Double Dealing(67)

"And how am I to do that?" I rasped, my throat dry as the desert. "He leaves me alone."

"Because he doesn’t know how to help you grieve, nor does he even know how to grieve himself," Charani replied. "So you must be strong and go to him. Come, you don’t have to do it alone."

I tried sitting up, and failed miserably. "Help . . . please."

Charani shook her head. "Stay there, but stay awake. I will be back shortly."

I lay on my side, trying after three attempts to roll onto my back. I could feel the bed underneath me cold and wet, and I wondered if it was sweat, tears, or if I was so weak I'd pissed the bed without knowing it.

Charani came back in, holding a bowl of soup. "Stay there, just sip," she said, sitting back down. Setting the bowl aside for a moment, she picked my head up and slid a pillow underneath me, letting me recline. "Now, slow sips, just swallow."

Spoon by spoon over the next hour, she fed me sips of the warm broth. There wasn't much in it, just a basic chicken broth, but it helped. I could taste the bullion cubes and the natural fats in the broth which gave me a bit of energy. "After this, I will help you wash," she soothed, helping with a dribble that escaped my lips. "Then you’ll go to Francois when he gets home."

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice stronger than before. "I thought he’d be here."

"He’s in town," Charani said. "The other members of our tribal group, they’re having a meeting. While by tradition Francois should take over, it’s not assured."

"Why not?" I asked.

Charani sighed. "When my father died, it was already a bit contentious. Felix was so young for such a position, and while the Romani respect the family tradition, there’s also reality. If he hadn’t had such a history of serious study and reflection, he might not have been made King."

"Francois doesn’t have such a reputation," I said. "He's been trying to garner his own."

"Which is problematic," Charani replied. "A few years ago, he would have never have been allowed to ascend. Now though, he’s older, there is a chance."

I took another spoonful of soup, and thought. “Would it be so bad if he wasn't? I know it’d be a blow to his pride, but would it be so bad?"

Charani shrugged. "I look at it this way. I know that Felix’s decision to leave the profession was something you liked. If Francois is made King, he’ll be too busy being both King and husband to be a thief. Would that not be a safer?"

I nodded in agreement. "What about Syeira?"

“I’ll take care of my sister, I’ve been with her since birth. You worry about my son," Charani replied. She spooned the last of the soup into my mouth. "How do you feel?"

"Shattered, sad, but better than I was an hour ago," I said. "But who do I turn to when I need strength?"

"You can turn to my sister and I. We’ll be ready when you need us. But first, lets get you cleaned up." She smiled and set the bowl aside, stroking my hair. I smiled back, knowing that while Charani wasn't the woman who gave birth to me, she was more than filling in admirably.

"None taken. Now, how about you help me up and to the shower?"



* * *



The night sky was filled with stars when Francois came home, his face tense and his eyes haunted. Closing the door behind him, his face immediately brightened when he saw me sitting at the dining room table, freshly scrubbed and freshly clothed. I greeted him with the best smile I could. "Welcome home."

Saying nothing, his eyes brimming with emotion and relief, Francois picked me up from the chair, holding me to his chest in a tender embrace. I felt feather light, and let him hold me silently. Charani and Syeira watched for a few seconds, then left the kitchen area. "I missed you."

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I know that you’re grieving your brother as much as I am. Probably even more."

"That’s beside the point," Francois replied, saying nothing else as he continued to hold me in his arms. Carrying me gently, he took me into the living room area, setting me down on the couch. "My only concern this whole time has been your health. Each day I watched as you wasted away further, and I didn't know what I could do to help you. I’m not so good in emotional situations, but I’ll learn. I was feeling like I would lose you too."

"You won’t. So what’s the news?” I asked, changing the subject. I’d stepped on a scale earlier, after being frightened by the image of my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “It’s good I hope.”