The Kingdom of Secrets and Ruin

Dalliah

“Maud, the Leverer daughter, you can feel her in here, can’t you? Or at least I can… it always gives me the shivers to visit these rooms now.” Meghan shakes herself dramatically as if someone had just walked over her grave and I allow myself a subtle sigh of relief, not missing the fact that she just addressed my sister by her forename with her title nowhere in sight.

“I thought it was just me,” I answer weakly to explain my clear distress in being here. But the panic was worth it, as just like that, it’s as if I’ve gotten a free pass to mourn the family I’ve well and truly lost. She’ll just think that I’m scared, and I am, just not for the reason she suspects.

I’ve never believed in ghosts, I’ve read about them and heard about them in the servant’s hall but it never occurred to me to actually take it seriously. Reaching out with my senses, as if trying to listen to the slightest noise or feel the smallest sensation on my skin, I humour Meghan for a second on the off chance that my sister really is here. But I feel nothing but disappointment and realise when dusting the looking glass that I should have known better.

If she didn’t want to see me in her life, why would she bother to wait around for me in death?

If it was my mother… maybe, but I’d like to think she’s found peace on the other side.

Meghan opens her mouth as if to say something again to me on the subject, but then her face pales considerably and she practically throws herself on the floor to reach under the bed for the chamber pot. Mercifully it’s still empty when she relieves herself of the breakfast shovelled down in the haste of a busy day, and I recognise the beads of sweat on her brow as the same symptoms Marjorie had this morning.

Again I start to worry if whatever it is could be contagious, but if that were the case wouldn’t I feel unwell too? If anything I’m feeling better today than I have in a while, as if I’ve finally gotten used to the hunger pains and the constant labour.

But if that’s the case, why are we all ill?

“Oh my,” Meghan wipes her mouth before looking up at my wide eyes and answering with a sheepish blush, knowing that she’ll have to say something to explain herself.

“Can you keep a secret?”

It takes all I have not to laugh in response as I know that this would definitely not be the right reaction in a time like this, but really, keeping a secret is all I can do at this point.

“Yes, of course.”

Meghan bites her lip as if considering for a second, but whatever internal debate wages inside of her head, it appears as though I’ve come out on top when she finally opens her mouth.

I hope I’m never this trusting of such things, I mean, how can she decide to trust me so easily?

“Lady Odelina is somewhat of an alchemist… Marjorie found some of her potions and herbs yesterday while cleaning and I thought I recognised something meant to… relax you, if you know what I mean?” She raises an eyebrow but rather than contradict her with my ignorance, I merely nod so that she can cut to the chase and explain this sudden illness.

Should we be standing so close?

“Well, I’m starting to think that I got it wrong. You see, we took some, only a little so that she wouldn’t notice, but it didn’t do anything and I’m guessing if you’re here, Marjorie is sick too?” She winces guilty, as she looks for confirmation.

“Nausea and fever,” I confirm in practically a whisper.

“Damn it.” Meghan curses but then looks at me quickly as if remembering that this is only the first day that we’ve really known each other and exactly what she just confessed to me. “I mean-”

“It doesn’t matter, but what does matter is if we need to be worried. Could it be poison?” I lean down to offer her my hand, it being clear now that the vomiting is over.

“No-Not at least not in the amount we took.” She shakes her head, “It’s in the drawer in her dresser, furthest to the left and the blue bottle if you can bring it here?” She waves at the dresser in the corner, the one we haven’t had a chance to dust just yet and that remains in the shadows away from the window.

The fact that the dresser was already here makes me question if it’s Lady Odelina who was the collector or if perhaps it was my sister, but that thought remains unspoken as I collect the bottle in question.

Meghan takes it in her weak hands and sniffs the contents, something I certainly wouldn’t have done if I suspected it to be the cause of such an illness, but that’s just me.

“Ivy.” She sighs, “It must have been dark in here yesterday, I should have recognised it, should have tasted it but it doesn’t matter… we’ll be fine after some rest.”

“What if you’d have taken more?” I ask before I can even think about what it would mean for me to ask such a thing.

“A larger dose has been known to be fatal.” Her face is grave as she explains and I let the fear for my friend show on my face. How could they have been so foolish?

What is this herb that they thought it was? I can’t see how a bit of relaxation could be worth the risk, it’s not like the feeling could last in our line of work.

“I-I don’t know you very well, Dalliah, but I hope you can keep this to yourself.” The sweat on her brow builds as she suspects me of what I’d assume anyone else in this castle would do, inform on her.

“Marjorie is my friend, as far as I know the chicken could have been bad at dinner.” I force myself to shrug as I think a gesture like that might calm her more than my currently reserved demeanour.

“Thank you!” She breathes out heavily. “W-would you mind doing the next room without me? You’ve seen all we do in here and if I’m seen vomiting in the King’s room I could be arrested… They’re very protective of him compared to how it was.”

“The Red King sleeps next door?” I ask, clearly forgetting what we’re actually doing here and which people utilise these rooms when we’re not here to clean them.

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind, I just, I could also do with eating something now that my stomach is empty.” She winces at the bedpan on the floor, but at least we know that the scullery maid will be responsible for this one. Nothing here could incriminate them both further.

“Go. I’ll finish that dresser and I’ll tackle the next room… but check on Marjorie for me, please? Let her know that it’ll be okay?”

Meghan nods and leaves me alone in the room, it feels bigger this way somehow and I stare at the bottle in my hand as if for the first time. What would a princess want with ivy leaves?

But the second I ask it, an answer for a lesser-known princess comes to mind, an answer for myself.

If these leaves can be fatal, what would happen if I mix them in with the mint that is drunk alongside the royal water? What if I actually have an opening to take my revenge?

My hands shake as I smooth the sheets over the bed that my father slept on each night that he spent ignoring my existence. I never thought I would actually live to see this room and malicious intentions aside, I’m not quite sure how I’m meant to react to this.

Carrying out my duties as shown by Meghan, I keep glancing over towards the door, expecting someone to burst in at any moment, but then also darting my eyes towards the drinking water that remains untouched.

From the awareness I have of it, the blue bottle in my pocket may as well be burning a hole in my dress and it’s harder than I thought, to work up the courage to kill someone.

My heart keeps fluttering in my chest, the palms of my hands are damp from perspiration and it’s taken twice as long to do this room as it has Maud’s.

I try to wonder what my mother would say if she were here, would she approve of such a scheme or would she wish for her daughter to remain pure and sinless? But all that line of questioning seems to do is spark my anger further as I’ll never know what my mother would say, not now that the Red King has killed her.

The plan is simple, treat the room as I would any other, as this way, no one would suspect the new maid should their king fall ill. Goodness knows that if Meghan hadn’t told me, the last thing I’d have suspected was herbs causing the sickness and the only thing that I’ll adjust is the mint next to the water.

I know that this is likely my only chance. Marjorie is going to be recovered by tomorrow and there’ll be no reason for me to enter these chambers again without raising suspicion. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for, the justification of why I was allowed to survive when my family wasn’t. I just need to work up the nerve.

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the bedside table that holds almonds, water and other refreshments that the Red King has on hand. I’m supposed to change this water, so it’s not strange for me to be standing in this part of the room but still, it feels wrong.

I try to push past it, past the fear that seems to be screaming in my ears but as I reach down into the front pocket of my dress, my breath catches at the same moment that the door opens and there he is, standing before me.

The Red King.