Page 83 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Wilson,” I start, knowing what he wants me to say, but I can’t. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and try to calm my frustration. “I won’t apologise for helping him. What has gotten into you? Why did you bother coming over if it was so stupid?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried. I really care for you, Clarissa, and if something were to happen—” He cuts off and looks away, running his hands through his hair, and I realise he was truly worried for me. Guilt rises, but I still don’t regret helping that man, only that my actions caused Wilson to worry. “And I helped you because I knew it was the right thing to do. Plus, they can’t harm me,” he finishes, and he’s right. As a magician, he has a little more immunity than the rest of us. If they were to harm him, it would damage the relationship between the royals and the mages.

I don’t know what to say, my mind a jumble of feelings I’m not sure how to process or react to. Opening my mouth like a fish out of water, I begin to respond when a loud banging fills the room again, and everyone turns to the steward by the door.

“Please be seated for the evening meal,” he announces in a loud, clear voice as everyone bustles over to the tables.

Wilson, Lord Bastian, Aileen, and I all walk over to the table and see cards with words written on them.

“Name cards. I’m surprised they’re asking us to sit in certain seats, I wonder why,” Wilson muses, and I follow him as we work our way up the table. He eventually finds our names and gestures for me to sit. I’ve found that if I stay quiet, people often read out loud, so I haven’t been as restricted by my illiteracy as I thought I might be.

Once everyone is settled the food is brought out, and people make polite conversation across the table. We mostly keep to ourselves, but Bastian introduces me to a couple more people he knows who are seated near us. The meal passes quickly, and before I know it, our dessert plates are being taken away. Acough sounds from the head of the hall, and as I turn to look, I see the king is standing, waiting for us to give him our attention. Everyone quickly hushes and turns their heads to watch the king. Dipping his head in acknowledgement, he smiles, but it’s not a nice smile, it’s full of cruel anticipation. My wrist is tingling, and I know something awful is about to happen.

“Before you all leave, we have a... gift, for each of the ladies who were invited here tonight.”

Titters and pleased sounds come from the ladies around us at the king’s ‘kindness.’ Our king is not known for his benevolence or generosity, but the prospect of being given a gift seems to override their common sense. Glancing over at Aileen, I see she is frowning too, obviously thinking along the same lines as me.

Servants enter the room with small boxes on their gleaming silver trays. Walking along the long tables, they hand out the boxes to each lady.

“Lady Clarissa?” a young girl who can’t be older than sixteen asks, holding out a beautiful, gilded box.

“Yes, thank you,” I say, as I accept the box from her. I want to examine it, but her expression stops me. She appears surprised at my gratitude and hesitates like she wants to say something. She glances from the box, to me, and then back again, with sadness in her eyes.

“May the Mother bless you,” she whispers softly, before moving down the table and handing out the rest of the boxes.

An uneasy feeling fills me, and I watch her with a frown as she hurries down the table. The ladies are all cooing over their gift, and I turn my gaze from the girl to my box. It’s beautiful, carved from wood with a stunning, red gem set into the top and gold leaf brushed onto the vines etched into the sides. For a moment, I think the box is the gift, but I see other ladies opening it and peering inside. Following suit, I see a small brown square in the centre of the box.

“It’s a chocolate,” Wilson tells me quietly, and I flash him a grateful smile. I’ve heard of chocolate, but I’ve never had the opportunity to actually try it, and even among the higher classes it’s hard to get a hold of, and the prices rose exorbitantly after one of the towns that specialised in it was raided by elves a couple of years ago.

“Eat,” the king announces, but it’s more of an order than a request.

Regarding the small chocolate, I lift it from the box and examine it. It doesn’t look like much, a small square with a slightly domed top, and I’m not quite sure why people seem to get so excited about it. A sweet fragrance reaches my nose, and I realise I must be smelling the chocolate. My mouth instantly starts watering.

“Are you going to eat it?” Wilson questions with a quirk of his lips. The ladies around me are popping the chocolate into their mouths, their hums of pleasure reaching me. With a smile, I roll my eyes at him and raise the chocolate to my mouth. Instantly, the sweet, creamy flavour explodes on my tongue and I close my eyes, understanding what everyone was talking about. It’s delicious.

A gagging noise has me opening my eyes and looking around for the source of the sound. Farther down the table, I see a lady clutching her throat, and I recognise the woman who was drunk and causing problems earlier in the evening. The skin around her neck and lips is blistering as a greenish tinge colours her skin. Something connects in my mind and I look at the girl in horror. I’ve seen that before. Greenshade.

It’s a plant that grows in the slums and fields around the city. When I worked on one of the farms, many slaves used to come back with these greenish burns on their legs where they had walked through fields of it. I’ve never experienced it myself, but the citrusy smell the harmless looking plant gave off was one ofthe only ways of telling it apart from any other weed. I can’t even imagine how painful it must be to ingest it.

“This is the consequence of disappointing me. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Looking down at the now empty box, I realise what’s happening—they have poisoned the chocolates. Although, as I look around, I can see not everyone has been affected. Panic fills the room as the ladies comprehend what’s happening, their escorts calling out for medical aid. Some are hurrying from the hall, not glancing back as they leave the terror behind them.

Several other pained noises reach me, and I see a couple of ladies grabbing their throats with the same blisters appearing on their skin before they fall forward onto the table with a loud thump as blood trickles from their noses.

“This is madness,” Aileen whispers, and I spin to see her wide eyes as she looks around the room, understanding what’s happening.

“Are you okay?” Wilson queries, his voice high as he looks me up and down, checking for any signs of poisoning. My throat is tight, but I feel okay despite my pounding heart. I grip onto his hand firmly, needing to feel him, to be grounded. Aileen is doing the same with her father.

“No! I won’t eat it, I refuse!” a high, panicked voice shouts, causing everyone to turn and see what the disruption is.

A young lady in a stunning emerald dress is staring down at the chocolate, her hands shaking. She looks terrified, her face twisted as she tries to get out of her seat, shying away from the guards who have circled her. The man next to her, who I assume is her father, is standing and trying to stop the guards from getting closer.

“Is there a problem?” Prince Rhydian’s voice cuts through the clamour of voices, and everyone turns to stare as he stalks towards the girl and her father. That sick feeling returns, and Iknow this is not going to be pleasant. Reaching the older man, Rhydian clasps his hands behind his back as he waits for a response.

“Your Highness, please, this is unnecessary. My daughter has no interest in being queen, you can pick from the other ladies. Please, just spare my daughter,” the father implores, as his daughter cowers next to him, whimpering under the stares of the king and prince. He gestures as he speaks, and I can tell how distressed he is at the thought of his daughter consuming poison. Rhydian simply grunts, “Huh,” tilting his head to one side as he watches them with a deceptively calm expression on his face.

“Your daughter thinks she is above the throne?”

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