‘Please.’ I force my voice to be softer this time. ‘He’s dying; let me help him.’
For a moment I think it’s hopeless, but perhaps the guard senses my despair because he walks over to the chest and picks up the tonic.
I exhale. ‘Thank you.’
But as he stretches to pass it to me a voice cuts through the air.
‘Don’t you dare give that killer her poison.’
The guard sheepishly steps back from me, bowing his head as the King strides into the room, and my heart falls when I see Braydon with him. He clearly went to fetch the King the moment he saw what had happened.
‘Get her away from my son,’ the King says.
Braydon and the other guard move towards me.
‘If I let go of this, he’ll bleed to death in seconds,’ I warn, and they hesitate. Torin’s turning a frightening colour and it’s not hard to believe death is imminent for their prince.
‘You.’ The King points to the older guard. ‘Take her place.’
The man swallows nervously as he stands beside me. I position his hands down on the blood-soaked sheet.
‘Press hard. Don’t let go.’ My command is laced with threat. Torin’s life depends on it.
Braydon grabs my arm and pulls me off the bed.
‘I didn’t do this,’ I say to the King. ‘But I can save him, if you let me.’
The King ignores me and turns to Braydon. ‘You say you left her in the west wing?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty. She must have climbed through the window.’
‘I followed an intruder! He fled out of that window,’ I say, gesturing to the far wall, where the open window swings in the night breeze. ‘You can still catch him.’
The look the King gives me says everything. They’re not searching for anyone else. They have their suspect.
‘Arrest this traitor.’
Braydon wrenches my hands together and clamps irons round them. I don’t fight, but only because the last thing I want is for the guard to move from Torin’s side. So for now I’ll let them do this. As long as he lives.
The sight of the King’s healer finally arriving does nothing to lessen my dread. Old, frail and looking worryingly dishevelled, the healer is barely awake, until the sight of the Prince seems to shake the sleep from him, and he hurries to his royal patient.
‘Add silverbud and swampnettle to your poultice,’ I say as I’m dragged from the room. ‘And lace your tonic with whiterust.’
I doubt my advice will be heeded but I don’t trust the old remedies the healer uses. They’re largely ineffectual. Torin has only slightly more chance of surviving under his care than with no care at all.
Braydon is joined by another five guards to escort me and despite the circumstances I feel a shard of satisfaction. They’ve remembered who I am after all. Not just some woman who happened to marry their prince, but the Viper. They should be worried. If I wanted, they’d be dead in minutes. Fortunately for them I don’t want them dead. I’m not leaving this castle until I know Torin’s going to be all right.
I’m taken down to the dungeons and thrown into a cold cell. The summer castle isn’t often used, so the dungeons are mostly empty with only a few neighbours to witness my arrival – a relief since I’m the one who’s been catching most of the prisoners in the Isles recently.
As Braydon pulls the padlock through the chain, I grab his arm. ‘I didn’t do this,’ I say. ‘The man who did is still out there. He might come back. Whatever you think of me, promise you’ll keep Torin safe.’
Braydon rips himself free from my grasp and spits in my face. ‘Viper bitch. You’ll hang for this.’
I give no reaction outwardly, but inside I’m raging.
Alone in my cell, I take a moment to consider my situation. Shivering in only my thin shift, the immensity of what’s happened begins to sink in.
Someone tried to kill Torin. Someone exceptionally skilled. And the King is framing me for the crime.
I sit down.
This is bad. On so many levels. Who could want Torin dead? Who would benefit from his death? The most obvious person is the King, but for all his many faults I can’t believe him capable of this. Of having his own son murdered. If not him, though, who? I didn’t recognise the would-be assassin, but it’s possible he was working with the stranger who shadowed the evening’s events.
But then, apart from the three guards, there was no reason for anyone to suppose I wasn’t in the bedchamber with my new husband. Surely the presence of the Viper would cause most people to reconsider an attempt? Unless the assassin was there for me. I can easily believe more people would wish me dead than Torin.
The war I’ve waged against the bandits has been bloody and it’s been brutal. My aim always was – and remains – to take prisoners, to bring them to justice for their crimes, but the reality is they’re prepared to fight to the death and my crew are the best fighters there are. Though I’ve lost a few Snakes, it’s been nothing compared to the losses of the bandits, and while my crew celebrate our victories, they leave me unsettled and uncertain. Bronn thinks it’s because I’m still afraid of becoming like Adler, but it’s more than that. It’s not quite the justice I imagined bringing to the East.
Regardless, there are many bandits still to catch, including the most deadly and notorious group, led by a brute named Karn. They have managed to elude our every attempt to find them, so strong is their network of terror. The closest we got was discovering a stash of their weaponry and taking it for ourselves. It wouldn’t be too difficult to believe Karn would send someone to kill me – I’m sure he’d love the Viper title for his own – but what is harder to believe is that any of his men would be skilled enough to catch a blade like that.
I slide down on to the cold ground, my foot tapping nervously as I try not to think about Torin. Did the healer get to him in time? Or is it already over? Burying my head in my hands, I bite back tears. I’ve already lost Grace, my sister in all but blood. I can’t lose him too.
Should I have used magic to help him? Could I have done? Since I left Esther on the Eighth Isle, I haven’t had time to think about that side of myself, of all the possibilities I gave up when I turned down her offer to teach me to become a Mage. Or maybe I just haven’t allowed myself to dwell on it. I made a choice to leave the West, to focus on bringing peace to the East instead, and there has been no place for magic in that fight. I buried that part of me, the wild, uncontrollable force that I fear so much, that I desire so much.
I bang my head hard against the wall, desperate to free my mind of these maddening thoughts.
No, my urge to use magic was simply a foolish impulse. I wouldn’t have known where to start – a truth that claws at my guts. If I’d allowed Esther to teach me as she offered, could I have healed Torin?
There are no answers. I can only wait. I will do nothing until I know Torin is going to live.
When dawn breaks, I hear footsteps approaching.
The sight of my visitor causes my heart to pound, but I don’t move.
‘You can have five minutes,’ the gaoler says to him, before leaving us alone.
And I run to grasp Sharpe’s hands through the bars.
‘How is he?’