Cooking Up Trouble

The cook blanched, holding the tray protectively against his chest. 

"It's your prescription!" he defended himself. "I followed it to the letter and have been giving it daily." 

"What prescription?" Rose intervened before the doctor could ask. 

Lowering the tray, the cook fiddled around in the pockets of his apron before pulling out a slip of paper. 

"Here it is! I was in such a hurry that I forgot to put it away before coming up here. The pictures are mine to help me remember the hard words, but the prescription is what I was given." The cook was sweating so much that a bead dripped on the paper as he passed it to the physician.

With the paper in hand, the doctor examined every bit of the paper, his expression growing bleaker by the moment. 

"What do you make of it?" Rhodri could wait no longer. 

"I think...I think someone is trying to kill you, Your Majesty. And they should have succeeded. How long have you been drinking that monstrosity?" The doctor sniffed at the cup and turned up his nose.

"Ever since my headaches started. About two years ago." Rhodri struggled to think.

"It was right around the time you asked me to start considering marriage. I assumed that my blatant refusal was what brought on your change in health," the princess supplied the information. The belief was the source of guilt that she had held for a long time. 

"I can tell you right now it had nothing to do with nuptials," the doctor pointed to the list as he placed it before the king. "This right here is giving you the headaches, and this one...constant ingestion of it should have killed you in two or three months. Whoever wanted to kill you wanted to do so quietly and make it look natural." 

"Then...why didn't I die?" Rhodri heard all the 'shoulds,' yet here he was alive. 

"I have been giving you herbs for your headaches that counteract the poison for almost as long as you have been taking the tea. Though neither I nor the other person had any clue on the matter. I would venture to guess they are baffled by their bad luck."

"Who gave you the recipe?" Rhodri turned on the cook. He wanted to examine the man closely when he spoke to see if his words were true. 

The cook wiped his brow. His eyes darted to the side and he muttered so softly that no one could make out the words. 

"Who?" Rhodri leaned forward. 

The cook's eyes went wide.

Suddenly, Ethyn was on top of the king, a loud clang of metal against metal rang out in the office as both Rose and her personal knight screamed simultaneously.

 Conall and Aiden sprang into action. The fight ended almost as quickly as it began.

"Ethyn!" Rose pulled the man off of her father, her heart beating wildly.

"I'm fine. The knife glanced off my armor," he assured her. 

'Knife?' Rhodri rose to see Borit pinned to his desk by Aiden while Conall was prying a knife from his hand. 

How had the Commander gotten it? It had to have been hidden somewhere on his person. 

Rhodri came to the sickening realization that his life had just been rescued a second--third?--time from the same man. 

"You?! You were the one who gave me the poisoned tea?" 

Even with his face pressed against the polished wood, Borit sneered. But he remained silent. 

Ethyn tapped his chin, the pieces of the puzzle finally fitting together. "And when that didn't work, he joined with General Kaarel to take you out of power faster. If I had to guess, Borit was planning to keep that document and name himself king when he murdered you as soon as he got back his strength. As Commander, he could have easily blamed Lakyle and set himself up as ruler before anyone was the wiser." 

Rhodri could barely believe his ears. "Deny it," he said to the Commander. 

"Say it nice and loud. Who gave you the recipe for the tea?" Rose turned to the cook, who had moved to the corner of the office, clearly terrified. 

"Please do not make me say. I really thought the prescription was from the doctor, I swear!" The cook saw the king's steady gaze and dropped his own to the floor. "It was the Commander."

"Anyone can say that," Borit insisted, his face still pressed to the table. 

"You attacked the king!" Ethyn could still remember the vibration of his armor as the knife struck his back. 

"I was defending myself against the cook!" Borit cried. "He is clearly an enemy spy." 

"Search him for his notebook," Rhodri ordered Conall. "The Commander always has it to write down my orders when needed. If he doesn't have it on his person, then he left it in the clinic." 

Borit had the book tucked against his chest. It had a few pokes into it, showing how close the Commander had come to death during the battle.

Rhodri opened the pages. The words were written in shorthand, but the king was not trying to read them. He was comparing the handwriting. His expression turned dark. 

"You...you wrote these words. You ordered my death!" Rhodri pointed out to Rose where the formation of the letters was identical. Borit had not even bothered to disguise his handwriting. Angry tears formed in Rhodri's eyes. "Why?"

The Commander's expression hardened, and he spat sideways onto the desk.

Aiden lifted him up and forced Borit to his knees. "You will kneel before your sovereign." 

Borit gritted his teeth. "He is not my sovereign. No one has the right to rule me. Not you, not that filthy Willric, not even that self-righteous Fate has any right to tell me what to do. I should be in charge. And those brats beside you. They are both gutter-trash. Trust me. I would rather die than ever serve that child you call your daughter. She should be bowing before me. All of you should." 

Rhodri stood and pounded his fist on the desk. "Enough!" Smoothing his hair, he took a deep breath. "In light of the evidence and your own treasonous words, I have no choice but to grant your request." 

The next words weighed heavily on the king's heart and he paused to gather himself before saying them.

"As the sovereign of Birle, I, King Rhodri the Just, sentence you to death one week hence. It brings me no joy to say those words, but I cannot let a man live who has tried to murder me multiple times and has no respect for the governing authority. Although it took too long for me to see the truth, I now have no doubt that, if given the chance, you will make another bid for the throne if left alive. Birle deserves better than you. Take him to the dungeon. Find an unoccupied cell." 

"And if there are none, Your Majesty?" Aiden wasn't sure how large the prison below the castle was, but he imagined it must be overflowing.

"Put as many as you can in the other cells to keep Borit isolated. I do not want him to meet an untimely end before justice is served." Rhodri still showed an ounce of compassion. 

"Actually, Your Majesty...if I may," Ethyn felt terrible interrupting. "If you are seeking justice, there is a man in the prison put there because he wanted to warn you about Borit's treachery. Perhaps they could trade places?" 

The crazy man had helped him escape. He did not deserve to stay locked up.

"As you say, Sir Ethyn. It shall be done." Rhodri looked at Borit. "You will harm no one else as long as I am king, Borit. You had it all and threw it away because of your greed. Go and live the rest of your short life in the prison of your own making." 

The former Commander struggled against Aiden and Conall as he was lifted from the ground. "You have not seen the last of me." 

"You are right," Rhodri answered sadly, "But the next time I think you shall like our meeting even less, for it shall end in your death. Take him away."