How to court a storm | 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭

(28)

As I rouse from the depths of unconsciousness, a surge of disorientation washes over me like a wave crashing against the shore. The familiar surroundings of my bedroom come into focus, and I find myself sitting up, my skin flushed with heat and perspiration. My mind feels foggy, as if I've been lost in a dream from which I'm just beginning to awaken.

I cast my gaze around the room, searching for something to anchor me in this disorienting moment. The soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains offers a sense of reassurance, a gentle reminder of the world outside my fevered haze. But the details of how I arrived here remain elusive, trapped in the recesses of my muddled memories.

What in the world happened...

A flicker of recollection stirs within me, drawing me back to the tea I shared with Lord Kaiser and Lord Alister. Fragments of conversation and fleeting emotions dance on the periphery of my thoughts. I strain to remember, to connect the dots that lead me to this moment of confusion and unease.

The lingering warmth of the teacup against my fingertips, the voices of the grand duke and the prince echoing in the background-I grasp at these moments, piecing together a semblance of understanding. But the gaps in my memory persist, leaving me stranded in a limbo of uncertainty.

Suddenly, the doors open.

Six comes in, carrying a bowl and a towel.

She drops it the moment her eyes land on mine.

"M-my lady!" She gasps. I frown at her reaction, even more so when she nearly stumbles on her attempt to reach me. Normally, I would find discomfort at people touching me so intimately, but I don't scold or reprimand her as her arms wrap around me. "You're alright! Thank goodness."

I'm certain I feel her shaking, and to calm her, I pat her on the back. She must think I'm asking her to move away, because she pulls back. Her mask is in place, but she lifts a hand to remove it, looking me with those bejewelled eyes with sadness. "As much as I'm thankful for your worry, it's merely a fever. Hardly such a cause for worry."

She frowns. "Fever?" She shakes her head. "My lady, do you not remember what happened?"

I try to remember, stilling when a mirage of memories enter my mind.

Hot.

As I lie in my bed, consumed by the grip of a terrible fever, pain courses through my body, leaving me drenched in a cold, clammy sweat. The sheets beneath me cling uncomfortably to my skin, and the world around me becomes a haze of blurred shapes and muted sounds, my senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of illness.

In the midst of my weakened state, I occasionally hear glimpses of Six's voice, a familiar presence that offers a semblance of comfort in my fragile condition. Her soothing words, though indistinct, offer a lifeline of solace in this labyrinth of suffering. What's going on?

Yet, amidst the fog of my delirium, I become aware of faint whispers that elude my comprehension. They hover at the edges of my consciousness, too distant and fragmented to grasp and understand them fully. Amidst these elusive murmurs, I am certain I hear the voice of my mother, her gentle tones carrying a familiar warmth that soothes my aching soul.

But the fever rages on, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. The boundaries of my perception become distorted, leaving me unable to discern the true nature of the whispers that drift through the air. They remain as ethereal echoes, beyond my grasp, taunting me with their incomprehensibility.

As I drift in and out of consciousness, the boundaries between wakefulness and oblivion become blurred. The world around me flickers like a candle in the wind, while my own presence wavers between realms of awareness. In fleeting moments of lucidity, I summon the strength to keep my eyes open and focus on Six, desperately seeking answers amidst the chaos that engulfs me.