Page 90 of A Reign of Embers

And perhaps I should be thinking beyond physical travel. The royal families are more important in their kingdoms than the governors are—or at least they should be. Why couldn’t they?—

Across the lawn, Bianca lifts her arm to wave to another noblewoman—and her stance wobbles. A deep flush washes over her face, ruddying her smooth brown skin.

I set down my glass and start toward her. “Bianca?”

She stumbles with a sway of her legs. I leap forward, too late to catch her before her body hits the ground.

Her head lolls against the grass. When I touch her cheek, I flinch.

She’s burning up. And a strange mottling of tiny red blotches is forming across her face.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Aurelia

The medic holds out her arm to stop me from passing through the doorway. “You’d better not come any closer, Your Imperial Highness.”

What I can see from the threshold is already disturbing enough. It’s the middle of the day, but the beds in this staff dormitory are nearly all occupied with maids, cleaners, and cooks twisting and turning under their sheets. Red dots stand out against their skin like a flood of ruddy freckles.

A lump clogs my throat. “It’s spreading quickly.”

The medic nods, her lips pursing before she speaks again. “Based on the symptoms, it’s a variation of camp pox—usually only seen among soldiers on the march or in siege. It hits hard and fast, but we’ve developed methods of eliminating the contagion once it strikes. Unfortunately, whatever’s hit the palace is resistant to our usual remedy.Some of us have been able to use our gifts to soothe the symptoms, but there are only so many of us…”

They’ve been running themselves ragged. And reducing symptoms doesn’t matter if the person is still just as sick when the medics have exhausted their magic.

“Will they recover on their own?” I have to ask.

“We’re not sure yet. No one has, but the first cases were only yesterday afternoon. Traditional camp pox can last over a week if untreated… and used to leave many of those who recovered with permanent ill effects.”

My throat constricts harder. “Is it ever fatal?”

The medic grimaces. “Only occasionally, usually among those already weakened for other reasons. But we can’t be sure of that either with this stronger strain. Some of the more elderly palace residents have been hit particularly hard: Baron Daveno, Marchionissa Lucrene, Meritta who supervises the kitchen staff…”

Lucrene. She was training alongside Bianca and the rest of us yesterday when the illness first struck.

But if she’s still alive, there’s a chance to save her from what must be Sabrelle’s latest offense.

“How is Vicerine Bianca?” I have to ask. I haven’t been allowed to venture into my friend’s rooms since the medics recognized the illness.

“The fever’s addled her mind, but she’s faring better than some.” The medic’s head droops. “I’m sorry I can’t offer more solutions yet, Your Imperial Highness. We’re applying all our skills to the outbreak.”

I drag in a breath, willing away the impression that I’m feeling a tad dizzy myself. It’s only the stress—it has to be. “I’ll apply my own too and see what I can come up with.”

The medic’s expression softens with a trace of a smile. “I almost forgot your gift. But don’t tire yourself too much, Your Imperial Highness. We need you well.”

I need my court well. More than half of the palace staff has already fallen ill, and an equal proportion of the nobles on top of that.

When I head back down the hall, a soldier I vaguely recognize comes trotting to join me and my guards. I brace myself for more bad news.

“Another seven soldiers are down with the pox,” he reports, dipping his head to both me and Captain Evando, who’s assigned himself as one of my personal protectors now that some of my usual host of guards are sick. “That’s almost a third of us stationed around the palace.”

I grasp onto the one glimmer of hope I can find. “Your ranks haven’t been hit quite as hard.”

Evando exhales roughly. “From what I’ve seen, any of us who’ve caught camp pox in the past hasn’t been affected by this strain so far. Most of us who’ve spent time at the borders or farther abroad have faced it before.”

He glances over at Marc, who’s poised even closer than usual by my shoulder. “I don’t see where you’d have encountered it. Are you sure you should remain on the empress’s guard duty? If you catch it and pass it on?—”

Marc interrupts in a firm tone. “I assure you, I’ve recovered from the pox before. I’m no more a threat to Her Imperial Highness’s well-being than you are.”

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