The Fever Breaks
He traced it with his fingertips. The slick liquid left an ugly stain across her milky-white skin. The thin cloth, soaked through with blood, clung to her lukewarm flesh like seaweed.
He stared down at the sight with dazed eyes, then pressed his ear to her bloodstained chest. A faint pulse answered him.
Only then did his frozen mind begin to work again.
He scooped her up, sheets and all, and burst through the bedroom door.
A few maids passing through the corridor stiffened at the sight of him. Barcas roared at the top of his lungs.
"Fetch a healer! Now!"
Her insides burned as if she had swallowed boiling water. The searing heat seemed to scorch her stomach raw. She thrashed, panting out hot breath — and then, just as suddenly, the cold set in, as though shards of ice had been driven into her bones.
Fumbling, she reached out and dragged the blanket toward herself. Someone must have found the sight pitiful, for a pair of arms — hot as heated iron — closed tightly around her.
A moan of relief escaped her at the warmth that sank into her blood. Then the fire in her belly flared up again.
She tossed and turned, drenched in sweat. Sensing her distress, the arm wrapped around her back began to pull away.
She clung to it with every scrap of strength she had left.
Keep holding me. Don't leave me alone.
Whether he understood the words that only hummed inside her mouth or not, the scorching heat enfolded her once more.
It hurt. And yet, somehow, she felt safe.
Like a chick burrowing into a hen's feathers, she curled herself into that broad embrace.
Before long the pain stabbing through her stomach faded, and a tomb-like stillness settled over her. It was as if she were floating in lukewarm water.
How long she drifted in that strangely peaceful sensation, she could not say. Gradually her hazy consciousness grew clear.
Thalia managed to lift her stiff eyelids. A shaft of light piercing the canopy stabbed at her retinas. A whimper escaped her at the sting — and hurried footsteps approached at once.
"My lady! Are you with us again?"
Thalia turned her head and found her nanny wearing a tearful face. She frowned.
The nanny seized her hand and sniffled hard.
"Do you have any idea how black my insides went with worry? Why does this keep happening, over and over…"
Thalia's expression clouded with confusion. She had no idea what had happened, or how.
She pressed one hand to her throbbing forehead — and the nanny, still dripping fat tears, suddenly shot to her feet.
"Look at me, standing here like a fool! This is no time for that. Wait just a moment — I'll fetch the healer right away."
She stomped out of the bedroom at a run.
Once the room fell quiet, her mind finally began to function again. She took a slow look around the modest chamber.
It took several seconds before she recalled arriving at some city in the eastern duchy. Everything after that was a blur — as if she had dreamed with her eyes open.
"You've finally come to."
She was still picking through the fragments of memory when the healer burst into the room in a fluster.
Breathing hard, the woman hurried to the bedside.
"How are you feeling, Your Highness?"
Thalia looked up at her in bewilderment and parted her parched lips. A rasp scraped out of her cracked throat.
At the sound, the healer immediately poured water into a cup and held it out.
With effort, Thalia pushed herself upright and leaned against the headboard, moistening her mouth with the lukewarm water. The liquid sliding down her throat unsettled her stomach unpleasantly.
She coughed lightly at the strange discomfort, and the healer whisked the cup away at once.
"Don't drink too much at once. Your stomach has been damaged, so you'll need to be careful even with water for a while."
Thalia's brow furrowed.
"Damaged?"
"You don't remember?"
When she shook her head, the healer explained in a calm voice.
"Your Highness lost consciousness not long after arriving at this castle. You've been ill for nearly two full days since."
Thalia's eyes went wide — then her face darkened as the memory flashed back.
She had been resting in bed when a sudden, violent pain seized her. The agony tearing through her stomach left her no thought of calling for help; she could only groan. Then, without warning, a hot liquid surged up her throat. She had vomited it up — and almost in the same instant, everything had gone black.
Still cradling her throbbing solar plexus, Thalia fixed the healer with a look as cold as ice.
"Did someone poison me?"
"No, Your Highness. It does not appear to have been poison."
The healer denied it hastily.
"It seems the bleeding was a side effect of the medicine you've been taking these past few weeks."
"A side effect?"
Thalia regarded her with open disbelief.
The woman continued her explanation with composed patience.
"The tonic Your Highness has been taking contained an ingredient that can damage the stomach. Under ordinary circumstances, it is an excellent restorative — it replenishes vitality and strengthens the body. But when a patient whose stomach is already fragile takes it for a prolonged period, there is a risk of internal bleeding."
Thalia let out a scornful laugh.
"So you're saying they simply fed me the wrong medicine by accident?"
The healer's face stiffened faintly.
She exhaled a heavy sigh.
"That is my assessment, yes."
"…"
"I examined the medicine Your Highness consumed with great care. It contained only ingredients meant to restore vitality. However, the healer who prepared it appears not to have known that Your Highness's stomach was as fragile as a child's."
Thalia narrowed her eyes with suspicion.
"You seem oddly eager to defend that woman."
"I am merely reporting what I have found. I would not wish Your Highness to exhaust herself with unnecessary suspicion."
The woman answered evenly, then straightened her back. With her characteristic calm, she took a small teapot from the shelf.
"In any case, that healer will face appropriate consequences. And from now on, it seems I will be taking full charge of Your Highness's care."
She poured a measured amount of clear liquid into a small teacup and offered it.
Thalia looked down at it with wary eyes. The woman gave a wry smile as she explained.
"Honey tea steeped with a small amount of herbs to aid the stomach's recovery. Take it little by little, and your insides should settle."
Thalia accepted it reluctantly. She had no desire to bring it to her lips.
She stared at the lukewarm tea for a long moment, then asked in a tightly locked voice,
"The medicine I've been taking all this time — you're certain it wasn't poison?"
"I cannot completely rule out the possibility that other ingredients were mixed in along the way… but if that had been the case, traces of toxin would have remained in your body. Your Highness showed no symptoms of poisoning."
"Then…"
Barcas is all right, isn't he?
She nearly asked it aloud, then closed her mouth. She had no confidence she could invent a plausible excuse for how he had come to take medicine prescribed for her.
Thalia wet her dry lips. All this time, Barcas had been taking small doses of that same medicine as well.
Is it really true he suffered no side effects at all?
Unable to shake the anxiety, she blurted out restlessly,
"That medicine — if a healthy person takes it, there's really no problem?"
The healer gave her a puzzled look, then nodded.
"That is correct. In ordinary cases, it would actually aid recovery."
Relief washed over Thalia, and her shoulders sagged. Then, all at once, she felt a wave of self-disgust and let out a hollow laugh.
It was absurd — that she felt more relieved he had not been poisoned than that no one had been trying to kill her.
She dragged a weak hand down her face and parted her cracked lips.
"Barcas…"
Where is he now?
How did he react when he saw me collapse?
She swallowed the questions that had risen to her throat and lay back down on the bed.