"You are now a Hartglow," the man said, patting the girl's hair. He lifted her onto his lap and picked an apple from the basket lying beside them on a blue-dyed sisal woven mat.
"All this belongs to us," he said, pointing at the vast lands before them.
A lady with elven features walked toward them. Her long golden-brown hair was tied in a low bun, a sunflower crown resting on it. She wore a navy sundress that complimented her pale skin.
"I brought you a new friend," she said to the boy clinging to her dress. He shyly hid behind her, and they both laughed—a warm, genuine sound that filled the afternoon air.
The girl stood and walked to the boy.
"I am Peninah Hartglow," she introduced herself, holding out her right hand.
"You are not a Hartglow!" he shouted before turning and racing away, crying.
---
Present – Waking
"She's waking up," a voice said hoarsely, like someone who had been crying.
I opened my eyes slowly, the world coming back in fragments. A man came into view—one I was unfortunately familiar with.
He touched my forehead and frowned. I did the same instinctively—no fever.
Then he lifted my wrist, checking my pulse with cold fingers before gently placing it back.
"You seem to be stable now," the royal physician said curtly. "You had a high fever when I arrived, and your sleep was... troubled."
He shoved a wad of bitter herbs into my mouth and hissed, "Chew."
I sat up in shock, slapping his hand away. "What is wrong with you?"
I spat the foul-tasting leaves onto the floor and screamed, "Water!"
Lilliana rushed forward, offering a goblet with shaking hands. I grabbed it and drank in heavy gulps, the cool liquid burning down my dry throat.
Throwing the covers aside, I marched toward the physician, who was now calmly refastening his coat.
"How dare you treat me like that?" I shouted.
He met my gaze, and I saw it clearly—disdain. Disgust.
And then it all came rushing back: Grace collapsing. My own dizziness. The whisper in the dark.
"You'll need to be healthy when you're called for questioning," he said flatly, snapping shut his brown suitcase.
"I'm not eating those weeds," I growled.
He didn't bother to respond, simply turned and left the room.
"What did he mean—questioning?" I asked once they'd gone.
Lilliana hesitated, wringing the edge of her apron. "Word is... they think someone poisoned Lady Grace."
I stared at her, waiting.
"They think it was you."
The air in the room changed—heavier, tighter. My fingers clenched around the edge of the bed.
"Why would I hurt Grace?" I whispered, though even I didn't like how uncertain I sounded.
Lilliana didn't answer, only stepped forward with a clean robe and a cloak stitched with the crest of House Hartglow. She didn't look me in the eye.
"Put this on," she said softly. "They're waiting."
"I know you didn't do it my lady," she assures me.My heart warmed, at least I had someone on my side
___________________________________
The estate was silent, my steps echoed louder than they should have.
Then came the sounds. Raised voiced, not shouting, whispers sharpened into knives.
"...The symptoms are similar to the ones she had back in the city...,"
"...It must have been in her wine or water....,"
"...History is repeating itself, such a menace....,"
My name wasn't mentioned but the glances that greeted me spoke volumes.
Servants moved stiffly, eyes lowered. Two guards stood at the door to the solar, arms crossed, armor polished as if ready for a parade of blame. The smell of citrus polish and bitter herbs clung to the corridor.
A healer stepped out of the room, her apron spotted faintly with red. "She's still unconscious," she muttered to the steward. "But she murmured something this morning. A name."
The steward leaned in, but she glanced my way and went silent.
I stopped walking.
Behind me, someone cleared their throat—soft, but purposeful. William.
He didn't speak. Just stood there, eyes full of things he wouldn't say. He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Did she wake?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
His gaze flicked to the healer, then back to me.
"She opened her eyes," he said. "But she didn't speak clearly. Only fragments."
"Fragments of what?"
"I don't know," he lied. Badly.
"I didn't poison her," I claimed. "Not now and not even then."