Page 113 of Waking Roslyn

“Now,” Doctor Harwick said as I continued to eat. “I’m certain Lady Roslyn has many questions, and setting her mind at ease by giving her as much information as we can will help ease the burden on her mind. Soldier,” he said.

John stepped forward.

“Can you give the lady a full report of what has transpired since she fell asleep?”

He nodded. I wondered why the doctor didn’t ask my parents to explain, but when I looked over at my mother, her eyes were still wet and she looked fragile. Perhaps the doctor knew what he was doing. I moved my eyes back to John, wishing I could smile at him.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly two full days,” he began, his voice firm but ragged. “Two mornings ago, the morning after the celebratory ball, you received flower arrangements from suitors and well-wishers. You were admiring them and smelling them when you inhaled a powdered form of moon thistle. The doctor tells us that this plant isn’t usually dangerous, but when inhaled in its powdered form, it causes the deep unconsciousness that you experienced.”

A noise of distress escaped my throat.

“I know,” he said. “Someone did in fact try to hurt you. If you had inhaled more of it, you might not have survived.”

“Does she really need to hear that?” my mother hissed.

I wanted to shush her and tell her I could handle it. I needed to know everything. Luckily, both the doctor and John agreed with me.

John continued. “We summoned the doctor, and he has been staying here to keep watch over you. We moved you to this room and made sure that you were always watched over and protected.” He paused and seemed to struggle for words, looking away and shaking his head. “Either your mother, your father, or I were always here with you since we did not know where the attack had come from and who we could trust.”

It was gratifying to realize how seriously they had taken everything.

“We stayed with you always, because we simply do not know whom we can trust.”

So they didn’t know who had done it? No perpetrator had been caught. Would they try again? How soon?

“Look,” the doctor said, and reached out to touch my brow. “Your brow is furrowing. That is a good sign.”

It didn’t feel like a good sign. Nothing felt like a good sign. Someone had tried to kill me and nearly succeeded.

My father stepped forward, squeezing close enough to take my hand. “We will find whoever did this,” he assured me. “We will.”

So, someone had indeed tried to kill me, and almost succeeded. And still we had no proof of who it was, though I thought I knew.

I was grateful to be alive, but I was not comforted.

25

John

Her parents kept reassuring her and giving her as much information as they could. Roslyn kept trying to respond, but her throat seemed only able to produce half-sounds and hums. There was still so much fear and worry in her eyes, and those eyes kept darting to me. After a while, I recognized the pattern of her glances. When Roslyn’s parents would say something reassuring that she didn’t quite believe, she would look to me for confirmation. She wasn’t ready to believe the threat was gone, especially when she still lay there helpless, and I was sure she suspected her parents of softening the news.

Luckily, they weren’t. Their forthrightness impressed me, and it was easy to see where Roslyn got her own candor from.

The fact that she seemed to trust me to tell her the truth made my heart squeeze. But I happily stood there, nodding my reassurances whenever her eyes cut my way. But after her fears had been assuaged, it was the captain who caught my eye. He jerked his head toward the door and I reluctantly followed him out.

“Go get cleaned up,” he said as soon as we were out in the hall.

“Oh, I don’t—”

“It wasn’t a request. You’ve been up all night. I won’t try to force you to sleep, but go put on a fresh uniform at least.”

He might have had a point, so I did as he said. I looked back into Roslyn’s room one more time, assured of her health and safety, surrounded by her parents, the doctor, and the captain.

I cleaned myself up and put on a fresh uniform, but the moment I was done, I went back. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have left her with her parents and just let them take care of her.

I had almost reached her door when it opened and her father came out, along with the doctor.

“You’re sure she’ll be fine?” the duke asked in a whisper.