The Poison

Trace followed Anaisa and Sapphira through the halls with mounting concern. His wife's face betrayed intense weeping, and he wondered what the king could have said to upset her so.

He dreaded it. Anaisa wasn't given to strong displays of emotions other than anger, but she didn't seem angry. She seemed broken.

He couldn't abide it.

His own dire situation was pushed to the back of his mind as he focused on Anaisa's slow, halting steps. They were getting less even, and she didn't even seem to realize it.

Something was terribly wrong.

If it weren't for the stares of servants and the fact that she was currently impersonating the princess, he would have carried her from the beginning. But finally, when she reached the door and stumbled against it, his self control was at its end.

Scooping her up into his arms, he shouted at the nearest servant.

"Send for a doctor, immediately."