Page 45 of Dance with the Dragon Duke

He took her blood pressure twice, peeked inside her nose and mouth, ran a wooden tool gently over her teeth, and felt along the column of her throat. He checked her skin for rashes and other abrasions. Dark fought down the urge to snarl when the doctor’s examination required that he look over more intimate areas. He tested her reflexes. He took her temperature with a glass thermometer. He pulled a second that appeared identical to the first and took another reading. He recorded all his findings in a small black journal.

Dr. Bandile insisted on speaking privately with her after that. Out in the hall, Dark paced. Margot and Susan stood with him. They kept silent, but they hovered close, sensing correctly in their intuitive way that he didn’t want to talk but didn’t want to be alone either.

When the door opened, the three of them came to attention at once. Margot held Susan’s hand, and the physician joined them in the corridor, his bag at his side.

“Well?” Dark said eagerly.

“It’s as she has told you already. Her condition is fatal,” the doctor said, his voice clear and solemn.

Numbness seeped down his body until it reached the tips of his fingers and toes and tingled there unpleasantly. Dark’s hands flexed, nails digging into the wool of his trousers.

Dr. Bandile allowed the duke a moment to absorb the news before he continued, “Looking at her, one would believe that Miss Tomorrow was a vibrant immortal woman. There are no outward signs of aging, but after close examination, she has the lungs and heart function that I only see in elderly humans not long for this world.”

“And there’s nothing that can be done using mortal medical science?” Dark’s voice broke. Susan placed a comforting hand high on his back.

“I’m afraid not. If humans knew how to repair tissue and organs that had worn out, we’d be as immortal as the fae by now.” Dr. Bandile set his bag down beside his feet and used his hands to gesture while he spoke. “Best I can tell after interviewing my patient, the poison injected into her body nearly a year ago was a mixture of chemical and curse. With the damage done to her organs, it was blood magic that kept her from perishing quickly. I’m no mage, but I do have a basic understanding of the impact such magic can have on the body. I see it from time to time while working at the dispensary when someone purchases a bad spell on the street. Blood magic functions on life force, and each time it’s cast on a person, it leaves a trace of itself behind. When used in great, great excess, this trace becomes quite toxic to those of us without a natural immunity to it like the Unseelie possess.”

Dark understood what he was being told in some faraway place in his mind. The rest of his thoughts were in a jumble, unable to grab hold of any one thing. He stood there frozen, a black cold seeping through his insides to replace the numbness, turning his stomach.

Margot swiped at her running nose and sniffled. “Then all those potions and tonics and spells used to preserve her are now what’s killing her?”

The physician nodded glumly.

“Dr Bandile,” Susan said, and her indigo eyes glistened with tears, “isn’t there anything we can do for her?”

“Keep her comfortable and let her rest. Her tired body needs it,” he said. “And love her. Be with her. Don’t let the poor woman die alone. It’s all anyone can do.”

* * *

Tomorrow

After the physician left, Tomorrow slept. She awoke hours later to a room lit by candles, feeling as though she hadn’t rested at all. Her eyes were gritty, and her limbs ached dully.

Dark entered, pushing a wheeled cart. He looked dreadful: disheveled and scowling. An invisible weight shoved down her shoulders, and a desire to make a confession to him overwhelmed her.

Dark pushed bread and broth and refreshments into the room. He helped her sit up, stacking pillows behind her while she thought over the words she wanted to say. He took the stool from the vanity and set it between her bedside and the cart. Perched on the cushioned seat that was much too small for his bulky frame, he stirred the bowl of broth like he planned to spoon-feed her, and her gut pinched with remorse.

“Dark,” she whispered.

His soulful black eyes were as vast and bottomless as the night sky he so admired. “Are you hungry?”

Biting her lip, she shook her head. “I need to tell you something.”

He set the spoon down against the ceramic rim of the bowl and shifted to face her fully, resting his hands on his thick thighs. “More secrets?” His smile did not reach his eyes.

“Not exactly.” She worried the edges of her blankets. “I just need you to know that it’s my fault—er, well, it’s Glen’s fault mostly, of course. But after I was bed-bound, the fairy healers,they warned me what could happen if I kept drinking their wine.”

Dark brushed an errant strand of her hair behind her pointed ear. The gentle gesture was full of understanding. “You were trying to get better.”

“I was doomed either way,” Tomorrow said, and her voice squeaked. “I desperately wanted a chance at revenge. I was never going to get that trapped in a bed, dying slowly on the other side of the river. The Seelie have special laws about a last statement made by the deceased, especially one made by nobility. So I wrote my declaration, specifying Glen Freest as my murderer. My gran has it still. Then I came here to get my inheritance so that when I died aduchess, the Tree Court and the Lunar Court would be forced to do something about my last testament. Gran would get her orchards back, and Glen would get his comeuppance finally.”

“Why does this sound like a confession, Sunshine?” His smile was pinched, tone reproachful. “Any reasonable person would have made all those same choices.”

“But I feel like I’m disappointing everyone.” She rubbed the bedding between her fingers until the fabric warmed and the pad of her thumbs felt raw. “My mother named me as she did because she hoped I’d always have the promise of tomorrow, and now it feels like I’m letting her down, too. Is that silly?”

“The silliest,” he said, and the corners of his glassy eyes crinkled briefly.

“When I was a fledgling and I started aging so much slower than my mortal friends, my gran was very excited. Finally, she would get to keep someone she loved. I feel like I—”

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