Page 86 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

Reuben stepped in front of Charis as if he thought she needed protection from Tal, but then Tal snarled in a voice Charis barely recognized, “Get out of my way. The princess has been poisoned.”

Thirty-Two

COMMOTION ERUPTED AROUND Charis, and she sank toward the floor as the room became a brilliant swirl of color and sound. Strong arms wrapped around her and cushioned her fall. She blinked her eyes open—when had they closed?—to find her head in Tal’s lap. His worried face hovered over hers, with Ferris crouched on her other side.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Tal said softly. Then, looking up, he called, “The princess needs a physician. Immediately.”

Charis swallowed against the dryness in her mouth. Her tongue felt too large. Her airway too small. And her eyelids were so heavy. She would let them close for a moment. Just one moment. That’s all she needed.

“Charis, stay with me.” Tal’s voice, low and urgent, breathed against Charis’s ear. “Don’t fall asleep.”

There was something Charis needed to remember. Some connection she needed to make. But her thoughts were spinning, her body ached, and her eyes refused to stay open. With a little shudder, she slid into darkness.

“She’s waking up.” A man’s voice, deep and frail, said quietly from somewhere left of Charis.

“Are you sure? Call for Baust.” A woman’s voice, brittle with worry.

“The physician is on his way,” said a familiar voice from somewhere by Charis’s feet.

Pillows beneath her head. Soft sheets beneath her skin. She was in bed. But that wasn’t right. She was supposed to be at the Everlys’. Ferris needed questioning. Or was it Lady Channing? No, she’d already talked to Lady Channing. Lady Ollen, then?

“Charis, sweet girl, can you open your eyes?” the man said again, and this time Charis knew his voice. But that didn’t make sense either. Why was Father at the Everlys’?

She drew in a deep breath, slowly stretching her body to feel each muscle tighten and release, and then opened her eyes. The room swam in and out of focus for a moment, but then slowly resolved into the cream and gold of her own bedchamber. Father sat next to her, his thin hand slowly stroking her arm. Mother stood next to the bed on Charis’s other side. The dress she’d worn to the Everlys’ was slightly rumpled and her hair was sliding out of its rigid updo.

“What . . .” Charis’s voice cracked on the word, and Mother swiftly reached for a glass from the bedside table.

“Drink this. Slowly, now. You want to give your stomach time to get used to it. Make sure it stays down.” Mother’s voice was firm, but the hand that held the glass shook slightly.

Charis took several swallows, her throat feeling parched. When Mother removed the glass, Charis pushed herself into a sitting position.

“Slowly!” Mother snapped. Charis swayed for an instant before the room righted itself again.

“I’m all right, Mother,” she said as the events of the Everlys’ dinner rushed back. The food she hadn’t touched. The wine she’d drunk. The taster who hadn’t died. And Tal . . . Tal striking a guard to get to Charis because he’d somehow known what was happening.

Charis looked toward the foot of her bed and found Tal standing there, his dark eyes pinned to Charis.

“How did you know?”

“I did what you told me to. I paid attention to gossip and then moved through the house looking for anything that seemed out of place.” There were smudges of exhaustion beneath his eyes and the shadow of a bruise on his face.

“He saw additional kitchen staff enter the building from a side door without the approval of Lord Everly.” Mother smoothed her dress, though the wrinkles refused to leave. It looked as though she’d slept in it in the chair beside Charis’s bed. “Tal worried that something might be amiss and quietly followed them to the kitchen, where he saw them make a plate for you separate from the other plates and then send it out to you.”

“One of the men added something to your soup,” Tal said, his voice thick with anger. “I was going to cause a scene in the kitchen and knock the plate to the floor, but then he said it was just in case you hadn’t already eaten enough, and I knew . . .” He drew in a shaky breath and swallowed.

“Our dear Tal knew it might already be too late,” Father said softly, smiling at Tal as though he were sunshine after a storm. “So he fought his way to your side, yelled for the Everlys’ physician while others were still trying to figure out what was happening, and was able to tell him exactly what the poison looked like. The physician combined that description with your symptoms and figured out you’d been dosed with lisodor. He was able to get the antidote quickly.”

“Lisodor,” Charis said, reaching for the water again as her scratchy throat caught on the word. “The nutty flavor in my wine.”

“Tal saved your life,” Mother said quietly, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Again.”

Charis held Tal’s gaze for a long moment, and then said, “You’re beginning to make that a habit.”

“I’m grateful you’re still alive, Your Highness.”

“Not for lack of trying on someone’s part. And I hardly think we can blame this attempt on King Alaric or his lackey Bartho. You have another enemy.” Mother was back to her crisp, icy self. “What do you remember of yesterday’s meal that might be useful?”

“Yesterday?” Charis leaned past Father to look out the windows. A heavy golden haze spread across the sky, sinking into amber at the horizon. Twilight was here. She’d missed an entire day.

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