The Heir Apparent - a historical why choose, rh, poly, MMF, spicy romance ✅

Chapter Seventeen

Anevay

I recalled feeling strange.

That was the best way I could describe it as I sat at the table, watching everyone carry on their conversations, but feeling oddly detached from it all.

Then I started feeling both cold and hot at the same time.

My vision started to swim.

My tongue felt weird, like it was too fat for my mouth. And my lips were tingly.

When my breathing felt strange, that was when I felt the need to get up, to try to excuse myself politely while I still could, then get out of there and find Casimir.

I figured, as I woke up in bed beside him, that I did manage that feat.

But I had no recollection of it.

And I did not know why Riven was also in bed with me.

And where my clothing had gone.

And why my hair was wet.

"Anevay," Casimir said, the sound like a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," I admitted, since that was my dominant thought right then.

"No. Physically. How do you feel? You have been very unwell."

"Unwell how?" I asked, looking at him.

"Poisoned," Riven answered, making me whip over to look at him. But the movement proved too fast, making my head spin. My hand shot out, slapping into Riven's chest for stability. "Easy," he murmured, his hand closing over my wrist, giving me a little more grounding.

"We can not say for sure," Casimir said, and I felt the bed compress as he climbed off of it to move around the other side to face me once again. "But all the signs point to poisoning."

Poisoning?

The idea was so absurd that I wanted to laugh.

No one was deliberately poisoned.

I could understand if something had been prepared incorrectly for dinner, and the diners fell ill. But they had not mentioned anyone else falling sick.

It seemed to just be me.

It was ridiculous.

And yet... perhaps not.

Someone had attempted a coup.

Someone had killed my uncle and his sons.

It did not seem so out of the realm of possibilities that someone wanted me to die as well.

"Am I the only one unwell?" I asked.

"Yes," Casimir confirmed, reaching out to pull my eyelid down. "You have more color," he told me, then removed my hand from Riven's chest so he could feel for my pulse. "And a strong pulse. Do you have any complaints?"

"I have a headache. And I feel quite thirsty."

"You are dehydrated from your fever," Casimir told me, already reaching for a glass of water to hand me. "Sip slowly, but drink it all," he demanded.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"The entire night and half the morning," Riven told me as Cass moved over toward his medical kit to look around at several vials.

"Does everyone know?"

"We hope not," Riven said, and I was glad I could always count on him for honesty. "That would not be good for the kingdom."