The Dragon Bride | ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kora's POV

The room is silent. Dead silent. The only noise comes from the slightest whisper amongst the assembled empresses.

Those empresses. As much as I try to hate them, I can't. They couldn't control being chosen in the draft any more than I could control being chosen by the pearl. I just wish some of them would be a little nicer. It would undoubtedly be a great help to us all.

I hold Azura's hand tightly, feeling it shaking as the physician carefully checks her pulse using a strange white remote thing with blue and red lights I've never seen before. He then worriedly sighs, shaking his head.

"What is it?" I ask, Azura looking up at him questioningly.

He shakes his head sorrowfully. "I've completed the checkup. I will need to see His Majesty immediately,"

"King Isin is busy right now," I snap, "Tell me. What is it?"

The physician looks around the room, "Is not either of the princes available? Not even Princess Delphine?"

I grit my teeth at the man. "Do you not know how to do as you're told? Tell me what is wrong with Azura,"

He raises an eyebrow at me, "But you're... Human..."

"Oh, really! Fascinating news! We must let the kingdom know!" I roll my eyes, "We've already established this. I'm high enough nobility to know! Tell me, now!"

The physician sighs, "May I tell the young lady and yourself in private?"

Leaving all the curious empresses behind, we go into a secluded hallway. It's noticeably less bright than the throne room, and far away from any prying eyes.

"My lady," the physician turns to Azura, "Miss Valus, you are in danger,"

"Danger?" Azura asks, tilting her head. I raise an eyebrow. In that moment, Azura looks younger, more innocent; slimming down and her time in the dungeon has taken its toll on her. She looks like a little girl. My brows furrow as I study her. I suddenly feel the need to protect her, to be her shield against the horrible Concubines, against the murderous assassins, against the cruel king.

Azura reminds me of a lily flower – gentle, delicate, fragile. Beautiful but easily broken. There is so much that can crush a flower, and once it's crushed it can never go back to how it was.

"Grave danger, miss. I- I'm afraid you have pexoyusl,"

Azura and I both stand statue still. Years ago, there was a pexoyusl epidemic in the Weregild Republic. It wiped out close to a quarter of their population. Pexoyusl is a deadly disease.

First, you get peaky – the victim starts to lose weight. But then, after a while, they become a little loopy. Their head stops working properly and they go insane, slowly but surely more and more out of it. Then, they get high fevers until eventually they're bedridden and can't swallow any food because their throats are so swollen up. Their bodies burn up and sometimes people get itchy rashes from it.

Eventually, the pexoyusl victim dies, mostly just from starvation. Many commit suicide the moment they're diagnosed with it, just to prevent such pain.

As the words leave the physician's lips, I can't help but stare at him as if he's mad. Azura can't have pexoyusl. Why would she? How? It's infectious, and nobody in the palace has it...

And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

The dungeons.

"What did you do all day in those dungeons, Azura?" I snap, shaking her shoulders slightly.

She looks at me wide-eyed and dizzy, flustered. "I... Nothing! I didn't do anything!"

"You didn't touch or eat anything unfamiliar?" I question.

Azura ponders. "A prisoner lent me their cloth to use when I sneezed once,"

"What? When?"

"Uh, a little more than a week ago? But why is that important?"

"What did the prisoner look like?"

"I couldn't see them fully, but they had very pale skin, and their eyes seemed strange. A little bulgy, now I think about it. It was a man, I believe. He was so very skinny, Kora! The prisoners are far too underfed, really! He even had these red horrible rashes on his face, and he looked a little faraway, as if he wasn't totally sane-"

I feel dizzy myself now. No. It can't be. Azura can't have pexoyusl, she can't die, she has to live! Live with me. Stay alive, for me. It sounds so selfish but in that moment I couldn't care less – whether she had an infectious disease or not. The very idea of it sends chills down my spine, makes my eyes begin to well up, makes my lip begin to tremble. In that moment, I don't know which of us feels worse.

I hug her, tightly, because I can't bear to let go. Because if I let go, I may never get the chance to hug her again.