining pulse. Like the footman sent to collect Elias’ eithier, this messenger was noting my hesitations, collecting each reluctance to relay to his associates.

I cooled my expression into bored indifference. “I will deliver the remedy shortly.”

I arrived to the princess’s suite with my bag of simples in hand. The bedchamber smelled of fresh paint, having been redecorated to suit what was known of the lady’s tastes. There were cut flowers rather than potted plants, tea rather than kriva, boughs of greenery above each door. The windows were stripped of their curtains, and the bed was outfitted with a sheer canopy tied back to reveal a mountain of pillows. Among these lay the princess.

“At last,” she said dryly. “You are here.”

Princess Mora rested with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead, her dressing gown buttoned modestly to her neck. Her lady’s maid sat on a stool beside the bed, wringing out a spare towel. I could hear both their heartbeats, yet as I drew closer, I noticed a third, accompanied by a familiar change in my chest. I looked over to discover Elias standing at the room’s opposite corner with a cane in hand, his wheelchair empty at his side. He saw my open shock and gave a small smile. “Miss Freestone.”

I blanched. It was all of it: the king there in the princess’ private suite, the empty wheelchair, the cane. After the welcome dinner, I had given Elias several vials of eithier to be used during the princess’s visit however he saw fit. He knew how to take the formula safely, and I had seen him stand before, but…there was something about his effortless composure, compounded with his presence in a place I had not expected, that had me teetering.

“She works alone?” Mora asked, pulling back my attention. “In Hillshire, our healers work in groups to be sure nothing is missed. How can we be certain your physician knows what is needed?”

“Selene is capable,” Elias said simply.

“Forgive me for saying so, but she does not look it.

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