A Touch of Poison Read online

  “I’m serious, Gwen,” said Rhosyn. “It’s awful how he treats you! I mean, sure he’s always been a monster, but it’s never been this bad before, has it? With all the changes he’s made, I don’t even know what’s what anymore. It’s like he’s gone insane!”

  Gwen swiped at a stray clump of grass with her boot. “It’s probably from worrying about all that stuff he’s been arranging. There have been some big changes. And I was in the library too. You know how upset he gets about that.”

  “Don’t you dare make excuses for him, Gwen!”

  “Oh, I’m not. I’m just trying to understand what sets him off, though there never seems to be much point, does there? He’s lost a bit of weight, looks jumpy and nervous all the time. He’s quicker to anger now too, so I’d watch what you say to him, if you’re unfortunate enough to see him.”

  “I’ve never held anything back when talking to him before.” Rhosyn sent Gwen a sidelong grin. “Why start now?”

  Gwen couldn’t help but smile back. Rhosyn’s conspiratorial grin always reminded Gwen of how they’d become friends in the first place.

  “He still hasn’t forgotten, you know,” Gwen said. “In fact, just mentioning your name is usually enough to make him scowl, most days.”

  “He told me I’d been hired as your confidant, your lady-in-waiting, and that I should gain your trust. Then, a week later, he’s demanding I betray that confidence and tell him everything we talked about? How could you ever trust me if I did something like that?”

  “I think he’s more upset that he believed all the tall tales you fed him, actually.”

  Rhosyn stood a little straighter and affected a demure expression. “Highness, Princess Gwenwyn is displaying all manner of strange behaviour! Why, just this morning she spent an hour apologizing to an apple before feeding it to one of the horses. And then later she lay in a field and began naming the clouds as they went by, holding small funerals and birthday parties for them. And then—”

  Gwen giggled. “He got so mad when he found out.”

  “It’s his own fault; he shouldn’t have hired an orphan girl as your lady-in-waiting. If there’s one thing I learned at the orphanage, it’s that you never shared private talks with the keepers, or with anyone. And remember how bad things were back then, how unhappy you were? You needed someone to confide in so badly, and I wasn’t about to let your father discover some new way to make you miserable.”

  “And as punishment, he sent you out here.”

  “I’d hardly call it punishment,” said Rhosyn. “Given how miserly your father can be, I doubt he’d tolerate employing anyone whose only job was to be your friend. If I hadn’t been assigned to the stables, he’d probably have me working as a chambermaid or some such thing anyway. And at least this way I don’t have to be anywhere near your father when he loses his temper. It’s not like he’d ever actually come out here.”

  “True,” Gwen admitted.

  “I do have to ask you something though,” Rhosyn said, her expression and tone becoming serious. “You knew your father was getting edgy and irritable lately, what with all the changes he’s been making and the repair work on the castle. And we both know he hates it when you go to the library, probably because he’s afraid you might actually learn something. Being in the library, the accident with the maid, it almost feels like you did that on purpose, like you were trying to test the waters a little.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get in trouble! Touching that maid was a complete accident—I would have been able to sneak out of the library unseen if it weren’t for what happened to that poor girl.” Gwen sighed, tugging on her gloves once more to ensure her sleeves were tucked away inside them. “I was in there because father had meetings all morning, and I thought I could use some of that time in the library.”

  “Use it for what?”

  Gwen gave a light shrug. “I was looking through the herbology stuff again.”

  “You’ve been over that stuff more times than I can count, Gwen. He may be a monster, but he’s not stupid. You mentioned he’s already removed the more interesting books from the library once he found out you were poking around them. If there’s a book that contains anything at all about that stuff he makes you eat with every meal, you don’t think he’s going to leave it lying around the library, do you?”

  “No, but there are hints where this dull book refers to that dull book written by this boring fellow, things like that. I keep thinking one of these days I’ll get lucky, find a hidden reference or something somewhere,” Gwen said, shrugging once more. “Then, when I got tired of picking through those books, I found one that distracted me a little.”

  “Let me guess.” Rhosyn cast her friend a reproachful look. “A fairy tale.”

  Gwen nodded, feeling foolish. “I hadn’t read this one before, and I just couldn’t seem to put it down. I was being stupid. It got me all emotional, too.”

  “Emotional?”

  “Crying. It was such a beautiful story. I ended up staying way too long, and not paying attention when I should have been.” Gwen looked thoughtful for a moment. “I remember I was feeling very emotional when the maid walked by, and I swear she barely even touched me, but,” Gwen’s eyes went wide and she lowered her voice to a whisper, “you should see what happened to her arm. One of the worst I’d ever seen! Do you think my touch gets stronger when I’m sad, or angry, or emotional?”

  “Could be. Really, we don’t know all that much about it, so we can’t say one way or another.”

  “True,” said Gwen. The two of them had only recently started researching Gwen’s condition, covertly of course, and so far it had yielded them nothing. “I do feel awful about that maid though. I’m just glad she’s going to be okay. Did you manage to slip her that brooch I gave you before she left?”

  “Yes, I got it to her.”

  “Good. She probably still hates me, and it likely won’t sell for much, barely any money at all, but….” Gwen sighed and shrugged at the same time.

  “Ah,” Rhosyn said warningly, holding up a finger, “I told you, don’t go putting down the nice things you do, or shrug them off as nothing. Those are the echoes of your father talking; get out of that habit. You’re a wonderful person Gwen, and you deserve to feel good about some of the things you do. I guarantee you gave her more than your father did.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not really thinking too straight. He brought up Rolf, and he hadn’t done that in years. I guess I wasn’t ready for him to twist that particular knife.” Gwen shook her head, as though getting rid of unpleasant thoughts. “Bah, that’s enough talk about that, I think. On to happier subjects!” Gwen gave Rhosyn a knowing smile and arched a solitary eyebrow. “Are things going well with a certain young man?”

  Rhosyn frowned at her.

  “C’mon, Gwen. Can we not talk about that? Please?”

  “I want to know everything, you strumpet!” Gwen teased. “He came over to visit a couple of days ago, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “Well? What happened? Tell me!”

  “Gwen, just reading a fairy tale in the library was enough to reduce you to tears.” Looking uneasy, Rhosyn twirled a stray lock of hair with her finger. “I don’t think that me talking about my relationship with Darin is a good idea.”

  “Oooooh.” Gwen leered at Rhosyn, clapping her hands together gleefully. “It’s a relationship now, is it?”

  “Gwen—”

  “Rosie, my life has been a tragedy for as long as I can remember. My mother died giving birth to me, my father hates me, and as punishment for everything, he’s given me a condition that’s like the realm’s most lethal chastity belt. I’ve never been kissed, and I never will be. I wouldn’t even have known what a hug was like if it weren’t for you. You’re my best friend — my only friend! I certainly dump enough of my life into your lap, and I don’t d
o it just because it’s your job to listen. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get to share your life, or things that are important to you. Friends share that stuff. Especially the happy stuff.”

  “I just feel bad, like it’s not fair,” Rhosyn said.

  “I understand what you’re saying, and I don’t care.” Gwen gave her friend a knowing smirk. “Spill. Or I’ll force the details out of you, make it a royal decree or something.”

  “Well,” said Rhosyn, grinning like sun after fog, “I have been dying to talk about it.”

  Gwen looked at her and made an impatient get-on-with-it gesture.

  “Okay, he came over the other day, right? He knew I looked after the horses, because I’d told him from before, and he was all excited to see them, but,” Rhosyn’s smile was mischievously amused, “he didn’t know I could ride. He grew up on a farm, next to a ranch. Nothing but boys working it, and he never met a girl who rode horses before. You should have seen his face when I hopped up on Winter. His eyes practically fell out of his head!”

  “I thought you said he was smart. How does he think someone could tend the royal stables and not know how to ride?”

  “I think it was how he was raised, mostly. That, and I was a little vague on the details of my job when I first met him. I’ve found that if men discover that I work for the king, it’s harder to tell what they’re more interested in: me, or some of the perks that might come with me.”

  “Gotcha. So, you went riding?”

  “Yup. Took Winter and Diego and followed the path up into the hills, stopped at the meadow you and I usually ride by.” Rhosyn smiled and sighed. “He’d brought a picnic basket with him. We spread a blanket out, ate a little bit, and just lay there talking the whole afternoon. He’s got this look in his eye whenever I’m talking, like he’s hanging on every word I’m about to say. Gorgeous blue eyes.”

  “How long were you out there for?” Gwen asked.

  “All afternoon. Would have been longer, except I’d already pushed my afternoon chores to that evening, and a few of them couldn’t wait.” Rhosyn smiled, giving her a knowing look. “He really wants to kiss me, I can tell. I think I’ve intimidated him a little, so he’s not quite sure of himself or something. Sometimes when we were talking to each other, there’d be these gaps where we were just staring at each other, and I kept thinking, Oooo, he’s gonna do it now!” She shrugged. “He didn’t though, a perfect gentleman the whole time.”

  “Darn the luck, hey?”

  Rhosyn laughed. “Well, I was a little disappointed. I mean, this wasn’t our first date, but it was the first time we were alone together. Maybe I wasn’t giving strong enough hints.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come around, Rosie. He’d be crazy not to want to kiss you. Maybe he just didn’t want to risk ruining the afternoon; it does sound romantic. I can picture it: the two of you, riding out on horseback to a secluded meadow, laying in the sun, hand in hand, just looking at each other and talking, and I’m sure you’ll both make each other very happy, and—”

  Gwen found she couldn’t hold her tears in any longer, and the last of her words transformed themselves into a sob.

  “Oh, hon!” Rhosyn quickly grabbed hold of Gwen’s shoulders and pulled her close, hugging her tightly. “Oh, you see? I knew it was a bad idea.”

  “No, no,” Gwen sniffed, forcing herself to smile and trying to laugh so it would be heard in her voice. “I do want to hear the details, Rosie. I’m just, I don’t know. I’m all over the place today. But I’m happy for you, Rosie. I really am!” Gwen hugged her friend fiercely.

  The muscles under Gwen’s fingertips bunched up, and she felt her friend stiffen the tiniest bit.

  In a panic, Gwen quickly pulled away and checked the clothing that covered her from head to toe, hoping desperately that she hadn’t inadvertently touched her friend. Finding no exposed skin that could account for Rhosyn’s reaction, Gwen looked at her, confused.

  With her jaw clenched, Rhosyn slowly pulled the collar of her blouse away from her skin, uncovering an angry red circle at the base of her neck. To Gwen, it looked to be the size of a pinkie nail.

  Or a teardrop.

  “Oh, no no no!” Gwen cried out, aghast, her hand covering her mouth. “Not again! Oh, I’m so sorry Rosie!”

  “You didn’t mean it,” Rhosyn said through gritted teeth, her free hand already reaching for the small jar of salve she always kept with her. “I’ve had plenty worse than that one. A bit soaked through my clothes, that’s all. No big deal.”

  “It’s always a big deal, Rhosyn! Oh, Goddess, why is it that no matter how hard I try I always end up hurting people?”

  “Gwen, I know you try, and I know you care, so stop beating yourself up about it. I’m the one who hugged you, so it’s just as much my fault that it happened. It was an accident.” Rhosyn applied a dab of salve to the scarlet welt and spread it carefully. “So, no more talking about me and Darin, alright?”

  “No, I’ll be okay. I do want to talk about you two, because it does make me happy for you. Despite all evidence to the contrary.” Gwen smiled wanly at her friend as she wiped another tear from her cheek. “It’s that stupid fairy tale, I think. What I really need is to start avoiding books featuring a dashing prince, or that start with the words Once upon a time.”

  Chapter 3

  Gwen made absolutely certain her arms were properly covered for dinner that evening.

  After her lengthy meeting with Rhosyn, she’d changed out of her riding clothes and into a heavy gown with a lace front, the sleeves of which were long, and finished in a point with a little loop of cloth through which she put her middle finger. Very, very long sleeves; her arms practically disappeared in them.

  Then, although they didn’t really go with the gown, she’d donned her thin grey gloves as well, just to be safe.

  Gwen hadn’t seen the king since their last encounter, and there was no telling what might set him off during dinner. Better safe than sorry.

  She was calmer now, she felt. That, or she’d simply cried herself out, and had run completely out of tears.

  And she was famished! It was such a strange thing, this poisonous curse of hers. On days when she didn’t see much of her father, she’d often find herself peckish at best, half tempted to skip meals entirely. However, on days when she got emotional and upset, by suppertime she often felt like she could eat half a roast boar herself, chestnut stuffing and all. Even if it had been sprinkled with that horrid herb her father made her eat.

  Actually, she’d noticed something else odd about that herb. Sure it tasted like chalk mixed with rancid butter, but during really bad days she’d discovered she didn’t notice the taste all that much, or didn’t seem to mind it. On particularly awful days, she’d find herself practically craving the stuff.

  Like she was now.

  Gwen speculated as she adjusted her gloves. She wished she could find out more about that strange, blueish herb. What happened to you when you ate it? Could its effects be undone? What was the stuff even named? It was difficult enough for her to research something covertly, but researching something for which she didn’t even know the name? It was nearly impossible!

  She gave herself a quick inspection in her dull metal mirror, turning to the side to ensure she’d done up the laces in the back properly, took a deep breath and began the long journey to the dining hall.

  Once she’d gone down the four flights of stairs and entered the main hallway, Gwen paused for a moment, then opted to take her usual route past the kitchens. Almost immediately she encountered two servants she didn’t recognize, and she gave them a quick smile and a nod as she walked by.

  One acknowledged her with a wary look, almost fearful. The other didn’t acknowledge her in any way, but simply stood there in the hallway, head slightly bowed.

  Odd, she thought.

  Even stranger was the fact that
it wasn’t an isolated incident. Every servant or guard she passed by either refused to acknowledge her in any way, or reacted as though they were suddenly afraid to attract her notice. Each encounter left her feeling more and more uneasy, and it soon felt to Gwen as if the cheerful smile she maintained was nothing more than a mask draped over her face. She practically flew down the final two corridors, desperate to end the whole ordeal, wishing for nothing more than to get away from the numerous covert stares, the whispered murmurs spoken just out of earshot.

  Another unpleasant surprise awaited her in the dining hall. Leaning against the back wall next to the fireplace, arms crossed and looking supremely relaxed, was Anifail, captain of the king’s guard.

  He regarded Gwen as she entered, his wavy blond hair partially obscuring his gaunt features. He didn’t stand at attention or offer a salute as the other guardsmen might. He never did, not even for her father. Whenever she looked at him she thought of weasels in hen-houses.

  “Captain Anifail,” she said. “Back from a hard day spent threatening townspeople, I see. Am I to presume you’ll be joining my father and me this evening?”

  Smirking slightly, he gave her a half-nod of assent.

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll be here shortly. By the way, you may want to change where you’re standing,” Gwen said, motioning towards the far corner. “Maybe move a bit to your right, over on the other side of the fireplace.”

  Frowning, Anifail gave her a puzzled look.

  “Well, Father’s aim has been a little off lately, and when he tosses bones and scraps behind him they’ve been landing over there.” Gwen gestured at the corner once more. “I mean, I’m assuming that’s the reason my father’s favourite lapdog would show up to the dining room at this hour.”