Page 66 of Bloom
“Try living with it for longer. Do you think waiting isn’t worse when it stretches out for days and weeks? I bet your Father didn’t pretend there was no fever and call you a liar.” Aleric marched toward the window to open it once more so he could toss out the cards.
Aleric would have been right if Jaime’s parents had died from a fever. Jaime did know what it was like to live in fear that the danger was creeping closer and tightening the noose. That one night had given him nightmares for weeks. For months, he’d thought men would one day appear in the small village and kill the man and woman he called Uncle and Aunty. They’d recognize him and drive a sword through his body just like Mother or injure him so badly, all of his strength would trickle away just like Jed’s.
Except the fear had lessened, and nobody had appeared to kill him. It had taken a while before Jaime felt truly safe, but that feeling, something that many take for granted, had finally arrived. He’d stopped listening at night for strange voices, screams, and the pounding of boots coming closer.
Aleric couldn’t find that point with the danger living in his home and touching him to remind him that it was there right after a second failed attempt to claim his life.
Aleric came over to take the card from his hand. Fenrir turned into a black blur when he was flicked through the window, and the card spun away to vanish as if lost forever, never to be found. Aleric returned to his bedroom.
Jaime watched his white hair disappear and let his eyes travel back to the open window where the pale curtains fluttered with the breeze. The cards hadn’t vanished. They were below on the lawn, waiting to be found, and he’d see them if he looked down.
Aleric and Jaime couldn’t see a way out, but there was one. They just had to find it. Lord Monet couldn’t see the truth and wouldn’t look out and in the right direction. Someone needed to force him.
“Hey.” Jaime knocked on the bedroom door. “Aleric.”
“For Elira’s sake. I just got back into bed.”
“It’s important, and I’d rather not shout it to you.”
Aleric opened his door, and his eyes immediately darted to the one leading into the hall like he thought Zacharie was about to come in again. “What?”
“You were right,” started Jaime.
“Wow, thanks. You dragged me up for that?”
“I also had an idea. Your Father won’t believe you, and if I go to talk to him, he’ll think you filled my head with shit. He won't trust me.”
Aleric squinted. “Yes?”
“I’m sure Zacharie’s whining to him right now, or he will be. That won’t make you look good. I live in your rooms, so you could be feeding me lies all damn day. We need to show your Father proof and make it somehow entirely separate from you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m guessing my food is safe?”
“Yes. It comes from what the servants eat, and they simply make whatever they want big enough for several to eat from. Scrambled eggs, stew, whatever…I’m not too keen on my food being brought up in case it passes through someone’s hands before. I’m target number one.”
Lord Gautier might find a way to add “special” seasoning or a few drops of poison to his soup or anything he was given.
“If I’m helping you, won’t I be a target?”
“Not for a while. You’ve spoken to Gautier?”
“Yeah.”
Aleric sneered. “I'm sure he’ll be trying to get into your good graces later to see if you’ll be a tool. You're in my rooms. You’ve got time, and in a bit, I’ll tell Father you can eat at the High Table with me since you’re my aid and not a real slave. Gautier won’t have the platters poisoned because his ticket to being a lord might die too.”
“All right, that works.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about with proof.”
“How about if I get medicine and have it examined at one of the local apothecaries?”
“Olivier likely won’t attempt to kill you now. You may be useful to Gautier.”
“And when they realize I’m not, they’ll try to off me because I’m in the way. Why not take advantage and possibly make me look a bit sickly? Upset stomach, strange pains…whatever. Olivier would surely think of that, except I won’t take the medicine, and if it’s examined, someone could tell if it’s poisonous.”
“Father will think I put you up to this.”
