[Re-cap:]
“It’s a life, isn’t it?” I asked. “I’ll take it.”
Chapter 3: Poisoned
“Excellent,” the man said briskly, clapping his hands together twice. My body was shaking like a leaf from the relief and leftover adrenaline.
I heard a rustling behind the man and suddenly the curtains behind him parted, and a child walked out. Except it wasn’t a child.
It was a man, disfigured and stooped, with the face of a man and a child’s body. My eyes widened, but otherwise I didn’t say anything.
I looked away from the man-child at the man sitting behind the desk, and realized he had been looking at me. He seemed to approve of my reaction.
“This is Birkita, my right-hand man,” he announced, “But he prefers Birk, don’t you?”
Birk nodded vigorously, turning to look at me. My breath caught in my throat when our eyes met; his were the kindest I’d seen in a long time. There was no judgment in them, like I’d come to expect from others. Instead, he smiled at me, transforming his face, as it blossomed into radiance.
I smiled back hesitantly; the muscles had forgotten what it was like to smile – I hadn’t had any reason to for awhile. And it didn’t seem like I should smile, especially in anyone’s presence, because in their eyes I was a criminal, and who was I to enjoy life?
But I knew somehow that I could smile when I was with Birk, though it was a fleeting one, because my eyes immediately flashed to the man, fearfully watching to see if it angered him to see me smile.
He wasn’t looking at me, but had instead gotten up and was pouring something into goblets, his back to me. He returned, offering me a glass. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Drink,” he ordered, “You look parched, as though you’ve been living in a desert, minus the sun.”
I needed no other prompt; hastily, I gulped down the liquid, not caring what it was, coughing and ignoring my scratchy throat, revelling in the way my throat absorbed the liquid. The man lazily took a single sip in the time that it had taken me to consume my entire glass.
Panting, I sat there, looking at him, feeling fresh, invigorated, and yes, hopeful.
The man put his glass down and leaned forward, hands resting on his desk and his dark eyes boring into mine.
“Well?” he asked.
“Thank you, it was wonderful,” I couldn’t help but smile.
The man’s expression was unreadable as he leaned back. “Good,” was all he said.
And suddenly, it was like the liquid had broken my dam of questions, and words poured out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Sir, how long have I been locked up for?” I asked breathlessly.
He looked at me. “Fifteen months.”
I stared at him in dismay. My eighteenth birthday had come and gone, last year’s harvest had long been collected, and this year’s was already planted. What had happened for the past year? For me, it was one huge hole of darkness and misery, memories to be forgotten, nightmares to be endured. But to others, what had it meant? Someone dying, someone being born, two lovers married, a war tearing hearts apart?
I needed to know.
“And my family?” I asked eagerly, and then faltered underneath his gaze. I had lost control of myself. Not to mention that of course he wouldn’t know about my family; we were commoners, peasants; dirt to the rich, such as him.
I couldn’t make out the expression on his face.
“Your family… it would be best for them if you never returned. They believe you dead,” he finally said.
His words were blows to my heart. But meekly, I bowed my head and nodded, furiously fighting the tears that pooled in my eyes.
“Now,” he said, after turning away politely and giving me sufficient time to master myself, “We must make the arrangements for your training to begin. You will also eventually have to meet the King, though I still need time to smooth over his dismay at the way this has worked out so far.”
“Is the King upset to have a taste tester, Sir?” I asked, frowning.
The man gave me a flat look. “No, he is more than upset at having you as his taste tester.”
I flushed, bowing my head. “Because I am a criminal?”
I heard a gust of air being exhaled, and the man spoke. “The King is not averse to second chances; all the poison testers in our history have been selected randomly from criminals awaiting the noose.”
The implications in his words sunk in. “Then it’s only me he does not want,” I realized.
The man nodded.
“But why?”
He gave a rough bark of laughter. “Why? Because you killed his sister and favourite nephew, of course! Why else? Is that not reason enough? But by law he is obligated to offer you a second chance, and you have accepted. I refused to give in to his demands that I beat you first, so that you refuse the offer. He wanted you dead, but now he is to see you every day, more often than the Queen herself, constantly by his side. Do not expect a warm life, Arianna. There are many people who hate you, and who will kill you if the chance arises. In many ways, the noose was probably the best way to go. At least then your soul would be right with God.”
I stared at him in growing horror as he spoke, outlining the life he foresaw for me. Either way I turned, Death stared at me in the face. And I was innocent. What had I ever done to deserve people’s hatred? How could they believe me of something so atrocious as murder – me, a common peasant girl?
Numbly, I shook my head. I was too far gone for tears. And suddenly, the fighting spirit within me reared its head, unexpectedly furious.
No. I had done nothing wrong in my life. I had loved my brothers and sisters, respected my father, adored my mother, and helped my neighbours. It was just that one night – a twist of fate, a card of chance, bad timing, and everything I knew went spiralling down. After that night, nothing had been the same.
And now what? Was I supposed to pay the price – a heavy one – for something that I had no control over? No. I would attend these lessons, I would come to recognize poisons. I would eat the King’s food, but never, never would I lose hope ever again. I had learned my lesson: in order to have life, you must fight for it. And as I sat there, feeling the man’s eyes on me, I promised myself that I would run far away, as soon as I had the chance.
But, as though he read my mind, the man’s next words shattered my vision.
“There is one more thing you should know before I give you to Birk’s care,” he told me quietly, the whole while watching my face. I raised defiant eyes to look at him.
“The nectar you just drank contained one of the deadliest, most excruciating poisons ever discovered.”
My body began to tremble, and my mind knew only one thing: It was a lie, it was a lie, I’m going to die after all.
And I smiled. All right, so it would be excruciating, but at least I knew the end would come soon.
“Well, where do you want me to keel over and die?” I asked, lifting my chin and refusing to betray weakness.
He smiled. “That’s just it, I don’t want you to die.”
I blinked. Was I talking to a madman? There had been madmen in the dungeons, I’d heard some of them screaming in the night. But then, it had always been night.
“But I need to ensure a guarantee that you will never escape. And so, every day, you will come see me for your antidote to the poison. It will only delay the poison’s effect on your system, but only for a day. It won’t cure you of it. If you ever miss one day, it will be too late to save you. First, you will lose control over your muscles. Does that sound appealing, being paralyzed? But don’t be fooled; the paralysis won’t last long. Then will come the most excruciating, cutting, fiery pain you will ever experience. It will last for hours, during which time you will scream, foam at the mouth, and beg to be killed. It is a terrible, slow, and very painful death. So unless you believe you want to die that way, I suggest you be here, promptly at seven each morning, to receive your antidote. Am I clear?”
I looked at him, eyes wide. “Yes, Sir.”
He nodded. “Good. I shall expect you tomorrow then, at which time I will also introduce you to your trainers, the Poisons Master, the Etiquette Master, and the Tailor, who will have you fitted for gowns. Now, Birk,” he snapped his fingers, and Birk shuffled, hunch-backed to his Sire’s side.
“Take Arianna to the Baths, and find a temporary gown for her to wear. Then show her to her chambers so that she can get a good night’s rest.”
Birk nodded obediently. He limped over to my side, where I sat, frozen in shock.
He took my hand, gently pulling me out of my chair. I rose and mechanically followed him out of the cold room.
“Tomorrow morning, Arianna,” his voice reminded me.
I managed a nod, not sure if he saw it or not, instead concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as I walked towards what was surely an ending to all I’d ever known. I was about to enter a game of court intrigue, assassins, poisonous attempts on the King’s life, and a fight for my survival.
Too bad I didn’t know all the players in the game.
Note from Ella:
Soooo.... what do you think? Crazy, or what? Please comment! And thank you so much to all of you who have responded so positively to the last two chapters, you've inspired me to keep going. This one's for you!