This chapter is dedicated to livingonedge for encouraging (harrassing) me to write :)
"He has been poisoned, Princess. I don't know if the poison is fatal. But, I don't want to take any chances. We need to find an antidote as soon as possible," Nathan said urgently.
"Why would anyone want to poison Jase?"
Nathan could not help smiling at her innocence. She was as naive as he had been before he left Esyria, blissfully unaware of the things humans were capable of doing.
"Not him, Your Highness," Nathan replied.
"Then who?" Her butterscotch eyes widened in surprised as realisation dawned upon her the moment the question left her lips.
"Me."
"You."
They said in unison.
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The pie was for me. The pie was for me. The pie was for me.
The same words repeated themselves in Catherine's mind, like a resounding cymbal. Biting on her bottom lip, Catherine angled her face away from Nathan's concerned gaze. The nagging guilt spread like poison in her body, travelling through her veins toward her pounding heart. She wished fervently that she had been poisoned instead; she'd much rather battle vivid hallucinations than deal with the suffocating lump in her throat.
Catherine blamed it on herself for putting Jase's life in danger. If she had tasted the pie before him, she would have been the one convulsing on the floor, the one forced to relive her worst nightmares, the one suffering, the one at risk of dying... Her heart constricted in pain.
"It's not your fault," Nathan said with unmistakable firmness in his voice.
Instead of responding, Catherine merely shook her head. It was like deja vu. She was sick and tired of people hurting or suffering for her sake. It was nobody's duty to protect her. Why was everyone willing to take an arrow for her? To lose an arm for her? To taste her food for her?
With her eyes shut and her fists clenched, she channelled all her panic and fear and anxiety into one strong emotion - anger. She felt the familiar rush of heat in her cheeks and acknowledged the burning sensation in her veins. Anger was refreshing and helped clear the fog in her mind. The moment she reopened her eyes, her brain was already scanning the situation and coming up with possible solutions. The first thing she had to do was make sure Lord Jepson was aware that the Haters had finally crossed the line and outlived their hospitality.
"Inform Lord Jepson, Amice and my sister of the slimy, ungrateful, pathetic -" Catherine cut herself off before she exploded into flames from all the hatred she felt toward the two ungrateful women. Jase and she had risked their lives to save the toddler from the raging river currents and this was how they were repaid for their act of kindness. Catherine could feel the tip of her ears turning red with fury.
Struggling to control her anger, she rephrased her request, "Tommy, could you -"
"I've got it, princess," Nathan replied, already halfway out the door. He admired her ability to regain control of the circumstances despite having just witness Jase's breakdown. Admittedly, watching Jase's cool and controlled exterior crack and crumble to that extent more than disconcerted him.
After Nathan left, Catherine turned to face Jase. The effect of the poison was profound as ever. He was still hallucinating, mumbling nonsense about his past. Watching him, fragile and hurting, completely extinguished her burning anger for the Haters and replaced it with crushing compassion. Her fiery rage became nothing more than a warm pile of dry twigs.
She lowered herself on the cold, stone floor, and sat in the middle of the dining area with her knees against her chest. Even though she felt like she was prying, the young princess could not force herself to look away. This was the broken boy which the strong, composed knight kept hidden from the world. She recalled seeing fleeting glimpses of this broken man whenever Jase unwittingly loosened his mask, but to truly see him unmasked made her doubt her abilities to fix him, to make him smile again. And it devastated her.
***
Calla screamed when she entered the house and saw a glassy eyed Jase leaning over Catherine's motionless body.
Nathan hurried to Catherine's side and breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that Catherine was asleep on the ground. The stress of the events and the overpowering emotions had knocked the fight out of her. At the same time, the village's healer rushed to Jase's side to examine him.
After checking his pulse and pupil, she turned to face an anxious Nathan and Calla with a grim look.
"Berystill," the healer announced.
Nathan's blood ran cold. The name triggered a succession of images.
He was twelve. It was two days after the death of his uncle and aunt, the King and Queen of Esyria. Nathan was fooling around in King Damian's study when the doors opened and his father walked in with two men in black he did not recognize. In a moment of panic, he hid under the large oak desk. His father led the two men to the centre of the room and offered them tea. They made small talk for a while before moving onto more serious matters, distinguished by the tone of their voices.
Nathan remembered the moment clearly. He was still wondering what his father meant by thanking the two strange men for making King Damian's study his own when abruptly, both men began tearing at their chests. His father merely leaned back and said, "Berystill will make sure my secret dies with you."
Forcing his mind back from the past, Nathan asked, "Are you certain?" his voice harsher and louder than he had intended. From what he remembered, the two men did not hallucinate like Jase did.
"Yes. Berystill was very common about five years ago. This plant can only be found in the inlands of Esyria. The poison is most effective if used immediately after the sap is drained and mixed with the crushed leaves. Whoever had it must have had it for a while now. It is not as poisonous, but can still be fatal. Once ingested, it will travel to the two most vital organs in the human anatomy, the brain and the heart. It acts on the neurons, causing hallucination," she paused and looked to Nathan for confirmation. He nodded once. "Then, while the body is weak and worn out, the poison travels to the heart. Large doses can inhibit contraction of the heart muscles immediately, causing death in mere minutes."
"Jase only had a small dose," Calla said. The uncertainty in her voice made it sound more like a question than a statement. She yearned for Amice's steadiness and calm support, but her betroth had left with a squadron of soldiers to scour the surroundings for Patricia Morgonsten and her daughter. The mother-daughter pair had vanished from the village, leaving their home empty and their whereabouts unknown.
Calla tried in vain to shrug off the feeling of dread, her mind flashing to a similar incident that took place six year ago.
It was a year after the death of the Esyrian monarchs. The war between the two kingdoms had just ended and there was an overpowering hatred between Belleranians and Esyrians. It was a chaotic time where spies stirred up conflict and leaked information planted seeds of fear among the people. People turned against each other, fingers were pointed, and trust was scarce. A poison tester was employed for the royal family, guards were doubled and the castle's defence was tightened.
As young children, Chris and Catherine were blissfully unaware of the serious dangers at the time. Aside from the addition of body guards, the pair continued living carefree lives of fun and games.
Unable to resist their princess's charming request, the cooks routinely supplied the mischievous pair with food for their adventures, picnics and food fights. Once, during their picnic, a young Chris had jokingly insisted on being Catherine's personal poison tester. Ten-year-old Catherine had played along and had offered to feed him the first bite to put his poison testing skills to good use. When Chris crumpled to the ground, Catherine had been traumatized. Even with the royal healers, it took almost a month before the poison was completely flushed out of his system. It took three times the amount of time for Chris to convince Catherine to eat food from the palace kitchen.
After hearing the story from Calla, Nathan pondered over it as he rode toward the city of Bellerania alongside Catherine. Calla had opted to remain in the village while awaiting news from Amice. Under Lord Jepson's command, Catherine had finally relented and allowed him to send a handful of guards along for her protection. The group rode hard and fast in hopes of traversing the distance before nightfall.
With the help of a sleeping potion the village healer had concocted, Jase was unconscious in Nathan's saddle while Nathan rode at a swift trot. As they sped past the peaceful outskirts, Nathan questioned the hatred between the two kingdoms and reflected on the damage and loss suffered throughout the past six years.
"It's stupid," Nathan remarked with a bitter laugh, thinking about the horrors King Damain's greediness had given birth to. Everything fell apart with the death of his uncle, the rightful ruler of Esyria. His father, King Edward, was barely a fraction of the man his brother was. Nathan wondered if the same could be said about Jase and himself.
Beneath him, the sandy plains gave way to moist earth. Nathan took no notice of the change in scenery. His mind was plagued with thoughts of Jase and his purpose in Bellerania. He was certain that Jase intended to use Catherine as a ploy for revenge, just as he was certain than Jase cared for the strong willed girl.
Involuntarily, Nathan's eyes flickered toward Catherine. Her torso was low, almost brushing against the flowing mane, her hips swayed steadily according to the rocking motion of the horse, and her shoulders were pulled back. Behind her, the sun gradually lowered itself toward the horizon. The horse and rider sped up in their race against dusk. Nathan admired her profile as raw determination drove her forward.
"You're stupid," Nathan muttered to an unconscious Jase. Enough people had been victims of the hatred between the two kingdoms. There was no need for Jase and Catherine to add their names to the ever growing list, which would be inevitable if Jase decided to go ahead with whatever diabolical plan for revenge he had in mind.
Nathan noticed that Catherine's eyes flickered toward Jase between short intervals as if to check whether he was still alive.
***
"Let go of me," Catherine hissed angrily, ripping her wrist out of Chris's grip. Turning in the direction of the royal infirmary, Catherine hastened to follow after the four healers that had carried an unconscious Jase away on a stretcher. The image of Jase, pale and limp, was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
She managed to take two steps before Chris grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him.
"Hey," Chris whispered, gently lifting her chin to look her in the eye.
Catherine snapped her eyelids shut to stop him from seeing the tell-tale tears. "You don't understand," she began. "It's my fault. I need to be with him when he wakes up. If he wakes up..."
Instead of assuring her that Jase would be fine, Chris pulled his best friend into his arms and hugged her tightly while she finally surrendered to exhaustion. Without the rush of adrenaline, Catherine's world swirled around her and Chris's arms were the only thing keeping her from collapsing. The tears that had threatened to spill countless times during the ride back wouldn't come as Catherine rested her cheek against her best friend's muscular chest.
Chris shifted Catherine to one arm and shook Nathan's hand with his other.
"Thank you for your help..." Chris trailed off.
"Tommy. Tommy Lanfurt, Sir," Nathan supplied.
"Have we met, Tommy?" Chris asked, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Nathan kept his face relaxed. "I believe not, Sir."
After leaving the servants with instructions to provide Nathan with a warm bath and a bed, Chris addressed the girl in his arms.
"Time to rest."
"I'm not tired," Catherine announced, lifting her head to look at him. Even though her muscles ached from riding, her eyes were bright and alert. She was too anxious to fall asleep.
"Of course not," Chris said sarcastically, rubbing the black circles under her eyes with the pad of his thumb.
"I'm hungry."
Chris chuckled in response.
Two hours, half a chicken and two slices of bread later, Catherine lay soundly asleep in Chris's arms. He stared at her peaceful profile as his mind processed everything she had just told him. She had shared every minute detail with him - the journey, the incident at the inn, Sir Bretson's rescue, the Haters, the pie...
Chris concluded that he owed Sir Bretson a huge thank you for watching out for Catherine while he, her best friend, was too busy mending his wounded pride. He shuddered to think about what he would have done if she had been harmed by the drunken oafs, or had drowned in the river, or poisoned by the Haters.
"I love you," Chris whispered tenderly as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
Catherine snuggled deeper into his chest and mumbled a reply in her sleep. "I miss you."
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Hi. Thank you for reading!!! I apologize for the long wait between updates. On the bright side, i'm done school so updates will be very frequent from now on (i'll do my best to give you guys an update once a week) :) please leave a comment or vote if you enjoyed this chapter :) feel free to let me know how to improve! i give dedications to helpful comments because i really appreciate and love them :) so keep them coming! (and no, that was no intended as a bribe ;)