Bound by Curse

The Test

Rebecca's POV

I stood in the middle of my room long after Isabella's laughter faded from the hall.

I pressed my fingers to my eyes. Do not cry. You have cried enough for three lifetimes.

The door opened.

Three maids entered with silver trays. Steam rose from the dishes: roast chicken, warm bread, soft white rice and a jug of water that was so cold it left drops running down its sides. Mira came behind them, her eyes red. She said nothing, but she looked at me as if I might break.

"The King ordered food for you, Your Majesty," the first maid said. She set the tray on the table, bowed, and hurried out with the others. The door closed.

I stared at the food.

Because of her, I thought. Not because of me.

But my stomach did not care about my pride. It twisted so hard that I bent over.

"My lady, eat slowly," Mira said.

I did not listen. I took the water first. Drank until it ran down my chin. Then I tore a piece of bread. Shoved it into my mouth. Next I ate the chicken. My hands were shaking. I chewed quickly. Swallowed without tasting.

"Please, slowly..."

"I am so hungry, Mira."

"I know, but your body is weak. It will not..."

I stopped.

A hot sour wave rose from my belly into my throat. The room tilted. The smell of the chicken, which had been so sweet a moment ago, suddenly turned my stomach inside out.

"Oh," I whispered.

I dropped the bread and ran.

I do not remember reaching the washing basin. I only remember gripping its edge with both hands and throwing up everything I had eaten. My eyes watered. My knees shook. My hair fell into my face, and Mira's hands were there, holding it back.

"It is all right, my lady. Breathe."

"I cannot..."

I tried to straighten up. Sweat covered my forehead. The edges of the room turned gray and began to close in like a curtain.

"Mira," I said. My voice sounded far away. "I do not feel..."

The floor seemed to rise up to meet me. When I opened my eyes I was lying on the bed. The ceiling appeared to swim above me. A cool cloth lay on my forehead. Mira's face hovered over me, pale and wet with tears.

"Thank the heavens," she breathed. "You fainted. I thought..."

"How long?"

"Only a moment." She wiped her face with her sleeve.

I tried to sit up. The room spun. A new wave of sickness rolled through me, and I clapped my hand over my mouth.

"Again?" Mira cried.

I stumbled off the bed and ran to the basin once more. There was nothing left to bring up, but my body tried anyway. I heaved until my ribs ached. When it ended I slid down to the floor. Rested my head against the cold stone wall.

Mira knelt beside me. She placed her palm on my forehead on my neck. Her eyes widened.

"You are burning."

"I know."

"Your skin is so hot, my lady." She bit her lip. "How long have you felt this way?"

“I have not eaten or had a drop of water for days. My body is only angry." I said quickly

"Perhaps."

"It is the punishment, Mira."

She said nothing. She looked at me for a long time, and her face slowly changed. It was not the face of a frightened maid anymore. It was the face of a woman who had spent years watching my every breath.

"My lady," she said carefully. "I have known you since you were a little girl. I know when you are hungry and when you are sick. And this..." She hesitated. "This does not feel like the punishment. These are signs of..."

"Stop."

My voice came out sharp. I had not meant it to. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my ears.

"Do not say it," I whispered.

Mira's mouth closed. Her eyes filled again.

"It is the punishment," I said. My hands were gripping my skirt. "It is only that. Do not say anything else."

For a moment, the room was silent. Outside, a bird sang on the balcony as if nothing in the world was wrong.

My mind went where I did not want it to go. A dim room. One candle. A man's hands. then.

I shut my eyes. No. No. It is only hunger. It cannot be.

Mira took my cold hand and held it between both of hers.

"I will not say it," she said softly. "But my lady, please. I cannot pretend I did not see. I will find something for you. A test you can use by yourself, in private. Then you will be sure, and no one will have to say anything."

"Mira..."

"If it is only the punishment, we will laugh about it tomorrow." She squeezed my fingers. "And if it is not, you will want to know. Before anyone else does."

I did not answer. I could not. I only looked at the wall, and my throat closed.

At last, I nodded, just a little.

***

Night came slowly.

I lay in bed in the dark with my hand on my stomach. I did not remember putting it there. I took it away. Then, without meaning to, I put it back.

My body ached from head to foot. The fever had dropped, but my mouth tasted sour, and every time I closed my eyes I saw the same things. Draven's hand around my arm. His cold voice in the throne room. And a darker memory under it all, a warm one, one I could not stop touching with my mind.

It is hunger, I told myself again. It is the punishment.

A soft knock came at the door. Then a whisper.

"My lady, it is me."

"Come in."

Mira slipped inside. She closed the door without a sound and slid the bolt across. She was holding something small wrapped in a dark cloth, pressed against her chest as if it might bite.

"How did you get this past the guards?"

"I told them it was my own medicine." Her hands trembled as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "It is from an old woman who sells herbs in the lower kitchens. She does not ask questions. She said it is accurate, and that the answer shows by morning."

She unwrapped the cloth. Inside lay a thin glass tube and a small pouch of gray powder.

I stared at it. It looked so simple. So small. How could something so small turn my whole world upside down?

"I am afraid," I whispered.

"I know." Mira put her hand over mine. "I am afraid too."

"If it is true..." My voice cracked. "Mira, what will I do?

"My lady."

"How can I..." I covered my mouth. Tears slid down.

"You do not need to think about that tonight." She pulled me into her arms, and I buried my face against her shoulder. She smelled of soap and old lavender. She stroked my hair the way my mother might have, if I had ever had one. "You do not need to decide anything. You only need to know. And I will be here. Whatever the answer is, I will be here."

I clung to her. For a long time, we sat like that, in the dark, with the little tube on the blanket between us.

"Tell me what to do," I said at last.

She told me. Her voice was low and steady. I listened, and I nodded, and my hands would not stop shaking.

"And no one must know," I said. "No one. Not Marta. Not Garrick. Not him."

"No one," Mira promised.

Neither of us noticed the thin line of candlelight under the door.

Neither of us heard the soft rustle of a silk dress on the stone.

***

Isabella's POV

I had only come to ask for more blankets.

My room was in the east wing, and the Queen's room was down the hall. I had been walking back from dinner with the King's laughter still warm in my ears, in a very good mood, when I heard whispering behind a door that should have been silent.

I stopped. I leaned my ear against the wood.

I stopped breathing.

"You do not need to decide anything tonight."

I pressed my hand flat on my own mouth to keep from making a sound. My heart leaped. My lips began to curve, slowly, into the widest smile I had worn in weeks.

Behind the door, Rebecca was crying.

I slid away from the wood, my silk dress whispering on the stone, and walked back to my room without a sound. My fingers trembled, but not from fear.

Oh, sister, I thought. You poor, silly girl.

I closed my door and leaned against it.

You have just made things easier for me..