The table was filled with Leopold’s favorite morning dishes; eggs, fruits and jams, toasted bread, ham and bacon. The smell was delicious, but he’d already eaten and chose to sip a cup of warm cider instead of indulging in another helping. Philip, who sauntered into the room looking as chipper as Leopold had seen him since his arrival, sat down across from him and eagerly filled his plate.
“Good morning, dear cousin,” Leopold said, the cider nearly burning his tongue. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a babe suckling his mother’s teet,” Philip replied, slathering butter on a slice of bread. “Thank you for requesting my presence. It seems I’ve been in my chambers for ages, save the small break to see Matthew off.”
Leopold chuckled, wanting to remind his cousin that stealing Gradenian cavalry uniforms came with a cost, but he said nothing of the sort. “Shouldn’t be long now before Katherine arrives at our door. You will be happy to see, her won’t you?”
Philip had taken a bite of the bread but paused now, staring up at the wooden rafters above them, a smile overtaking his face. “Wait until you see her, Leopold. She’s magnificent. It’s the thought of taking her at last that’s kept me going through all of this—losing my kingdom, my home. I’m not saying it’s worth it, mind you.” He pointed the tip of the knife in Leopold’s direction, a gesture the king did not appreciate but ignored. “But it is something.”
“I am curious to see her for myself,” Leopold replied, taking another sip as Philip devoured the eggs and ham on his plate. Leopold let him eat for a few moments, watching how quickly he cleared his plate. Satisfied that Philip had had enough to meet his purposes, Leopold changed the subject. “Tell me, dear cousin, how long did it take for you to arrange the infiltration of Castle Ringley?”
Philip’s fork was full, but he answered the question. “A few months, I suppose. I didn’t handle the details myself. My man, Charles, took care of all of that.” He looked sorrowful for a moment, and Leopold imagined this Charles must’ve passed. He didn’t care. Philip took another bite.
“Interesting. And what exactly was the price you spent acquiring the services of the castle chef?”
A chuckle rang out of Philip’s mostly-full mouth. “I ended up paying him nothing, as his services were to be compensated on completion of the task. Since Matthew killed him before I had a chance to pay, there was little I could do. It was far easier to slip poison into the king’s dinner than I would’ve ever imagined.”
The irony washed over Leopold, and he stifled a smile. “When did you become aware that the queen had survived?”
Philip grunted. “Not long after. A few of our scouts saw them taking her to Arteria. We were unable to hold Ringley, despite the inferiority of the Zurconian Army. They pressed us back. With no leader, they are in a state of chaos at the moment, though Caleb has lent them assistance. I suppose Matthew will take back the throne once he is well.” Philip shook his head, stabbing a piece of pork more forcefully than necessary. “Perhaps our next endeavor can be to take Zurconia. With your forces, it should be easy enough. You could put me on that throne, and we could attack Arteria from both sides.”
Leopold’s eyebrows raised. The idea that he would ever use his forces in such a wasteful endeavor was ridiculous, not to mention it seemed Philip had an unrealistic impression of how strong the Gradenian forces truly were. There was no need to exhaust himself explaining under the circumstances, though. “Something to think about.” He drew another pull from his mug, watching Philip’s eye begin to twitch as beads of sweat appeared along his hairline.
Philip finally noticed for the first time that his cousin wasn’t eating. “Are you not partaking in the spread?” He shoveled a bite of egg into his mouth, his hand shaking as he did so.
Leopold shrugged, bridging his hands in front of his chin and watching with fascination as Philip began to deteriorate. The former king was noticing now but had yet to put the pieces together. “Tell me, Philip, what was it the chef used that killed Queen-Mother Beatrice so quickly and left Margaret near death? Was it mandrake?”
The clatter of Philip’s fork as it hit his plate echoed around the room. He made a gasping sound, the food in his mouth, mostly unchewed, falling out as he tried to suck in air. His eyes were wide as he stared at Leopold. He’d finally sorted it all out.
Leopold continued, allowing himself the pleasure of a small smile. “My understanding is that it causes convulsions, vomiting, coughing up blood, and very often instant death. Unless, of course, one is given an antidote quickly. Isn’t that right, my dear cousin?”
Vomit spewed from Philip’s lips, coating the table and dripping down his chin. Leopold fixated on the dark red patches, imagining that was the blood he’d just spoken of. Philip heaved again, his eyes bulging as his hands grasped the table, trying to keep him upright. Leopold pushed his chair from the table as Philip fought to keep his eyes on the king’s face, a silent question hanging between them.
“Yes, an antidote just like this one.” Leopold lifted the vial he held in his hand. Philip made a small noise in the back of his throat, likely a plea for help. Standing, Leopold approached him as Philip lost his fight against the dizziness and slipped onto the floor, landing in a pile of his own vomit. Leopold crouched next to him, hovering near his face, the vial in clear sight.
Philip reached for it, “Please,” he stammered, trickles of vomit and blood spilling out the side of his mouth.
Leopold put his hand to his ear, as if he hadn’t heard him.
Philip managed to force it out again, “Please!” He gagged, wheezing and spewing as he slumped back on the rug, choking up bile and fighting for air
“What’s that, dear cousin?” A wide grin parted Leopold’s lips. “You want the antidote? That is too bad; you see, I just don’t have enough to spare. As a king, you never know when someone might try to poison you. Rest assured, the lovely Princess Katherine, whose arrival should be any time now, will be well taken care of. My most sincere regards to the devil. Tell him that I’m coming for him. But not today. Today, my dear cousin, you go alone.”
Philip’s thrashing lessoned, the vomiting subsided, but he continued to stare up at Leopold, wide eyed, the life draining out of him. Leopold wanted to make sure the last thing Philip would see was the smile of the man who would claim his wife.
Rather than watching his sister be carried away by the vile likes of Leopold, James had ridden off the moment he told her goodbye, needing to take immediate action in an effort to assure himself they would get her back as quickly as possible. Despite riding away from her, toward the Nadoria-Gradenia border, he was able to use the time it took to reach Eleanora’s army to focus on strategy, not the anger that consumed him.
He pulled into camp a few hours before the sun came up, handing his horse off to an attendant and seeking out the queen. When he was told that she was still sleeping, he replied, “Wake her.”
Eleanora was fully dressed when he entered the tent, her long, blonde hair down, but military boots on her feet. He imagined she’d been sleeping fully-clothed in case Leopold attempted a preemptive attack in the middle of the night. She embraced him but knew something was the matter before he even spoke. “Where is Katherine?” she asked. “I know she wished to stay with Caleb, but your expression worries me.”
“Perhaps you should sit,” he advised, wishing Kenneth were present to help calm her, but he was not. His sister preferred to sleep alone. Still, her husband was often the only one who could keep the queen’s temper under control.
“Is she well?”
“For now, yes.” James stepped away from her and ran a hand through his hair.
Eleanora gasped behind him. “He did it, didn’t he?” When he turned to look at her, his sister’s eyes were on fire. “That bastard agreed to the trade!”
“Not exactly.” James reached out a hand to still her, but it didn’t meet its mark as she whirled away. “It was Katherine herself who agreed. Believe me, Eleanora, I did everything I could to try to stop it. But that little sister of ours is almost as stubborn as....” He stopped, not wanting to insult her by finishing the sentence. “She insisted, saying that it was the only way Matthew could return to his family.”
“Matthew be damned!” the queen shouted. “How dare Caleb allow our sister to put herself in harm’s way once more! This is despicable!”
James tried not to dwell on the fact that it was Eleanora herself who had created this situation, sending Katherine into the middle of the fray between Clovington and Arteria to begin with. Bringing it up would do him no good. “Regardless of who we choose to blame, my Queen, the situation is what it is. We must do something about it, to get her back.”
“Oh, I will get her back, and when I do, you can be sure that Caleb of Arteria will never set eyes on our younger sister again!” Her arms were flailing out of her control, and James thought she may clear the table that held the few comfort items she’d brought with her—a brush, a few combs, a bottle of perfume.
“Eleanora, I understand your anger at Caleb, but believe me, he didn’t want her to go either. And... you should see her when they are together. I’ve never seen....” Eleanora wasn’t listening. She was pacing, her arms folded now but her chin set. “She’s speaking.”
The queen froze, her back to him. Slowly, she turned and looked him in the eye. “Katherine is... speaking?”
“Yes, and quite well, too, I might add. He did that. Caleb managed it, one way or another.” James had missed many details regarding what had transpired between them, including how Katherine had gotten the marks on her wrists and fingers, but he assumed it wasn’t his business. It was obvious to him that Caleb loved her and would take excellent care of her—once he had her back. “Eleanora, we must assist in Katherine’s recovery, but she insisted you know he is not to blame for any of this.”
Eleanora’s expression changed, her anger morphing into something else. She ran a hand across her forehead, smoothing back her hair, and cleared her throat. “I always blamed myself for her silence.” James’s eyebrows arched. He hadn’t known that, though he felt a similar guilt. “I wished... I wished I could’ve better explained to her... If she hadn’t shouted at that moment, our forces may have ridden past our location, and we’d all be dead. That man, the murderer, I believe he saw us before she screamed. Don’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Mother... she would’ve done anything for any of us, especially Katherine, her precious little girl. If she could’ve spoken before she faded away, I believe Mother would’ve told her all was well, that she was thankful her children would survive.”
“The burden she has carried with her all of these years has finally been lifted. Who are we to try to keep her from the one person who could make her see past all of that?” He watched as Eleanora dropped her eyes to the ground. “Let us focus on getting her back, sister. We have an opportunity. Your forces are far closer to the Gradenian border than I realized. We can use that as an advantage while Caleb gathers strength. Leopold will be expecting him to invade. He won’t know what to think of us. We have a chance to take advantage of his own scheme.”
A fire lit behind her eyes, one he recognized—determination. “Leopold has asked me to align with him as he’s managed to rescue Katherine from the Arterians. If I were to accept his offer, he will trust us as we cross his border, even invite us in.”
“Precisely.” A solid nod confirmed what he’d been thinking as he rode through the night.
“Won’t he assume my compliance means Katherine is his to claim—or Philip’s?”
James shook his head. “Katherine has her own plan to deal with that.”