Page 32 of Wicked Thieves
“How long have you been staying with the Dobrins?”
Castian seemed to contemplate it before he said, “Quite some time, possibly over a fortnight. Yes, that seems about right. I lost track of time for a period after I arrived. I wasn’t exactly at my best what with this ailment I have.” They reached a door at the end of the hall and he opened it beforeturning to face her. “Would you care to join me for tea perhaps?”
Anelize hesitated. She did not know why she was talking to the son of the man who was responsible for taking her sister away and countless deaths, but she was wise enough to know that he was also not at fault for King Amaranth’s wrongdoings. Lest he also believe them to be true.
His gentle smile appeared to tell her otherwise.
“Very well.” She nodded, and Castian’s smile brightened.
He pushed the door open and strode into his room. The wallpaper and oak floors were nearly the same as the room where the orphans were staying, only there were at least dozens of books on the floor around the legs of the bed across the room. Atop the dresser, bookshelves, and the table beside his bed.
If there was one thing the prince appeared to enjoy, it was books. The curtains were tied back to reveal the falling snow painting the glass as they fell across the darkened sky. There were candles lit across the room, casting an inviting glow around them.
“Apologies for the mess.” Castian cleared away his books on the round table. “I didn’t account for a visitor today. The only one who truly comes to my room is Aeric, and he’s an even bigger mess than I am.”
The last thing she wanted was to imagine what Aeric’s room looked like, or her standing in it, alone with him. She mentally cursed herself for even thinking about it now.
Stepping into the room, she looked to the small vials on the table and picked one up. Pulling the cork free, she took a whiff of it and grimaced.
“Zara gave me those. She told me they would help with anypains I’ve been feeling. Though, in truth, they taste quite awful.” Castian chuckled as he placed a pot over the small grate in the fireplace. His movements careful and diligent. He swiped two cups from one of the shelves with the least number of books and brought them over to the table.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what illness was it that you were diagnosed with having?” When he glanced at her curiously, she explained further, “I was an apothecary in my father’s shop before…all this. I may be able to concoct a better suited tonic for you. Please refrain from telling Zara I said that.”
Castian grinned before it wilted into quiet contemplation. “I wish I could tell you. Not even I know, and I am the one most affected by it. The royal physician hardly seemed to know either. All I know is that I began feeling unusually fatigued, then it became difficult to eat properly without being overcome with sick, and one day…I felt the strength completely leave me. My hands trembled and my legs were nearly useless. At times, Aeric needed to support me. Other times, carry me. Near the end of my stay in Castle Rime, he practically had to haul me around like a doll. I was all but useless.”
Anelize frowned at the mention of his symptoms. She had heard of chronic pains and other strange illnesses that were difficult to cure, but never one such as this. Indeed, as she watched him closely, she could see that he used his left hand more than his right. His fingers trembling slightly as he set their cups down on the table. The shadows of fatigue under his eyes growing the longer he spent walking about the room. When he finally sank into his chair across from her, she caught the way he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“May I?” she asked, reaching for his right hand. Castianhesitated, clearly taken aback by her boldness. She could almost hear her father chastising her for it. “If you would grant your permission, of course.”
Castian eventually nodded and placed his hand upon hers. His palm was soft, unmarred by years of labor or scars from conjuring. She assessed his mobility, found that he could not feel his last three fingers where she prodded. Numbed down to the knuckles. Castian explained it was the same for his left leg, though it was nowhere near as bad as his hand. The pain in his bones coming and going at the most unexpected times.
“I can come up with a series of treatments, remedies to take with your tea to at least mask the foul taste of the herbs, if you wish. We can see which will give the best results then.”
“I would appreciate that greatly. Anything to help me regain my strength so that I may once again feel like myself.”
She contemplated her next words before she eventually said, “I understand that you are ill, but what I do not fully comprehend is why you are here, Prince Castian.”
“When I was younger, Aeric was assigned as the head of my personal guard. Apart from being captain, his duties also fell with protecting me since I am—was—to be the next in line to the throne. Until I started growing ill. The council having advised my father against seeing me in the case I would pass on my illness to him. Slowly but surely, I was left with no choice but to lock myself away in my chambers. With only the physician left to administer his treatments, and Aeric.”
When the kettle began to whistle, Castian stood and retrieved the pot. Placing it atop a cloth on the table he poured them each a cup of steaming hot water, steeping the red dried berries and tea leaves long enough that a blood red color beganto seep out. The taste pleasantly sweet when she brought the cup up to her lips.
“One day, it was I who begged him to take my life,” Castian continued as he stared into the cup, watching the leaves swirl within. Anelize stilled, his confession taking her by surprise. “It is quite difficult being in so much pain, living in a body that does not feel like your own anymore. When it refuses to obey you. So I asked him, and he chastised me for a full day, even made me cry. If I was anything like my father, I would have had him cast out of the castle for making his prince cry as though he were a child.”
Anelize fought the smile that threatened to tug on her lips, despite the sad confession he’d just made to her. Why he’d told her of all people was beyond her. However, in no way did she take it for granted. Voicing such terrible things was incredibly difficult. She would know.
“It was then that Aeric revealed to me that he suspected it was not an illness I had contracted, but that I was being poisoned. At first, I’d refused to believe such a thing. Until I remembered how truly devious my father’s council can be that I thought better on it. Instead, we came up with a plan to get me out of Castle Rime. Fabricated a story of how I disappeared into the night and simply ceased to exist. I am convinced that the passing of the blame to the Vedrans was all the council’s idea. They do so enjoy stirring trouble where they can.”
Anelize was silent for a long time, weighing his words.
“Anya, about your sister…” She tensed as she took another sip before slowly setting the cup down. “I heard how this all came to pass from Aeric. I am sorry for it. All of it. I know that Aeric also feels terrible about what happened to you two, especially after you saved his life.”
“He…mentioned us?”
Castian paused, as if realizing he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
“What I mean to say is that while your sister has been taken, I’m sure he’ll do everything that he can to ensure nothing truly terrible happens to her to the best of his abilities.”
“That is kind of you, Prince Castian. And while your optimism is something to be envied, I do not believe I can grant myself the luxury of hope at a time like this. This world hasn’t exactly been kind to the likes of us to afford it. Nor do I know if I can do so without knowing if she is alive…”
