Shattered Truth

Edgar and Sebastian leave the next day, promising to be back soon to help Father with their plans to sail to Ridenvell. I offer to take Bandit, Bruce, and Kingsley into town to go to the market, and Father says it's a wonderful idea. Big surprise, Charles and Cecily invite their horrid selves along. No matter; I already have other plans; ones that do not include my family and guests. Or, at least, not all of my guests. The six of us wander through the marketplace, Bandit actually staying close to Cecily so she can avoid Charles. He doesn't seem as eager to try and court her lately, though, for some reason. I begin to lag behind the others, waiting until Kingsley notices. He pauses, pretending to admire some apples. When the others are far enough ahead, I grab his hand and we sneak off through the marketplace.

"We have to stop meeting like this," I joke when we've left the crowd behind and take refuge in the olive orchard. I lean back against a tree trunk and push my hair out of my face.

"But it's so much more fun this way," Kingsley says. He braces one hand against the tree, looking down at me. The soft afternoon light makes his molten eyes sparkle.

"Oh, nothing is fun for you unless it's dangerous," I say, rolling my eyes. "You are such a cliche."

"I most certainly am not!" Kingsley says with mock hurt. "I am a complete original. And you know, Miss Daggyrmir, I am quite baffled as to how such a sharp tongue can be hidden behind such soft lips."

I scoff. "You have no idea how soft my lips are, Mr. Chevalier."

"Well, I should very much like to find out," Kingsley says, his voice low. My breath catches, and then his lips cover mine. I suddenly feel like I did when I was little, and would roll down the hills behind the manor. Disoriented, dizzy; yet breathless and exhilarated. One of Kingsley's arms wraps around my waist, and his other hand tangles in my hair. I'm not sure how long we stay like that, but Kingsley looks slightly dazed when we pull apart. There's something like wonder in his eyes as he stares at me.

"What's the matter?" I ask him, once I've caught my breath.

"Nothing," Kingsley whispers. "I've just...realized something, is all." He looks thoughtful. "We should get back to the others before they come looking for us. Meet me in the garden at midnight; I have something I need to tell you."

***

I pull on my black cloak and slip out of my room, padding through the silent house. I'm early, but I couldn't sleep, wondering what Kingsley wants to tell me. I see a light on in one of the guest rooms; Bruce's. How odd; I didn't really figure he'd be awake at this hour. I hear some voices murmuring angrily from inside. I want to listen in, but don't want to be late meeting Kingsley. I make sure to tip-toe past that hall, hoping nobody hears my footsteps. I try to sit beside the fountain, but find I'm too nervous. So I stand back up and start to pace. What could he want to tell me? What if he's decided I'm not as interesting as he thought I was? What if I kissed him all wrong this afternoon? My heart starts pounding in my chest so loudly I'm sure I'll wake everyone in the house. Suddenly I hear a footstep near the gate.

"King-?" I can't finish the word before a searing pain tears through my side. I scream and stumble back. My masked attacker swears, then bolts for the garden gate. I press my hand against my side and feel warm blood. I scream again, feebly, as I try to make my way back to the house. But my eyesight is growing blurry.

"Kingsley," I say weakly. I crumple on the ground, dimly aware of shouting voices as my world goes black.

***

I'm delirious with fever for several days. I lay in my bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes Father is there, reading quietly to me from my favorite books. Other times there's Mira, dabbing at my brow with a cool cloth. At one point I wake to find Kingsley sitting beside my bed, his head in his hands. Then Bruce and Bandit are there with him, and they're all arguing.

"We can't leave a job undone," Bruce hisses.

"Forget the job," Kingsley snaps back. "The Granagde House obviously sent someone to dispatch the two of you once it's over. Cut your losses and get gone, before you wind up dead."

"They'll clearly be after you too, if the condition your precious girlfriend's in is any indication. I suppose you're just going to stay?" Bruce says angrily. "We'll all be giving up a lot of money, all because you had to get yourself smitten with some noble girl."

"Listen, old man, I may be a bounty hunter, but innocent people getting hurt was not part of the deal. Neither was having our employers send hunters after us. Maybe you should have read the fine print. And don't try to pin this on me; you're supposed to be professionals and you haven't been able to pull anything off in nearly two weeks!"

"Don't impune my honor, boy. Your little love fest with the girl was only supposed to get us here; you weren't supposed to go and melt into a pile of lovestruck mush and botch the whole thing!"

Their words make no sense to me. I fall back into my fitful sleep. I alternate between freezing and burning up; my dreams are filled with blazing fire and stinging ice. Finally the fever breaks. I wake one morning, and the colors don't run together; the world no longer looks like a hazy dream. I cough and sit up. My room is empty.

"Hello?" I call, my voice coming out as a hoarse croak. I struggle to get out of bed, but it's as though my legs have forgotten how to work. I nearly fall, and clutch the nightstand for balance. Mira comes into the room. She nearly drops her tray.

"She's awake!" she shouts happily. She turns and leans over the stair railing. "Everyone, Giselle's awake! She's going to be okay!" And suddenly I'm surrounded by people. My eyes only search out on pair though. Kingsley's. There is such a look of relief in his eyes that it finally hits me how serious my condition was. I think I remember Bruce saying something about my condition...oh, whatever. I couldn't begin to tell what was real and what was fever-induced while I was out. I probably dreamed it.

"What happened?" I ask. "Why does it hurt to breathe? And how long have I been asleep?"

"Almost seven days," Mira says, wiping a tear from her eye. "We were so worried we were going to lose you."

"Seven days?" I'm stunned. "What happened? The last thing I remember was being in the garden..."

"Someone stabbed you!" Cecily gushes, her eyes wide. "And the blade of the dagger was poisoned." I nearly faint. Kingsley's arms reach out protectively when I sway on my feet.

"Why would anyone want to kill me?" I ask.

"That," Father says grimly, "is what we've been trying to figure out."