Chapter 44
Queen Yseldra had gone to bathe. I was relieved she bore no anger. She left me seated upon the sofa in her study. Dr. Fexmere was tending to me.
I had begun to suspect that my condition stemmed from my continued consumption of those many vials she so often bade me drink. It had become a morning and night ritual, and at times even during the day.
The examination seemed to stretch into eternity, and Her Majesty had returned. Her glorious red hair hung in damp waves about her shoulders, and she was wrapped in a sleek black robe that clung to her form with effortless grace. She lowered herself beside me with a languid ease, her lips curling into a smile of mischief.
"Tell me, is vomiting on me your new filthy little kink?" she said, draping one long leg over the other.
I lowered my gaze. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I did not mean to defile you so."
"It was revolting," she said, almost cheerfully. "But since you seem to enjoy it, I suppose I shall allow it. You have been terribly obedient with my other proclivities."
Dr. Fexmere straightened, walked to Her Majesty, and offered a respectful bow. "Lady Naevia's body is ready, Your Majesty."
I looked at him in confusion. Whatever could that mean?
Her Majesty's lips parted into a radiant smile. Her fingers laced together elegantly, though her palms did not touch. I swear it looked like the smile and gesture of a villainess who has just learned that her most wicked design has met with perfect success.
"Well then. I am off," she announced with cruel cheer.
And just like that, she left.
I pressed my hands together, though they trembled despite my effort. Whatever she was plotting, it involved me.
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"Take this box to the annex," one maid instructed the other, and I instinctively withdrew behind a great marble statue.
"More toys?" the second asked.
"Who can tell what Her Majesty intends? This must be the thirtieth box of toys she has burned. Oh! Have you not heard? The gallows are being prepared. Her Majesty has named the condemned. It is Lady Naevia."
My hands trembled as the words fell upon me. My heart grew still, and a terrible chill crept through me like laughter from some unseen darkness.
"I would hate to be Lady Naevia now," the maid continued.
My back struck the wall, and I slid down until I sat upon the floor. A maid soon found me and bent low, speaking something I could not hear. Her lips moved, but her words reached me only as distant murmurs. Others came after her, one by one, yet I could not hear them clearly. I was lost in fear.
"Naevia."
That voice I heard.
Nerissea.
"Naevia," she whispered again, taking my trembling hands into hers. "You must rise. The corridor is cold."
"Nerissea…"
I wished to tell her I was frightened beyond sense, but my voice failed me. My misfortune was not hers to bear. Would she soon know I was to perish?
"Come," she said. "Let us go to your chamber."
She helped me to my feet, and we walked together. Yet my body could not cease its shaking. I needed to flee the palace, but terror awaited both within and beyond its walls.
When we reached my chamber, Nerissea seated me before the fire. The hearth glowed brightly, yet I felt no warmth.
"Naevia…" she murmured, cupping my cheeks with both hands.
"I am alright," I tried to say, but my lips could not shape even the faintest smile.
"You are not," she replied. "I shall fetch you a cup of soothing tea."
Before she could move, I seized her by the waist and buried my face against her neck. "Do not go," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please… distract me, I beg of you."
"Very well," she said, wrapping her arms around me. "Do you have any books nearby? I could read to you."
But my mind betrayed me. I saw myself walking toward the gallows, my feet heavy, the noose waiting. My whole body shuddered.
"I heard a cruel rumor," Nerissea said. "That Her Majesty has ordered your death. Tell me, did you hear the same?"
I nodded against her shoulder.
"That is not true, Naevia."
But she was wrong. For when the night deepened, I found myself walking toward the square. The gallows stood before me, tall and waiting.