Children of the Citadel

chapter 8

The next morning, I was woken hours before I would have preferred by a splitting headache and nausea. The sun had not yet risen when I tore my sheets off of me and bolted to the attached washroom to be sick. Guinevere didn't stir.

She'd been tucked into bed by the time I'd returned from the library the previous night, but still awake. She didn't ask any questions when I told her I had been in the library for most of the evening. That sort of thing was quite typical while we lived at the Citadel. She told me about her own day in turn. Valenia had been right; she had initially been whisked away to provide measurements and last-minute opinions regarding her wedding gown. So gaudy, Guin had commented last night as she blew out the candle on her nightstand.

Apparently she had enjoyed a private dinner with Rhidian and the King in the ensuing hour or so. Well, perhaps enjoyed was not the proper word. By the way she had described it, I was quite glad I was not in attendance.

King Elidh wasn't an elderly man by any means, but he was certainly older than our father. I knew very little about the man and had only ever seen him once a year at most, when he spoke at the opening of the annual harvest festival on the last day of fall. He was quite ordinary, as far as men in their sixth or seventh decade of life went. He would hold the position until the moment he died, but Viceroy Runhura and a handful of royal advisors were employed to assist in vital matters as he aged. I knew nothing of the advisors, save for the fact that they did not reside on palace grounds but rather were called in when necessary.

If I was to attend breakfast, I hoped that there might be others there as well other than the most important people on the continent. Although, Isador hadn't said that he would be at breakfast - he only asked me to meet him afterwards.

I couldn't even bring myself to think about breakfast as I vomited into the bowl. It subsided eventually, and I returned to bed. I was even able to sleep for a bit longer before the nausea woke me again.

At that point, the sun had risen. The courtyard outside of the window was still entirely shaded, but there was a golden glow about the space. I didn't have time to relish it as I returned to the washroom to empty my stomach of what little was left.

I heard Guin stirring in the main room. I guessed it was around the seventh hour of the morning.

I sent a quick, meager prayer to The Messiah to rid me of this affliction before it came time for the ceremony. I was supposed to be up there, beside her with our father, not confined to the washroom.

Our father and the other Elders were going to arrive that morning, according to Guin, though she had no idea when exactly.

"Kassia?" Guinevere called from her bed.

I hadn't had time to shut the washroom door before kneeling down beside the toilet. I cringed at the thought of waking her up with my gagging on her wedding day.

I coughed twice, and sat up straight on the cold tile floor. "I'm okay," I responded weakly, "just not feeling so well."

I gathered myself and stood, bracing myself against the small basin sink as I drank a mouthful of water out of my hand.

Guin appeared in the doorway, wiping sleep out of her eyes with the a knuckle.

"Are you sick?" She asked, voice raspy and long, dark hair mussed.

I dried my hand on a nearby towel. She took a step back out of the doorway and I reentered the bedroom proper.

"No. Maybe," I admitted, "I feel better now, though."

Despite what I had just said, I went to lay down in my bed, atop the blankets.

Meanwhile, Guin knelt down to rustle through her trunk. She removed a handful of hygiene products and returned to the washroom, leaving the door open.