"Lucky," Harvey studied the gravity in Camilla's eyes, sensing something unspoken.
His own gaze grew inscrutable as he turned to Rasky.
"Have them leave and prepare what she needs."
Lucky's displeasure was evident, but he held his tongue.
"All of you, out.
Fetch a silver basin with some water."
The medical staff nodded without question and filed out.
Camilla watched them go before turning to Sonia.
"Orange, go with them."
Sonia understood—her mistress didn't trust the others.
"Understood."
With that, the room fell silent, save for the unconscious queen lying on the bed.
Only Camilla, Harvey, and Lucky remained.
"You're being overly cautious," Lucky muttered, his brow furrowed in irritation.
Once the door clicked shut, he finally voiced his frustration.
"Now, will you speak?"
"I suspect," Camilla ignored his dismissive attitude, her gaze lowering to the pale, sickly queen lying on the bed.
