Page 45 of Bloom
Aleric had been stupid enough to stay after a couple of warning signs. He’d been stupid to take comfort and apologies from the one responsible too. He wouldn’t do that now, but a man can also turn without any signs. Had Jaime gotten medicine? Whatever Olivier had poisoned him with might wear off on its own with no more doses. It was clearly intended to kill slowly and was perfect to make it look as though the victim was weakening from a natural illness.
Someone touched his shoulder. “Aleric?”
He grunted. He just wanted to go back to sleep so he wouldn’t have to think, although his sleep couldn’t be considered restful. If someone could take the weight off of his chest, that would be great.
“I’ll be out in the sitting room. Jaime knows what to give you. Do you feel any better?” Aleric gave another, noncommittal grunt, and Father hesitated. “You’ll be fine, all right? Olivier knows what he’s doing.”
Father sounded like he was trying to convince himself. The door shut, and Jaime took his shoulder.
“I got fever medicine from the Latmer Apothecary. It’s sealed. I also got a jug of melon juice and a jar of honey. Your Father thinks I got the juice for sharing to be nice to you. You lost blood, and you need sugar.”
And hydration. It was amazing that Aleric’s mouth had grown dry, but he didn’t care to drink, and the hollowness in his gut didn’t matter either.
“Turn over.”
Every muscle in his body ached when he turned over. Even his skin hurt, and the position didn’t ease the tight, heaviness in his lungs. The small action took too much energy. Jaime touched the back of his wrist to Aleric’s forehead.
“You don’t feel any less warm. Has Olivier been in here?”
“I…don’t think so.” Aleric opened his eyes to see Jaime’s pinched expression. On the bedside table were the items he’d mentioned plus the shit Olivier thought Jaime would be giving him. That included a small bottle with a brand new concoction to make him sicker so he’d hopefully be gone before tomorrow.
“Maybe Olivier left all this in the sitting room, and your Father brought it in. Did your brother come in here?”
“No.” Or at least Aleric didn’t remember. He hadn’t heard Father leave the room before. “I don’t think so.”
“Mm.”
Jaime probably thought Zacharie was responsible overall. He showed him the medicine which had red wax all over the top. The L and A stamped in showed the apothecary had sealed it. It would ensure the cork stayed in and the contents remained fresh in case a buyer simply wanted to keep the medicine on hand.
The juice was also sealed with wax. Aleric didn’t know what the S meant. Either way, Jaime had done enough.
It wasn’t like Aleric had any other choice besides trusting him.
“It’s not poisoned. The honey came as is, so take it or leave it. I’d rather you have it in the juice for extra sugar. You need fluid too.”
“Fine.”
Jaime could have put a pillow over his face the night before and silently killed him with little trouble if he was a part of anything or simply sick of him. Aleric wouldn’t have been able to fight. He’d almost thought someone was trying to suffocate him when he’d awoken and realized breathing was hard.
“You could barely talk last night,” Jaime said in a low voice as he picked at the wax on the medicine bottle. “Your voice isn’t strong, but it’s not quite as weak as before.”
Because Olivier’s concoctions last night had also contained something to sedate him. A quiet victim is better, and if he wakes up anyway and says the physician is trying to kill him, everyone will think he’s mumbling nonsense he dreamed and imagined while in the grip of the fever.
Jaime finally got the wax off and pulled out the cork. “This has four doses. One now. One later, and the rest tomorrow. I’ll get you more if you need it.”
Aleric could barely get himself onto his elbow to drink two spoonfuls. Jaime hid the bottle and spoon in his pocket before he measured out the crap Olivier expected him to give to Aleric. Once it had been dumped down the privy, he opened the jug of pressed juice, poured a cup, and added honey.
He had to hold the cup so Aleric could drink. He was pretty sure he would have dropped it on his own. The sweetness was almost too much. At least it soothed his throat.
“I’d rather you eat a little too,” said Jaime.
“I can’t.” Aleric sank back into his pillow. The effort of chewing and swallowing anything seemed tremendous. He drew in a deep breath, struggling to find that satisfied sensation in his chest. It wasn’t there.
Jaime felt the pillow by his head. “I guess you getting up for a couple of minutes isn’t happening.”
Aleric would have glared at him if he had the energy. Fuck no, he couldn’t get up. Thank Elira, he hadn’t needed to piss. Then again, that wasn’t good since he was likely quite dehydrated.
“You’ve been sweating. The bedding is wet. The cover sheet they put under you isn't doing much now.”
