Once Harriet has started the fire, she approaches me. “Would you like something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry, but thank you.”
“You have to eat,” she insists. “You have to take this, as well.”
I eye the small vial in her hand with some tired interest. “Is that poison for me?”
She frowns, displeased. “Of course not. It’s an antidote for the poison in your system. You were being fed poison in the East, Your Majesty.”
“Ah.” A glimmer of understanding. “I’m afraid that antidote won’t work on me.”
Harriet blinks. “I beg your pardon?”
I shrug, keeping my tone nonchalant. “I was fed that poison from a very young age. The king doesn’t have to worry; it hasn’t taken away my ability to bear children. Nor will I die from it. It was meant for an altogether different purpose. You shouldn’t waste the
