Page 29 of Her Dark Reflection

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked as she moved closer to my bed with her small hands clenched before her.

‘Quite well… your Royal Highness?’ I replied, my voice raised in question.

Her cheeks flushed a beguiling shade of pink and she glanced down. ‘No one calls me that in here,’ she said quietly. ‘You can call me Gwin. Or Snow, I suppose. That’s what my father calls me… I mean, only if you’d like… I think my father would like it if you did. He must think very much of you. I’ve never seen him visit the infirmary before, and I’m in here all the time…’

Her brow puckered and she touched her fingers to her lips. ‘Oh, that must sound very ungrateful of me. I’m never very ill when I’m here, I’m sure he would visit me if I was… And everyone was so sure you were going to die. Even the Grand Weaver said the nagwis venom was going to kill you.’ She chewed her lip as she watched me with those big eyes, and there was something in her face that reminded me of the stray dogs I’d seen roaming the streets of the city, of the hunger in their eyes. But this wastheSnow White, Princess Gwinellyn, living in a palace surrounded by a team of servants who catered to her every whim. What did she have to hunger for?

Then my groggy mind finished digesting her words and I forgot her hungry eyes.

‘A nagwis?’ I repeated incredulously. ‘That’s what was in my bed?’

‘A hall boy managed to catch it. I’m so glad he did. I don’t think I could sleep knowing it was wandering around.’

I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, and a crawling feeling crept down the back of my neck as I remembered the creature launching itself across the mattress, waving its pincers in the air, its dozens of legs rippling. I had never seen one, but I’d heard of the aggressive insects that swarmed travellers who dared to brave the Shifting Plains to the north-east of Brimordia’s border, land so treacherous that the kingdom beyond was all but isolated, both protected from the expansionist efforts of its neighbours and cut off from all trade. What one of those hellish creatures was doing this far south, and in my bed no less, was beyond me.

‘Rhi! You’re awake!’ I turned just as Senafae barrelled into the room in a burst of frantic energy. ‘You almost died!’

‘So I’ve heard.’ I glanced back to where Princess Gwinellyn had been standing only to find her gone.

Senafae followed my eyes. ‘Oh yes, I saw her talking to you. I’m surprised she was. Funny little thing.’ She lowered her voice. ‘One of the nurses told me she’s mad. Has fits where she falls to the floor, frothing at the mouth. She was milling around a bit last night, but she always seems to duck out of sight. I think she has a private room to hide away in.’ Senafae sat in a chair by my bedside and lifted the cover from a tray that rested on the side table, revealing a meal of soup and soft white bread. ‘Lucky she’s the heir to the throne,’ she continued, inhaling appreciatively, ‘or she’d be locked in a temple somewhere. Are you going to eat this?’

‘Indeed, she is,’ a new voice snapped, and Mrs Corkill entered the room, straight-backed and severe as ever. Senafae dropped the tray cover and snatched her hands into her lap. Mrs Corkill harrumphed before casting an eye over me.

‘Since you are decidedly alive, you’d best eat. And thank Taveum for whatever whim led him to let you from his grip. I was certain the sand in your glass had emptied.’ She took up the tray and placed it on my lap before thrusting a spoon at me. Beneath her bullying stare, I swallowed a spoonful of soup, though my stomach lurched queasily. She gave a curt nod.

‘I suspect the creature that stung you entered the palace with some of the entertainers who were staying for the Armistice Ball. Have you been keeping… intimate company with any of them?’ Her mouth shrivelled like she had sucked on something sour.

I glanced around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear what she’d said. This was how rumours started. ‘No, I have not,’ I snipped, scowling at her.

She sniffed. ‘Good. I suggest you use your recovery time to thank the gods for your life. I’ll inform the physicians that you’re awake. You’ve had half the palace hovering over you, though why so many would take such interest in a maisera is beyond me to understand, nagwis or no.’ Pursing her lips, she shot a final glare at Senafae and marched away.

Senafae watched the housekeeper leave with an expression curling with dislike, before leaning towards me. ‘It’s true. Even thekingwas here.’ Her tone was intense. ‘When you started vomiting blood and his physicians told him you weren’t going to live, he sent for the Grand Weaver himself.’ She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘What exactly happened between you that he would come racing to your sick bed?’

‘He must think I’m a good knock,’ I said blithely, and her brows pinched in a frown. My blasé attitude was just a front; a shudder of unease was rolling through my bones. The king taking such an interest was welcome news, but I didn’t like her description of the state I’d been in. I mentally checked over my body again, probing for any lingering signs that I might still be in danger, but my headache was fading already. I felt strangely well for someone who had been through what she had described. ‘Dovegni did something to me then?’

‘He flapped about for a while, then said he could do no more. Actually, it was the strangest thing. He arrived in all his glory, billowing robes and all that business, and sent everyone out of the room to work his great and mysterious magic.’ She widened her eyes and waggled her fingers in the air. ‘Then he came out and explained to the king in minute detail what he’d tried to do and why you couldn’t be saved, but by the time we returned to your bedside you’d stopped thrashing around and gasping like you couldn’t breathe and were fast asleep. I don’t know if he told us he couldn’t cure you because he has a penchant for drama, but it made for quite the moment.’

I took another spoonful of soup and was relieved to find that my stomach seemed to have settled. In fact, it had roared to life and demanded to be filled. ‘I’m not thrilled to owe my life to Dovegni,’ I muttered between mouthfuls.

Senafae watched me take a few bites. ‘People don’t usually die from just one sting, you know. City folk don’t understand that. It’d make you monstrously ill, yes, but it usually takes a swarm of them to kill a fully-grown adult. You had a reaction to the venom.’

‘If you say so.’ I poked at something grey and unrecognisable in my soup, wondering if I could go and eat my evening meal with the other maisera. ‘All I care about now is that I’m indebted to the slimiest creature at court, and I’m sure he won’t let me forget it.’

‘You should be worried about how hard it has been on your body. You might want to think about going home.’

I froze with a dripping piece of bread suspended above my bowl. ‘What?’

She rose from the chair. ‘Just think about it. Would you like me to bring you anything?’

I shook my head, and she leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek before taking her leave. I couldn’t believe she would suggest that I needed to leave the palace because of some bug bite. It was absurd. And I feltfine.

But it did leave me wondering. Howhadthe creature wound up in my bed?

Despite my insistence that my health was perfect, I remained in the infirmary under observation, as though everyone was waiting for the miracle that was my survival to be revealed as a trick. I would have liked to enjoy my time being waited on and cared for, especially when King Linus visited with his entourage and bid I ask for anything my heart desired. I asked for a specific pastry from Mrs Mylner’s Patisserie on Peak Street and when the king commanded his valet go and fetch me what I asked for, the valet’s skin turned a delightful shade of puce. But as the day wore on, I was painfully aware of the time ticking away until my glamour would need refreshing. I would need to sneak back to my room in the evening.

Aside from Princess Gwinellyn, who occupied a private room just off the main infirmary, there were two other patients sharing the space with me: an older woman whose dreadful cough rattled the air throughout the day, and a woman a little younger than me who sported a broken nose and two black eyes, apparently from falling down a flight of stairs. There seemed to be a trio of nurses who rotated through caring for us, and of those three, one was lovely, one spoke overly loud and slow, like we were simpletons, and one was prime evil.

It was the lovely one who served the evening meal, and she offered me a warm smile as she placed a tray across my knees.

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