Thirty-two

It was tempting to assume that Merin would concede and that the game had been won, but Gaeleath had played against the man before and knew he should remain wary. His stomach growled as he made his way back to his sister’s room. Whether they’d be given clean food or not was a question gnawing at the back of his mind.

The two Cuphisian guards at the door were groaning and coming back to consciousness as he approached. He didn’t stop to make inquiries, opening the door with his hand on his knife.

An Arek face greeted him and gave a curt nod allowing him to enter.

<“How is my sister?”> asking in Arek seemed appropriate.

The reply came in Cemiriss, however. “She walked the entire night?” Master Erthor sounded displeased. “With no refreshments? She’s been poisoned and isn’t capable of such exertion without great care being taken. Honey needs to be fetched or Arek ajamia.”

<“My Cemiriss could be better.”> Ellus frowned. <“I doubt his Highness brought ajamia and I wouldn’t trust their honey.”>

<“Some of the men have ajamia.”> One of the Arek servants offered. <“If you need me to I will-”>

<“You may not be allowed to return.”> Gaeleath smiled faintly. <“Prince Volas openly threatened the King and his entire line. I’m profoundly grateful for his support but I worry we may now be in greater danger, servants and soldiers especially.”>

The Arek straightened and returned his smile, <“I’ll risk it.”>

<“I’ll go with him.”> Lady Celaena smiled cheerfully. “Is there anything else you may need, Master Erthor?”

“An Arek boiled grain porridge once she recovers, and if you have limes and bitter mint…” 

“We have that.” Ossa inclined her head. “I enjoy them and had them brought.”

“Good. She needs to be revived promptly. Fetch the ajamia with haste.”

Celaena and one of the Areks left quickly and Gaeleath glanced at Ossa, “Go find our servants and make certain we only eat food prepared by their hands. Have Anrae and Aleesia informed of the morning’s events.”

“At once.” Ossa bustled out.

“How much have you been told, Master Erthor?” Gaeleath frowned as he moved to sit by his sleeping sister’s head and stroke her hair.

“Despite his limited Cemiriss and my limited Arek he managed to explain what had happened until he was sent from her side last night.” The older man looked grim. “Your father will be incensed.”

“Prince Volas expects a well-armed response to his messages from both of our fathers. I had always thought him sour and prickly but there is no one I would rather stand next to in a difficult time.”

“Why did you never learn Cuphisian?” the sole lingering and unobtrusive Cuphisian healer asked with a frown in Cemiriss. “Educated men learn it, yes?”

“I spent my time and energy learning things that would benefit those in my care, not,” the healer waved his hand dismissively, “unimportant things.”

Ellus chuckled, answering in Arek, <“I was forced to learn so that I could be sent with any member of the royal house who comes here. It would be foolish to allow their healers to speak a tongue you cannot in your presence.”> 

Erthor pointed at him as if tapping the man. “Leave travel to the young men, I say. But his Majesty needed to be certain the Princess would recover and I’ve tended every scrape and sniffle the girl has ever had. She has her father’s constitution. Cemiri medicines work well for the Prince and his mother but the King and the Princess do better with Arek teas and remedies. We expect them to know Cemiri medicines here but her care might be beyond them.”

The Arek healer broke into a broad grin. <“I-”>

He stopped and his smile faded as the door opened. 

“Prince Gaeleath.” Myrin stood icily in the doorway. “Step outside for a moment.”

Ellus made a gesture and the Arek servant followed as Gaeleath grimly stepped out of his sister’s room.