Page 114 of The Kingdom's Crown

"She's malnourished, dehydrated, sleep-deprived, her body is failing. If there was something sustaining her this long, it was the magic of her Hunger," the doctor said.

You're not surprised though, are you? a dark voice whispered in my head.

"Dying?" my mother repeated.

"Naturally?" Sir Weston asked, frowning and rubbing his jaw.

"As naturally as one can under the circumstance," the doctor said with a soft shrug.

I thought of the early days of my Hunger coming in, giving into hours and hours with Cosmo and Owen until we were all too tired to continue. And even then, the Hunger had craved for more.

And Camellia was such an impulsive, selfish personality. She'd thought the Hunger made her powerful, and after visiting the Winter Palace, after I'dthreatenedher, she'd probably foolishly believed that feeding hers would make her stronger than me.

A sliver of guilt wormed its way into my heart, but rather than fight it or sink into the feeling, I simply let it find its place there, amongst the tangle of anger, relief, and sorrow that had already taken up residence.

"Is she in pain?" I asked.

"Acutely, yes," the doctor answered.

"Can anything be done for her relief?"

"A sedative, perhaps."

"Your Highness are you considering…measures to heal your sister?" Jack McCallum asked. "I don't mean to be insensitive, but is that wise?"

"Can she be healed?" my mother asked, eyes widening.

"Physically…it's unlikely," the doctor said. "Her state is deteriorating too quickly."

"In my personal opinion, the Hunger is eating away at the princess now that it's not being fed," Aric said.

"I'm not sure why it should matter, considering her actions yesterday are grounds for execution," another council member muttered with his head down.

I expected my mother to start weeping again or to cry out and object. To insist Camellia was saved, as if we might somehow find our way to peace after everything that had happened. She did neither, although there was a soft catch of breath from her throat before she stood at the end of the table.

"I would like to go and see her in her cell. Bryony?"

"Not a—" Cresswell growled from the back, but one of the others hushed him.

I stood slowly, and my mother reached out a hand for me. "Yes, I'll come."

* * *

Camellia's cellwas similar to Lily's, a decent room in a sunny corner of the north wing. Not quite the dungeons, but just above them. The windows were high and barred, a small fire in a secured grate keeping the small space warm.

"It's…there's less in here," I whispered to Head Guard Amos.

"She was volatile yesterday when we brought her in," he answered.

I couldn't see her through the narrow slitted window of the door, but her ragged breaths and pained whines were clear.

"She's… The physician is right. She's failing quickly it seems," Amos added. "Are you sure you should go in? I can't go with you."

My dagger was at my hip. I didn't know if I would need it, or if I would make the same choice not to harm my sister again, but I looked back past Amos to my Chosen. They would only be feet away, and nothing would stop them from running in if I was in trouble. I had my tiger too, and I could shift quickly if Camellia tried to attack. I'd be ready this time, and I wouldn't let her touch me.

"Open the door," I said, nodding.

The key turned in the lock, every thump in time with a beat of my heart, and my mother stepped inside first. I hesitated for a moment, considering going in as my tiger, but already the scent of sweat was strong, bile too. My mother's gasps came quickly, and I finally followed for her sake alone.

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