Viper's Nest by Rachel Ford

Author:Rachel Ford [Ford, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

She spoke little for the remainder of their trip. Her thoughts seemed to be far away; and so were his. He wondered at what she’d told him. He wondered what hope, if any, he could find in those words. That her and Faustus’ marriage was troubled he had always known, or at least guessed.

But he had always thought her unquestioningly committed to it. Now, he wasn’t sure. Was it just the weight of these last few days speaking? Or…?

He couldn’t indulge his imagination too much on that score. She was still trying to restore her marriage with Faustus. Even if she was not, she was still carrying his child; that alone would be cause for some women to stay in unhappy marriages.

No, he couldn’t speculate on what might happen, because the truth was almost certainly: nothing. She would be sad; she would forgive Faustus; and matters would continue as they had since he’d arrived, in cycles of happiness and sorrow.

Finally, they reached the kitchens. He stepped out first to offer her his hand, and she took it.

Trygve frowned at the sight of her emerging into the full sunlight. He didn’t like her look. Her skin was too pale again, her face too drawn. “It will wait until tomorrow, Empress,” he urged.

“I promised I would go,” she reminded him.

His frown deepened. He knew better than to push further. She’d made up her mind to be out of the palace. But his mind roiled with objections. He didn’t fault her conscientiousness, nor could he even begrudge her urge to be active. But she was not well. And she was empress. Her wellbeing certainly should come before such a trifling thing.

“Anyway,” she said, “tomorrow Faustus returns. I wouldn’t have time.” As she spoke, though, she paused to draw breath, a flicker of a grimace crossing her face.

Trygve felt the familiar, disquieting sense return. He tried again. “Empress, please. Return to the carriage. I can make your apologies. They will understand.”

She smiled at him. “You’re very kind, Trygve. But Tiberius says they’re just normal pregnancy pains. I can’t –” She drew up suddenly, clutching at her side and gasping.

“Empress!”

“Trygve,” she managed. “Trygve, I –” He’d reached her side, and she grabbed his arm, squeezing it until her fingers went white. “Trygve, what’s happening? The pain –”

She was choking out her words now between cries. Her face had gone gray, and her eyes dilated – with fear or agony, he could not tell.

“I’m taking you back,” he decided. He didn’t wait for protests, and this time she didn’t offer any. As carefully as he could, he scooped her up. She was shuddering in his arms and felt all the smaller and frailer for it. He practically raced for the carriage.

“I don’t understand,” she was saying. “They said everything was alright.”

With a word to the driver, he set her inside the carriage, and got in after her. He felt the horses jolt into action. Then he turned his attention back on her. “Cassia,” he implored, “tell me what’s happening.

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