110 Cursed

Talia gasped and sat bolt upright. She glanced down at Prince Mikhail, who still had not woken, and took a few deep breaths. A thought had occurred to her while resting that almost made her want to run from the room and find Ilya.

Ilya had shown no sign of pain or injury!

Prince Mikhail had been brought in practically on the brink of death, in what was surely, the most excruciating sort of pain and Ilya had not even flinched!

There was something off about that. When she'd given Prince Mikhail the truth potion, Ilya had stumbled into the room almost immediately after, in obvious pain. He had known immediately that the Prince had been poisoned, and had almost died himself.

Yet this time, she had likely been with Ilya at the very moment Prince Mikhail had been attacked and he had given no indication that he had sensed anything or that he was in any pain.

Talia slid off the bed and began to pace the length of the room nervously. The situation made no sense. As far as she knew, Prince Mikhail was bound to the Emperor, and Ilya was bound to Prince Mikhail. Her understanding was that if the master of the bond was injured, the same injury would occur to the slave. It was a clever failsafe to make sure that the 'slave' did not revolt.

Ilya had not seemed to be at all surprised at this turn of events, and yet... perhaps it was only that in the excitement of the moment, he did not even realize the significance!

However, even if she were to question him about it, his marks would prevent him from answering. Unless...

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned toward the door. She could probably ask the soldiers and healer outside for anything, saying that it was a Vezdan medical treatment for Prince Mikhail. In fact, with Prince Mikhail being unconcious, it was the perfect time to try using the truth serum on Ilya. With any luck, the Prince would never even know. In fact, there was no time to waste, Ilya could return at any moment!

Talia hurried to the door and threw it open. Four soldiers in Bludston colors jumped to attention.

"The Prince is in need of a soothing tonic to assist him in resting as he heals," she explained quickly. "I require supplies from the apothecary. I shall need a quarter dale of powdered kesh, a small piece of hutteroot, a bottle of goat's milk, and a few dried leaves of yeksprig... and also if they have garad seeds, maybe a quarter dale of those as well."

The soldiers exchanged glances with each other, and then with the physician.

"Must I repeat myself?" Talia snapped.

"Er... my lady," the physician stepped forward. "Hutteroot and garad seeds are only available at the request of a physician."

"And what do you call yourself?" Talia scowled at him.

"My lady, please, if I could but examine our Prince briefly, I would then be able to--"

"What is all this?" interrupted a commanding voice.

Talia glanced up to see that the Emperor's steward was striding down the hall toward them.

"I asked for an explanation. What is the meaning of all this?" he demanded, lifting his chin to glare down his nose at Talia.

When no one spoke, Talia heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Do you pretend that the Emperor is unaware of his brother's injuries?" She frowned. "I am only trying to-"

"Watch your tongue when you speak to me, girl!" The steward snapped. "At the moment, your status is no better than a slave of our Emperor's harem. Now, stand aside!"

Talia planted her feet and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

"Prince Mikhail has ordered that no one be allowed entry!" She informed him coldly.

"And the Emperor has ordered that I speak to our Prince's physician and see for myself the extent of his injuries," the steward smirked. "Of course our Emperor is very concerned, now stand aside."

"I am the physician treating Prince Mikhail and I can tell you myself that reports of his injuries have been greatly exaggerated!" Talia assured him quickly.

The steward glanced from the bloodied tunic of the guard who had carried Prince Mikhail to the trail of dried blood on the floor and snorted.

"You'll forgive me, of course, for following the command of our Emperor, and confirming this for myself. Move her out of my way," he ordered the soldiers.

Because the men wore Bludston colors and were under the command of Prince Mikhail, they hesitated for a moment, glancing between Talia and the steward.

"Our Emperor commands that I enter this room! Move her now!" He repeated, raising his voice.

The nearesr soldier, gave Talia an apologetic tight-lipped smile and reached toward her, but Talia was quicker, stepping out of his reach behind the door.

"Fine!" She snapped. "See for yourself.

The Prince is trying to rest to regain his strength. He will not be happy that you have entered his quarters. On your own head be it!" She threatened, doing her best to sound angry and not afraid.

The steward entered the room and strode purposefully across the room toward the bed. The soldiers and physician followed meekly in his wake.

"You see?" Talia called hurrying after him. "Sleeping, just as I said!"

Prince Mikhail lay on his stomach exactly where he had been placed. Luckily she had covered him with a clean blanket, but the sheets beneath and around him still bore the dark stains of his blood.

The steward did not hesitate to pull back the blanket, and drew in a sharp breath at what he saw.

"He rests, just as I have said," Talia informed him, trying to remain calm. " You see for yourself that he is resting comfortably, and is not in any immediate danger. You should report to your Emperor that all is-"

"What are these marks?" The steward hissed, turning at once to glare at Talia. "What have you done?"

"I... I... don't know what... what you think I-"

"Seize her!" The steward roared. "The former princess of Vezda has attempted to harm our Prince with witchcraft!"

"Witchcraft?!" Talia shrieked. "Witchcraft indeed! Look at the rest of him! Look at the marks on his arms and shoulders and chest! If anyone had attempted to harm Prince Mikhail with witchcraft it was your Emp-"

THWACK!

Talia hit the floor before she even registered what had happened. The steward moved surprisingly quick for once so rotund, striking her across the face with such force that she was knocked off her feet.

The room spun slightly around her, but it would not do for her to loose her wits now. She was in real danger. If only Ilya would return!

"This isn't witchcraft. It is a traditional Vezdan healing process for removing toxins from a wound," she answered quickly, her voice calmer and more respectful now. "His highness was indeed injured quite severely, but you can see for yourself that he is now resting comfortably and has no fever or any signs of-"

"She asked for garad seeds and hutteroot," the physician interrupted. "She ordered us to retrieve them without allowing me to see the patient for myself. Seeing him now, I cannot think of why she would demand such strong and dangerous medicines for one who has no need of-"

"Witchcraft!" The steward repeated, pausing to glance at each of the soldiers in turn. "This foreign witch means to harm our Prince and each of you were perfectly content to stand around and allow her to do so!" He accused.

"Liar! Talia hissed, climbing to her feet. "You damnable liar! From where did your Prince receive those stab wounds? It wasn't by my hand! These men saw the state he arrived in! He was at death's door! If I wanted to harm Prince Mikhail all I had to do was stand aside and do nothing! Where do you think he got those wounds? He was with this man the last time I saw him! The guilty one will throw out any outrageous accusation to distract you from the truth! You have no written order from the Emperor! You have no right to-"

This time when the blow came, it was even more forceful. The steward closed his fist, and when it connected with the side of Talia's face her vision exploded into stars.

It took her a second to realize that the pained scream she heard was her own as she hit the floor.

As she struggled to sit upright, she could hear the voice of the steward above her:

"Arrest her and bring her to the dungeon. The Emperor will want to question her about this himself. Well? What are you waiting for? Do as I say this instant! What are you..."

The shocked silence that followed caused Talia to glance up.

Prince Mikhail's feet were on the floor!

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his hand pressed to his head. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his hand and raised his head to look at all of them.

The soldiers around her immediately dropped to one knee.

Prince Mikhail's eyes went from the steward's shocked expression to his men kneeling in front of him, to the physician bowing and mumbling something incoherently and finally landed on Talia who was still on the floor clutching her injured face.

He frowned.

"Did you... lay your hand on the Princess of Vezda?" He asked in his gravelly, tired voice, and turned again to look at the steward.

"My prince, perhaps you are unaware, but this slave..."

As the steward began to stumble over his explanation, Mikhail heaved another sigh and slowly stood. He took a few steps, and then bent, snatching Ilya's bloodied sword from the floor where Talia had discarded it earlier.

"Close your eyes," he said to her in his same calm and tired tone.

Confused, Talia glanced up to see the look of annoyance on the steward's face. She almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Talia closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of sharp metal slicing through meat and then the wet thump of something heavy hitting the floor.