Page 50 of Desperately Yours

Fear almost kept me from asking, but I needed to understand. “And what was their plan?”

Void of feeling, she spoke as if she were repeating their directions verbatim. “I would enter the raffle for a chance to attain the prince’s heart, they would ensure I won, and I would do my best to stay in the competition. If I won, and I convinced the prince to marry me, they would let Tauriq live. But if I failed, or if I refused, he would be tortured and killed in front of me.”

“And who arethey?”

“People stronger than I ever hope to be.”

I’d grown tired of the cryptic speech pattern. Answers were all I wanted at this point. Those, and for my wrists not to be bound up with ropes tight enough to slice my skin every time I moved.

“Sadie,” I forced my voice to level out, “I know this feels dire. Maybe you even feel trapped, but the prince cares about you. If you level with him, I bet he could help you. He’ll know what to do and he’ll—”

“There’s no time for that.” She turned away, wringing her hands together. “The queen is planning to push for a wedding tonight. Everyone is talking about it. I handed over my final vial of elixir. Once they dose the king, he won’t come back, not without the antidote.”

Wait, what? My attention pricked.

“There’s an antidote?” If I sounded too eager, I was sure she would shut down all conversation. Rather, I tried to act like I was in awe of her prowess. Easier to butter her up than to bully her. “I didn’t know you could make such a thing.”

“I had to.” She spoke to herself. “It was too easy to accidentally ingest it through my skin while I brewed it. To be cautious, every time I handled it, I took a dose of the antidote, just to be sure.”

She’d handled it here at the palace. Did that mean she had vials of the antidote handy?

“In fact,” she reached into a fold of her skirt and removed a small vial of rusty-orange liquid, “I have one on me at all times. It’s proven a valuable inclination, all things considered.”

“What do you mean? When did you have to use it?”

Maybe it was in the heart of every mastermind, the need to share their secrets, but she weighed her options before she spoke.

“The interview. My…employers…wanted the king to be sick on live broadcast, to show the people just how far he’d fallen.” Sadness briefly overtook her expression, but she pushed it back. “I coated the food in the poison, a heavy dose to be sure he would fall apart quickly.”

I thought back to the interview and the way Esme had nervously eaten the grapes and crackers. “I thought it was a bug that made Esmerey sick…”

“Yes,” Sadie nodded, “I was lucky it found its way inside. No one suspected, not after she slapped at her neck so loudly and then collapsed within a minute or two.”

“But… you ate the food too.” I watched her carefully, unwilling to believe she’d done all of this without me seeing anything. “But you didn’t pull out an antidote at any point. You ate at least as much as she did. Maybe more.”

“I drank it before the interview.” Sadie shrugged as if her genius was not something worth celebrating. “It made me immune for the next hour.” When my face gave away my shock over her callous behavior, she waved me off. “Esmerey is fine. No lasting effects. Within a couple days she recovered. Spooked…” Sadie smirked at the memory, “… but recovered. Besides,” her gaze darted away, “she wasn’t the intended target. She ate almost nothing during her time here, I never would have expected her to indulge. You, on the other hand, I’ve seen you nervously pack away food like a Norwegian field mouse.”

I started to take offense to her putting me on par with vermin, but the underlying message took hold. “You meant to poisonme.”

Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t deny it. “Esmerey was never my competition. If I have any chance at Tauriq tasting freedom again, I have to win the crown. It wasn’t personal. I knew you’d get sick and they would send you home. It was born of mercy more than anything else. I wanted to save you from this end.”

“How benevolent,” I snapped back. “And if you killed me along the way, all the better, right?”

“It was the best option, all matters considered.” Sadie shook her head sadly. “You were dead the moment you entered the country, Michaela. Anyone as close to Leonidas as you are has a target on their head.”

My heart clenched. What was she saying? Was that a threat?

“Enough of this,” sadness weighted her voice, “there are pertinent matters to attend to.” She moved to the shadows of the room and returned with a notepad and pen. “I need you to write a letter.”

“What kind of letter?” I wasn’t about to do her any favors.

“One that will urge your PrinceFitzto move on and marry me instead of you. Surely, you’ve considered how wrong your relationship is for this country, yes? Or how much you don’t belong together, not really.” She motioned at the pad. “Put that in there. Explain that you’ve returned to America and that you don’t want to hear from him again.”

My glare became a dagger. I’d helped her. I’d sacrificed for her. There was a time when she was my first pick for him. The betrayal burned.

“It won’t work.” I jerked against the ropes for a visual aid. “First of all, my hands are tied behind my backandhe knows my handwriting, so you can’t fake it.” Arrogance surged in mychest, reveling in the first upper hand I’d earned since I’d regained consciousness. “Second, why on earth would I ever do something like that for you? You have no leverage. What’s your threat? You’ll kill me? Close as I can tell, that’s already the plan, isn’t it?”

Weary with my words, Sadie spoke slowly, giving each sentence a moment to stand. “I’ll untie you so that you can write the letter. One hand only.” Her lips pursed together for a moment as if the next part wasn’t something she wanted to say. “As for leverage, even without your letter, I will marry the prince tonight. If out of nothing but duty and desperation, we will wed. But if you do not write the letter, I swear to you, I’ll make his life miserable.” She leaned forward, her volume dropping to a sinister whisper that sent chills up my spine. “Powders that leave unexplained boils on his skin. Liver disease from tainted drinks. Lung scarring from the fumes in his shower. Nothing strong enough to kill him, just enough to torture him for the rest his life… unless you comply.”

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