Page 69 of Alchemised
He blinked, gave a short nod, and left.
“Lie down,” Stroud said as soon as the door closed. “I want to examine things more closely.”
Helena was so cold, she was grateful to climb onto her bed. Even Stroud’s cold fingers felt warm as she appraised Helena’s limbs and then worked up to her abdomen, pressing down with the heel of her hand, feeling at Helena’s organs.
Helena hadn’t really considered malnutrition as something happening to her. Food had often been in short supply during the war, and those who fought were prioritised; they needed consistent and high-quality food. Noncombatants made do with what was left.
After the Resistance lost the ports, there’d been shortages of almost everything.
Stroud’s resonance made Helena’s stomach lurch. She gagged and tried to sit up.
“None of that. Lie still.”
Before she could protest, Stroud’s fingers were digging in against the base of her skull, and Helena’s eyes rolled back, unconsciousness swallowing her.
WHEN HELENA WOKE, STROUD WAS gone. She felt terrible with a heavy sense of disorientation throughout her body, her vision blurring, and there was a sharply painful bruise near her left hip as if she’d been stabbed with a needle. Helena rubbed at it, trying to think what kind of injections might be necessary to treat malnutrition, but her mind was too foggy for much coherence.
That night, there was a knock, and the maid brought in a tray with a full meal. Meat in a red wine sauce, two different vegetable dishes, one with cheese, and thick slices of soft fluffy bread with butter spread in a generous layer across each one, and even a stewed pear for dessert.
Helena gorged herself, despite knowing she might end up sick from it. She was starving.
She was still eating when Ferron walked in, standing over her to inspect her meal.
“It would seem that I’m obliged to personally see to everything,” he said with a scowl as he stepped back. “You could have mentioned it.”
“If I were to start complaining, the food would not be the first thing I’d bring up,” she said, dragging her spoon down the side of the pear and eating it in tiny savouring bites, refusing to be hurried by him.
He inclined his head, expression still irritated, and went over to the nearer window. Helena deliberately took slower bites, chewing luxuriantly.
When she was finally finished eating, she thought she might pop. She wanted to curl up and sleep, but Ferron nodded pointedly at her head. She sighed and seated herself on the edge of her bed, hating how routine it had all become. Even her dreams felt routine.
She kept dreaming of Ilva and Crowther. And Lila crying. Over and over, the memories seemed to haunt her.
Ferron also seemed to find them interesting. He watched them several times before he moved on to the time she’d spent spying on Lancaster, wondering if he might be there to save her.
He drew his hand away.
As her vision returned, she found herself lying flat on her back in the bed, his face just above hers.
“Lancaster will be one of the Undying soon,” he said. “In belated recognition for his exceptional services during the war.”
There was something sneering in the way he said it, but if he meant to plunge Helena into despair, he failed. If Lancaster wasn’t one of the Undying yet, that made it even more likely that he might be a spy for the Resistance. He’d have to seem trustworthy to get this close to Helena without raising suspicion.
“Are you one?” she asked. She’d assumed for so long, but she’d begun to wonder if he might be something else entirely.
He gave a slow smirk. “What do you think?”
She shook her head, uncertain.
The smirk faded, but he kept looking at her, and his eyes grew darker than she’d ever seen them.
She realised then that she was lying on a bed beneath him. Heat flooded under her skin, and her spine prickled as she sat up quickly, folding her arms.
He stepped back, straightening. “If you have any hopes involving Lancaster, you should let them die.”
LILA WAS SEATED ON THE edge of Helena’s bed, eyebrows knit together, studying her. No scar on her face.
“Are you—” Lila looked away and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Are you not all right, anymore? Is that why you spoke and why there’s all the trainees now?”
