The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(46)

"Not exactly the welcome I expected. You sure know how to make me feel wanted." She tried to keep her voice light.

"I should have told them to send you home. Made up an excuse that wouldn't hurt your feelings, but once Hamon said you were here . . . Forgive my selfishness."

"Of course. And I also forgive your crypticness." Arin laid a hand on Daleina's arm. Come on, talk to me. Look at me! "Do you want to talk about what's going on, or would you rather skirt around it until you feel ready? I could tell you about Daddy's ridiculous new project. He wants to build a birdhouse that's a replica of the library in the Southern Citadel, complete with bird-size fake books on the shelves. He'd been trying to convince Mother to whittle the books for him for the past two weeks. He thinks there might be a market with extremely wealthy collectors."

"People collect birdhouses?"

"Oh yes, Daddy has been gossiping with some of the other woodsmen-he wouldn't call it gossiping, of course. ‘Sharing trade information.' Gossiping, I say. Anyway, apparently there's a man on the forest floor who carves life-size statues of bears and raccoons with hollowed-out stomachs to use as cupboards, bookshelves, or baby cribs. Daddy has decided his niche will be bird-"

"I'm dying, Arin."

Arin quit talking. Daleina's words fell into her like stones into a pond, and Arin felt them ripple out from her gut, sweeping through her veins, making her feel as if she'd been submerged. "What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"I have the False Death."

No.

No, she couldn't.

Not Daleina.

"But you're so young!"

"It's not unheard-of."

"It's rare enough. And we've never had a single case of it in our family. It's inherited, isn't it? How could you have it? On Daddy's side, Grandma died of ridiculous old age, and Grandpa fell and broke his neck. On Mother's . . . I don't remember, but not the False Death. I think there was some kind of sickness . . . Your healers must be wrong. Besides, you don't look sick." In fact, she looked lovely, her gold and red and orange hair shining like a tree in autumn. Gold flecks had been painted around her eyes, which made her eyes pop even more. Daleina had always had intense eyes. She'd always been intense about everything. Dying certainly wasn't making her any less intense. "They're wrong."

"Hamon is one of the best. The other palace healers are in awe of him."

"That's nice, but he's wrong."

Daleina looked at her, for the first time since Arin had come onto the balcony, and Arin felt the full weight of those very intense eyes. "You are less comforting than you're supposed to be."

"I'm not letting you die."

"You don't exactly get a say in this."

"You're going to fight this."

Daleina looked away. "It's inside me. I can't throw a knife at it."

"He's looking for a cure, isn't he? Your healer boyfriend?" She thought of how calm his voice had sounded, urbane, as always, and wasn't certain if that had been an act or not. Healers were trained to have exquisite bedside manners. She'd corner him later, find out how serious it truly was, though she'd never heard of the False Death not being serious. This can't be happening. Not to Daleina!

"He wanted someone I trust here with me while he looks for a cure," Daleina admitted. "That's why you were summoned. But I don't want you in danger-"



       
         
       
        

Instantly, Arin said, "Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

"He wants you to monitor my symptoms when he can't."

Why me? she wanted to ask. Why not one of the palace healers? But she didn't ask, because she didn't want to be sent away. Daleina wanted me, whether she remembers that or not. "You've had symptoms?"

"Seven people died."

"Oh."

Daleina clasped her hands behind her back and stared out at the green as if it held all the answers. The sun still washed over her, bathing her in light, which glistened off the sparkles on her face and in her dress so brightly that it looked as if she were exuding light.

In as deadpan a voice as she could manage, Arin said, "Most people when they get sick just sneeze a lot. You're such an overachiever."

Daleina snorted, which was almost a laugh, and then she was serious again. "If I black out, you must hide. Promise me that. Every room we go into, scout out where you'll hide if it happens, and if I collapse, you must go there. And whenever I don't need you . . . at all other times, I don't want you anywhere near me."

"Daleina, I don't-"