Lucivar had been informed the moment they crossed the city boundary. No one needed to tell him the urgency; it was written in every hurried footstep and whispered exchange between guards. The Royal Clinic, usually quiet, was now a hive of movement.
The nurses surrounded Damien and Eryk could see the flicker of fear in their eyes. They stripped away his clothes and found something heavier to cover him with.
Eryk stood uselessly at the foot of the bed, hands clenched at his sides.
The clinic doors swung open, and Lucivar breezed in. He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "What happened?"
Eryk straightened. "We were searching for the queen. Still no sign of her. The king was heading back to the city when he—" Eryk gestured helplessly toward the bed, "—just collapsed. No warning. One moment he was fine, the next he wasn't breathing right."
Lucivar's gaze flicked to Damien. "And you're sure nothing touched him?"
