Chapter V
~ The Sincerity of Deep Sleep ~
Crimson lay in her bed unable to sleep. All of her thoughts were about tomorrow. Soon, tomorrow or the day after, Kieran’s men would arrive and take her away. Once that happened, there was little chance that Viktor would find her and she would be lost to him forever. The thought of it was more than should could bear.
She lay there thinking of her conversation earlier with Uric in the courtyard, as she tried to halt the seconds that brought her closer to the morning sun. She struggled with the idea of what she must do.
* * * *
Darya, once again, was sneaking in the hallway. Her heart pounded and thumped in her eardrums with each light and timid step she took towards her mother’s chambers. She had cried most of the night when her mother told her that Sergen was being sent back to the auction house. She convinced herself that her mother had no idea what love was and was just an evil, scorned woman who only thought of proper decorum. She’s heartless!
Darya slowly opened the door to her mother’s bedchamber and snuck in. For the briefest of moments, she thought of killing her mother while she lay in bed asleep. But she controlled herself and made her way to her mother’s dressing area, where she opened her satchel and quietly began filling it with her mother’s gold and silver jewelry.
See what you have driven me to, Mother? She thought, as she placed the last bit of gold into the satchel. Stealing as you have stolen. Sneaking as you have snuck. Loving as you have never loved. She inched her way back to the doorway and looked once more at her parents, then made her way to Sergen’s quarters.
“Sergen, are you ready?” Darya whispered through the door.
“Yes,” Sergen quietly closed the door behind him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked when in the hallway.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I have no fear,” Darya answered and she kissed him on the cheek. She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
In her room, Crimson heard Sergen and Darya whispering. She wondered if they would even make it out of the palace before they had to have each other. That one little stray thought settled her decision. She had to stay here if there were any hope that she would be found by Viktor. She waited until the whispers in the hallway ceased and eased opened her door.
Crimson made her way to the courtyard, then to the yew tree where she picked two red aril’s from a low hanging branch. She thought for a moment, then picked one more and made her way back to Uric’s chamber.
“Uric?”
“Yes, Crimson.”
“Remember when you said you’d thought of taking a long sleep from the cones of the yew tree?”
“Yes.”
“I have three of these red berries. Will they put me to sleep?”
“The seeds will, Crimson. What is it you’re asking?”
“I want to sleep so that Kieran’s men cannot take me.”
Uric sat up. “Dangerous suggestion. One seed may make you sleep, but that same seed could kill you.”
“Then help me?”
“How?”
“Watch over me as I ingest the seeds. I’ll nibble on one just enough, then you should give me more if it appears that I may wake.”
Uric shook his head no, “Crimson, I can’t. What if I kill you?”
“If you don’t, Uric, I’m already dead,” Crimson responded. She took Uric’s hand and placed the berries in his palm. “Please, you must. I can’t bear to go back to the auction house. I’ve learned that love requires sacrifice. I’ve learned that if there is no sacrifice, then there is no love. I’ve learned of the true meaning of sincerity.”
Uric studied the berries in his hand. “Sincerity?”
“Yes, my young German prince. My intent is sincerity and you helping me will be yours. You’ll be saving me, Uric. Saving me from the hell that is the auction house. Saving me in hope that my love, Viktor, will find and rescue me.”
“What if he finds a corpse, Crimson?”
“Then at least,” she pondered aloud, “At least he has found me. Doesn’t matter. This is my only option. Please, you must.”
Uric peeled back the red flesh of the berries and exposed the inner greenish-brown seeds. He began nodding his head yes. “I’ll do it Crimson. May God have mercy on my soul.”
He gave one seed to Crimson and told her to nip off half of it with her teeth and chew it thoroughly before swallowing. Crimson did as instructed and moments later, she fell to her back and began to convulse. Her convulsions were violent at first then she was still. Uric pulled back her blouse and laid his ear to center of her breast. He could hear her heart beating. It was slow, so slow.
He watched her through the night, and when she began to stir and look like she may wake, he rubbed the seed on the grit of her teeth until she fell deeper into sleep. By early morning, she was barely breathing and seemed like she would never return. Her heart was still beating, but only just enough to keep her alive.
Uric thought of Crimson’s plea, “sincerity.” He lay with his head on her stomach, facing her. He brushed back the hair from her forehead and used a cloth to wipe away her sweat. In his mouth, the two remaining seeds swam in the flesh of his cheeks. Then he closed his eyes, bit down, and swallowed them.
“Sincerity,” he thought. “Such an honest term.” He never knew the meaning of the word until he let it all go.
The next morning, the palace was in chaos. The countess screamed down the hallways and berated any servant that dare showed their face.
“Tor!” she screamed. “Darya and Sergen are missing and he stole all of my jewelry.”
Tor rushed into the hallway to find his wife beside herself with anger and guilt. She rushed him when she saw him. Her fists balled up and she hit him on the shoulders and chest. Then she fell to the marble floor and sobbed. “Darya is gone, Tor. Darya is gone. We should’ve never brought them into our home.”
Tor comforted his wife as best as he could. He knelt beside her and took all the blame she unloaded on him. He tried to hug her, to console her, only to be pushed away.
“You must find Darya, Tor!” the countess pleaded.
“I will, my love. I will.”
Tor stood and made his way to the servant chambers where he found Crimson and Uric dead in an apparent suicide. After closer inspection, he determined Crimson was alive, but barely. “Guards!”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Bury the small one. Have a caretaker look after Crimson and bring her back to health. She’s still alive. She may know where my daughter is and I want information from her. Am I understood?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Wait,” Tor said as he felt the mushy berry under his foot. He bent to pick it up. “The yew? Tell the caretaker she has been poisoned by the yew.”
Tor watched as Uric’s body was wrapped in white cloth and taken out the back hallway and he followed. Along a peaceful wooded area behind the palace, a grave had been dug and Tor insisted that Uric be given all charities of death. Tor laid a cross upon Uric’s chest and consecrated the ground with a prayer. When the body disappeared beneath the earth, Tor said a final prayer and checked on Crimson in Darya’s bedroom.
He slowly pushed opened the door. In the dimness, he could barely make out Crimson’s body. The caretaker pushed open the curtains and light flooded the room. Tor saw his prize lying there, motionless. “How is she?” he asked the caretaker.
“She’s in a deep sleep, my lord.”
He inched toward the bed and marveled at the fairness of Crimson’s skin, the locks of her hair neatly covered the pillow and she seemed so peaceful in her deep sleep. “Very well,” Tor said. “Attend to her. I want her alive.”