Chapter 22

22

Ella

My heart leapt at the familiar voice coming from the room to my right. I wheeled around, and there she was, wide-eyed and laid up in bed with a busted leg. I instantly forgot my pain and nausea as my heart filled with irrepressible sunlight.

My sister.

I all but fell into Belle's arms, breathing in her familiar scent. A thousand fears and worries collapsed into nothing. We were together again. Pip peeked out of my pocket to give her a friendly sniff, then ducked back in.

"What, by the Fates, are you doing here?" she asked, worry lining her eyes.

"Looking for you, of course."

She'd lost a lot of weight, and her skin had a waxen look, but more troubling still was her leg, which was bound in bandages that emitted a soft blue glow.

Belle grabbed my arm. "Are you insane? It's not safe in the castle. You shouldn't be here."

"I work here now."

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself mixed up in." She pushed the hair out of my face. "And you look terrible. What happened? Did they do this to you?"

I winced. "I did it to myself. It was the only way they'd let me in. But don't worry, it's not contagious." I glanced back at the door, then leaned in and lowered my voice. "Stepmother told me everything. I got a job in the castle so that I could find you. Why didn't you tell me about…about the family business?"

Shock flitted across her face, but then it was gone, replaced with the determination that I knew so well. "I didn't want to put you in danger, Ella. You don't know what you're getting mixed up in. You need to run."

"I'm not leaving. I'm part of it now, and finding you was just the start. Let me help."

She frowned. "You're not going to let me talk you out of this, are you?"

"No. Not now. Not with what I know."

Belle bit her lip and looked around. "Fine. I can't get a message out. Can you?"

I nodded and showed her the bracelets on my wrist.

"Good." She adjusted herself in the bed. "Breaking my leg wasn't all bad. I've learned a lot since I've been cooped up here. The infirmary staff are very chatty, particularly when they think you're sleeping. Do you know about the magic?"

"Like the floating lights in the ballroom and the speaking animals?"

Belle frowned. "I haven't come across many animals here, but yes, those lights and many other things." She rubbed the dressings on her leg. "Even this. It's supposed to heal my leg, but it feels like there's an ant hive under there."

"The priests claim magic was destroyed in the Uprising."

Her gaze darted cautiously toward the door. "There are a lot of things the immortals don't want us to know about, but magic is real—it's just been repressed outside of the castle . It poses a threat to the immortals if wielded by the wrong people."

My mouth grew dry. "Repressed? How?"

"They've stolen it," she whispered. "To get these bandages, they had to send someone to the royal wing of the castle. One of the attendants said something that makes me think they have mages imprisoned there—they didn't say it outright, but it matches a rumor I've heard before about a secret part of the castle that is beyond the royal tower."

"Human mages?"

"There are only human mages, at least in the histories of the Uprising. The immortals can't wield magic."

My eyes widened.

She clasped my hand. "You mustn't share this with anyone else. The immortals have spies everywhere. Do not trust anyone. Anyone . I'm serious. If they even suspected what we knew, we'd be killed on the spot."

A door snicked shut, and a voice echoed down the hall.

"There's not much time," she said quickly. "There's an old woman who lives in a cottage in the woods who can help. Her name is Siggy. I trust her, and you can, too. Follow the red cobble trail into the woods until you hear the waterfall. Go right and follow a game trail until you see a tall?—"

"What are you doing in here?" a middle-aged woman with a head of curly raven hair asked pointedly. "The healing quarter is off-limits to ill patients."

Until I saw a tall what? I stared at Belle, trying to will the rest of her instructions out of her mind, but her face was unreadable. She smiled at the woman in the doorway. "Hello, Doctor LaMazi. This is my sister, Ella. She was just stopping by to check on me."

The woman grabbed me brusquely by the shoulder, escorted me to the door, and shoved me through. "Bothering your sister is the worst thing you could do for her."

My nurse rushed into the hall, his face contorting with surprise, then anger. "I told you to stay put!" When he noticed we were standing by Belle's room, he cursed. "Now, I'll have to quarantine them both to prevent it from spreading to the rest of the cattle."

Doctor LaMazi glared. "What are your symptoms, exactly?"

My mind raced. I couldn't let them quarantine me—too much was at stake. But I couldn't tell them the truth. I glanced down at my feet as I searched for a lie. "One of the dressmakers told me about a special herb that, if eaten, would make my skin beautiful, so I ate it. Turns out, it was tarragon, which I'm allergic to."

The doctor looked at me like I'd sprouted a second head or something. "You foolish girl, you could have poisoned yourself!" The two of them escorted me sternly back to the treatment ward. "While there's no cure for thickheadedness, I have something that will fix the rest of you up."

The gods had a wicked sense of humor. That , or Nurse Lanny was intentionally trying to kill me. Clutching a bucket, I glared at him as he busied himself in the infirmary.

He must have sensed me watching him because he looked over cheerfully. "Feeling better?"

"Worse, actually."

"Oh?" The twinkle in his dark eyes told me everything.

I'd spent the past hour retching my guts out after he'd insisted that I take a precautionary tonic. "We have to be sure you don't have any lingering toxins in you," he'd said. I was certain he was just paying me back for defying his orders.

When it was all over, I set the bucket aside and climbed off the cot, my head wheeling. "Is there a bathroom I can use to freshen up?"

He pointed toward an adjoining room. "Don't stray. I've got my eye on you."

"Don't worry, Lanny, the only place I'm going after this is back to work."

The thought of having to deal with the evil sisters was enough to make me retch again. On the other hand, the look on Bianca's face when I vomited on her shoes had been priceless. Hopefully, she'd be too afraid of the plague to come anywhere near me.

I rinsed my mouth out with a minty tonic and made quick work of washing my face, then looked at myself in the mirror.

I'd seen better days.

My skin was paler than normal, but the doctor had given me a thick salve that had made most of the itchy red spots disappear. My eyes were still a little puffy, and my hair was only moderately disheveled. It could have been far worse.

Maybe there was something to all the teas and ointments and purgatives they'd given me. I combed my fingers through my hair, then smoothed the front of my uniform. "Here we go," I whispered, preparing myself for the hell storm that would certainly unfold once I returned to the western wing.

Lanny held the door open with a wicked smile. "Take care, now!"

He'd definitely given me that tonic so that I'd suffer, but all the gut-wrenching pain and vomiting had been worth it. Not only had I found Belle, but I was on to something big.

Imprisoned mages. A secret wing. An old woman in the woods. My thoughts were racing, and excitement thrummed beneath my skin. My whole world had expanded. I had a purpose now that was bigger than tending to the manor, and?—

I slammed into a solid wall of man as I turned the corner.

No, not a man. The prince.

I stumbled back, but he caught me, gently gripping my upper arms. A tingle ran through me, right down to my center, and I inhaled sharply.

His pupils dilated. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice strained.

Absolutely not. My skin felt like dancing sparks. The furrow in his brow and the intensity of his stormy eyes made me shiver, and the way his thumb traced over my skin…

I glanced down at his hand. His fingers were iron, yet his touch was tender, thrilling and soothing in the same breath. It was scrambling my brain.

"Ella," he said sharply, his voice deep and commanding. "What is wrong with you?"

"Huh?"

Why was he down here, and why in the gods was he talking to me? And touching me?

His jaw clenched. "You were in the infirmary. You weren't hurt, were you?"

How had he known I was there? Moreover, why did he care?

My breathing quickened with my rising panic, and I gently slipped away from his grasp.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He leaned forward protectively, as if he couldn't help himself.

"Nothing," I managed breathlessly. "I just need a little space. You're sucking up all the air."

A subtle frown ghosted his lips before he seemingly regained control. He stepped back, impossibly poised once again. "Better?"

"A little."

"What happened? If Bianca—" His fist knotted.

"It wasn't that," I said quickly. "I ate something that didn't agree with me. But I'm fine now."

An emotion I couldn't quite place flickered across his face. Worry? "You don't look fine. I'll have the royal doctor look at you again."

Although he didn't move, although he was three paces away from me, there was a ferocious possessiveness to his stance that made my stomach do somersaults. My chest felt tighter, and the walls of the corridor pressed in.

"I'm better now, Your Royal Highness. I promise. Doctor LaMazi took excellent care of me." I backed away. "I need to return to work."

I spun and fled in the other direction before he had chance to object. I could feel his gaze on me, though, following me until I turned the corner.

My mind sprinted as fast as my footsteps.

I was a servant. I wasn't supposed to be noticed. I wasn't supposed to be seen. Yet when the prince looked at me, it felt as if he'd never looked anywhere else. It was intense and all-consuming.

There was no doubt left in my mind that I'd caught his eye. But what that meant, I wasn't ready to find out.