Lady Death's Diary: Chapter 19 (Patreon)

By the time we arrived back at the palace, my sides ached from exertion. Xander had been forced to grab ahold of me several times to prevent me from tripping over my own feet, as my eagerness to see Emilia unfortunately outstripped my capability to run. Eventually, he hooked his arm through mine so as to keep me from planting headfirst onto the cobblestones. Despite our urgency, I was intensely aware of the warmth of his bare arm against mine.

We entered the castle grounds just as Loren exited the stables, his riding boots muddy from a recent ride, and our paths crossed in the front courtyard. His smile dissipated upon catching sight of my companion.

“Vitrula!” Loren’s frown became downright thunderous as he neared, and it took me a moment to realize he was glaring at my legs. In our rush to leave, I’d neglected to change out of my boxing outfit. “I know you don’t care about fashion. But as my betrothed, I at least expect you to model proper attire for the rest of court.”

His first sentence to me in over a week, and he criticized my pants? His audacity rankled, especially when he hadn’t bothered coming to visit me once during my vigil over Emilia.

“I’ll change later,” I said curtly, “but I’m needed elsewhere right now.”

He crossed his arms. “I saw you entering through the front gate. If you have time to gallivant around town with Brant,” his glower shifted to Xander, “then you can spare a few moments to talk with your fiancé.”

I was too impatient to go see Emilia to deal with Loren’s petty jealousy. Even if, and I blushed at the thought, his jealousy was now somewhat warranted. Had it not been for Henric’s interruption, I would have kissed Xander. Not that I hadn’t rejoiced upon hearing the news that Emilia had recovered, but a small part of me regretted that the messenger hadn’t arrived a few seconds later. Such a desire was wrong, of course, both morally and pragmatically. I was still engaged to Loren. The Rhys family motto was “Loyalty Beyond Measure.” Kissing Xander wouldn’t have just broken that oath—it would have jeopardized my entire survival.

Not that our engagement had ever prevented Loren from falling in love with Letty, but his poor behavior shouldn’t set the standard for mine.

Regardless, I still didn’t have time to deal with Loren’s petty condemnation of my outfit. I tried to continue past him to the castle entrance but Loren sidestepped into my path.

I looked at him incredulously. “Emilia just woke up,” I said. “I need to go see her.”

“Your maid?” he asked. “Never mind—she can wait. Where were you? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Your Highness, I would be glad to remain here and explain,” said Xander. “For now, please let Lady Vitrula pass.”

Loren’s lip curled, and he perused Xander from head to foot disdainfully. His normally handsome visage twisted into a derisive sneer. “Your presence is no longer required, Brant,” he said. “This is between me and future bride.”

Xander ignored the dismissal. His face remained carefully shielded as he met the Prince’s stare. His voice was low enough not to be overheard by others in the courtyard as he replied, “Stop this, Loren.”

My head snapped towards Xander at the use of his brother’s first name. Xander’s casual address took me aback, as did his flinty tone. It made sense the brothers had some sort of exposure to one another, given King Eldin’s commitment to his illicit relationship with Delphine. Still, judging how loathing practically radiated from Loren, I doubted their relationship was fondly fraternal.

Loren’s left eye twitched, his snarl opening up to expose the gap between his front teeth. “You can’t order—” he began heatedly.

But Xander was already walking around him, a firm hand on my elbow steering me through the castle gate. Loren remained where we left him, his hands balled into fists and his lips compressed in a pale line.

I could apologize later. For now, Emilia was waiting.

*****

“Really, my lady, I’m quite all right.” Emilia smiled feebly as I refilled her teacup for the third time. She wrinkled her nose at the foul-smelling steam rising from Delphine’s brew, but reluctantly took a sip at my stern look. Her meek acquiescence, more than anything, proved to me how poorly she must be feeling.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke,” I said. “I wanted to be there.”

Emilia laughed. Given her recent convalescence, it emerged more a hoarse croak than her usual giggle. “You were there. According to my father, you didn’t leave my side for a whole week.” She shook her head, then stopped moving with a wince. “Triad bless, it’s hard to believe that much time has passed. I’d swear your birthday was just yesterday.”

I motioned for her to take another sip of tea. She heaved an exaggerated sigh but complied. “I’m just glad that you’re awake. I didn’t know if—” I choked up, unable to continue.

Emilia smiled in what I assumed she thought was a reassuring manner, but her stretched lips only emphasized the new gauntness of her cheeks. The past week had not been kind to my lady’s maid. “I’m fine now,” she told me. “Perfectly fine.”

I gave a soggy chuckle, trying to remain composed despite my rioting emotions. Joy, that Emilia had finally woken. Guilt, because the poison had been intended for me. Sorrow, because I knew what needed to be done to ensure this situation never repeated. I took a deep breath to fortify myself.

“There’s something I must tell you,” I said. “Someone hurt you in effort to get to me. Your life should have never been threatened.” I couldn’t meet Emilia’s eyes, focusing instead the rose carvings on her headboard. “Don’t worry; I’ve arranged a generous severance package. You’ll never need to work again, if you don’t wish. I’ll also gladly recommend you to some of the other ladies at court. You’ve admired Lady Gwendolyn’s sense of style many times in the past; I’m sure that she would be delighted to take you on.”

Emilia’s teacup slammed onto its saucer with a sharp clink. “My lady.” Her exaggerated enunciation made the title sound like an insult than an honorific. “Have I not served you loyally these past three years?”

I should have expected her to resist. Emilia enjoyed the status that came from serving the future queen, and Lady Gwendolyn was only a baroness no matter how well attired. “You must understand,” I said. “Poison was—”

“Added to your birthday breakfast,” Emilia finished. She smirked at my stunned blink, taking it as confirmation. “I figured as much. It’s not as if anyone would have bothered poisoning my packed luncheon from home.”

“Then you also realize why it’s in your best interest to seek employment elsewhere. I cannot guarantee your safety.” Didn’t she comprehend that she risked death by being around me? Most people (myself excluded) didn’t recover.

Emilia’s chin jutted stubbornly. “As if I would relinquish my position,” she sniffed. “I hardly think anyone else qualified to fill it. Has the information I brought you ever been wrong?”

“You’ve been invaluable,” I conceded. “But I’ll make do. I can’t keep you safe should you stay. Emilia, don’t be foolish.”

“With respect, my lady, you’re the one acting a toad-lick fool,” she gritted out. “Given the recent attempt on your life, common sense dictates that I remain to keep an eye out for you.”

My mouth opened to retort but no words came out. Her willingness to put herself at risk for my sake made no sense.

“But why?” I finally asked.

Emilia sighed and set her cup down on the nightstand. “May I be blunt, my lady?”

I nodded.

“Your fashion sense is abysmally drab. You refuse to let me to style your hair. You complain about all the wonderful parties you get to attend, and you’re pricklier than a wet cat when I wake you up each morning.” Her voice softened, “But you’re kind. You’re too generous for your own good, and you never act as though you’re better than me because you have a title. Perhaps I speak beyond my station, but I flatter myself to think that, were you not my mistress, you’d most likely be my friend.”

My eyes stung, and I blinked hard to regain control of my emotions. Emilia didn’t seem willing to budge on her decision to stay. And after her speech, I wasn’t sure that I still wanted her to go.

“You’re certain that you won’t regret this?” I asked.

“Never, my lady.” She squeezed my hand, then smiled. “All I ask in return is that you lend me your ruby earbobs, the next time I go out to town.”

I laughed at the glibness of her proposed bargain. Though, knowing Emilia, she was most likely half serious. Either way, the earrings were hers to keep.

“Take the next few days off,” I told her. “Give your body time to recuperate. Should your decision remain unchanged, you’re welcome to return to your position.”

Her chin drooped low against her chest as she nodded. Realizing she needed to rest, I stood to leave. I paused before I closed the door behind me.

“Emilia?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“I think we would be friends as well.”

*****

Sometime during my conversation with Emilia, Delphine had joined Xander outside in the hallway. I found them still lingering, deep in conversation and whispering so as not to be heard through the door. Upon seeing me exit Emilia’s bedroom, Delphine motioned him quiet with a wave of her hand. The tips of her fingers were stained green from crushing up herbs for the tonic that Emilia had so detested. Most court mages would consider the wellbeing of a servant beneath them, but I suspected that Delphine would’ve helped Emilia even if she hadn’t been my personal maid.

“Your visit seems to have put your mind at ease,” said Delphine. She reached out and brushed aside a rebellious strand of hair that had escaped my bun. “You look as though you’ve been relieved of a great burden.”

I rolled back my shoulders as if to further free myself from my shroud of worry. Emilia’s recovery, and her unexpected willingness to remain in my employ, had made me feel lighter—to the point that it felt as if a physical pressure had been removed from my back. My muscles ached from my boxing lesson with Xander, but even the soreness somehow felt liberating, as if a reminder of what I might be capable of. I smiled at Delphine, weary but also . . . not happy, exactly. Content. It wasn’t an emotion to which I was accustomed.

It was also fleeting, gone once I noticed Delphine’s and Xander’s identical masks of concern. I looked back and forth between them—both returned my stare with expectant looks of their own.

“Emilia has decided to remain as my lady’s maid,” I informed them. “After she fully heals, of course.”

Their expressions didn’t change. Silence hung heavy between us, and I arched a brow quizzically at Xander. I was accustomed to the way Delphine brandished muteness during our lessons; her lack of response often forced me to fill the quiet with my own thoughts and arrive at the correct conclusion independently. She claimed it helped me to learn. But I hadn’t anticipated similar treatment from Xander, especially when I was unsure what unspoken question they even wanted me to answer.

The lull stretched on, and a sense of unease replaced my prior relief. When Delphine spoke up, she sounded inexplicably disappointed.

“Let’s sojourn to my study,” she said. “The three of us have much to discuss.”

My heart fluttered to a halt and I barely resisted the impulse to shudder. Could Xander have told his mother about our almost-kiss? What if Delphine thought I was attempting to seduce her son despite my engagement? What if she refused to continue teaching me? Maybe the washerwoman from earlier had been right. Maybe I was a lightskirt. After all, I hadn’t once thought of Loren during the entire time at the boxing gym. How audacious was I to hope that my fiancé wouldn’t cast me aside for Letty if I myself struggled to remain loyal?

My mind whirled frantically as a thousand worst case scenarios enacted themselves out. I considered myself to be resilient. Dying multiple times tended to leave you inured to most of life’s lesser frustrations. But if Delphine rejected me her student, I’d be devasted. Learning magic was an essential part of my plan to stay alive, true, but I also genuinely respected the sorceress. The last thing I wanted to do, other than die, was disappoint her.

Xander claimed his customary armchair when we entered his mother’s study, leaving me stranded on one of the less comfortable options. Delphine sat behind her desk, placing her hands atop the tea kettle she kept next to her writing supplies. Before long, peppermint-scented steam rose from the spout and the gurgle of boiling water filled the room’s awkward silence. She poured three cups of tea, pushing two towards the edge of her desk for Xander and I to reach.

“I had hoped that you would choose to confide in me by yourself,” she said, peering at me from over the rim of her teacup. She took a small sip to ascertain the tea’s temperature, then a longer one. “An idle wish, considering how dearly you cling to your secrets. Recent events mean that I no longer have the luxury of patience. Do you recall, Tru, the question I once asked you? About your reason for becoming my apprentice?”

My hands shook. I set my cup and saucer back down on her desk to stop them from clattering. The conversation she referred to had been months ago. Nevertheless, I recalled it in vivid detail due to having transcribed it in my journal. It had, after all, happened on the same day as the fire that almost killed me, and I was meticulous in recording even my unsuccessful brushes with death.

“I told you that I needed to protect myself,” I said.

She nodded solemnly. “I thought you were being overly cautious despite your rank. Paranoid, even. Then the fire happened, supposedly sparked by a candle despite your possession of a glowstone. After that, I cast every protective ward I knew to make sure your chambers remained secure.”

“I noticed.” I’d been touched by her efforts to keep me safe.

“Around the time of the fire, several dissidents at Court allied themselves with foreign leaders in an effort to overthrow King Eldin for a more . . . pliable monarch. They were minor lords and few in number, but dangerous nonetheless. Thanks to efforts of my son,” she beamed proudly at Xander, “their plot was foiled.”

I gaped at him. “You spied on Ambassador Leonidas?”

He inclined his head. “Among others. Most the threat came from Fengal’s representatives—they’re losing their war with Anterdon, and desperately need Verdan’s military support.”

“The trade embargo,” I realized.

“It wasn’t Emperor Irax’s first resort,” said Xander, “since it hurts Fengal’s economy as well.”

Delphine continued, “Six months ago, the conspirators at Bellcrest were taken into custody. I assumed they had targeted you in order to spur the northern provinces into rebellion and that, given their arrest, that your life was no longer in jeopardy.”

My breathing grew shallow with anxiety. Now that I understand this meeting’s intent, it was all I could do not to bolt from my stupidly delicate chair and take off running towards the stable. I’d saddle Dragon and ride until I reached Kothe. Anything to avoid having this conversation. I wanted to laugh at my own idiocy—as if Delphine would care about a flirtatious encounter when she herself was the King’s mistress.

“Then,” continued Delphine, “your maid is poisoned. Not only that, but you insist I lie regarding the nature of her malady.”

I floundered for a plausible excuse, my mouth opening and shutting several times. Xander put his hand on my shoulder.

“I told her what you said earlier,” he confessed. “That Emilia ate a breakfast prepared for you.”

I shook off his hand. I was too angry at his betrayal to feel hurt, though that pain would undoubtedly surface in time. In compliance with Rhys family tradition and my own habit, I resorted to sarcasm to cover up wounded emotions. “I see. I’m delighted to realize how deeply you value keeping my confidences.” I stood and curtsied to him in the formal manner that one would greet a stranger. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Brant.”

I started towards the door, ignoring his protests.

“Sit down,” Delphine commanded sharply. “Pulga.” She snapped her fingers, causing the door’s deadbolt to twist itself shut. My indignant scowl was met with a cool look. “Xander was concerned for your safety, nor was he aware that you desired this knowledge kept secret. All of which begs one question, Tru. How long have you been aware that someone wanted you dead?”