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

Chapter Eighteen

Riven

The queen was, officially, recovering from a bout of "food poisoning" from some "undercooked chicken."

Unofficially, she was still mostly in bed from the actual poison.

She was attempting to act as though she was feeling herself again.

She was not fooling me.

Or, it seemed, Casimir, who was standing outside her quarters, waiting for her to finish her bath, his brows furrowed.

"She should be recovered by now, should she not?" I asked, watching the truth play across his face.

"I believe so."

"Do you think her condition is permanent?" I wondered, thinking of her tiredness and her weakness. She was even still quite pale.

"I hope not," Cass said, shaking his head. "She is not eating much," he added, seeming to speak mostly to himself. "It could be the reason she is not yet fully recovered."

She claimed she felt too queasy to ingest more balanced, solid meals. I had heard many men say such when struck with some sort of illness during long battles. Usually, it took forcing them to eat full meals to finally get them to feel well again.

No one, it appeared, seemed willing to force Anevay to do the same. Perhaps that was a job meant for me.

"I will speak to her about the food," I said, shrugging as he turned to look at me.

To that, he nodded. "Even just small amounts of good food might make a big difference."

"I will see to it," I assured him, willing to be the 'bad guy' if it meant getting her back on her feet faster.

"It makes no—" Casimir started when the door suddenly opened, and there was Laef, Anevay's personal maid, holding a bunched up pile of clothing.

"Oh, good," she said, looking between the two of us. "I was looking for both of you."

"What is it?" Casimir asked.

"Her clothing," she said.

"We see that," I murmured, getting a sharp look from her.

"No, it is her clothing, that was why I was looking for you."

"What is wrong with it?" I asked.

"There is a strange odor."

"That is indelicate," Casimir scolded, looking offended on Anevay's behalf. "She had a burning fever," he reminded her.

"No, it is not that."

"Then what?" Cass asked, losing patience.

"It is a strange, bitter scent," she said, holding up the garments. "Not something I am familiar with. Could it be related to whatever she was poisoned with?"

Casimir and I shared a look, both of figuring that it was a possibility, since the body got rid of toxins through sweat.

Casimir reached for the clothing first, raising them to his face, and taking a deep breath.

"She is right. It is bitter. But almost fruit-like at the same time," he said.

"Do you know what might cause that smell?" Laef asked.

"No. But I shall look into it," Casimir said, seeming pleased to have some way to try to control the situation once again.

"And I shall get her to eat," I said, looking at Laef. "Can you have a tray prepared?" I asked.