Chapter 385: A Mother’s Hope

Chapter 384: A Mother’s Hope

Lyria’s POV

The remainder of the day passed quickly after that.

The hours slipped by in a quiet blur, marked only by the gradual movement of sunlight across the floor and the soft footsteps of my maids as they went about their duties.

I ate when Pippa brought my supper, the food warm and comforting.

And when the palace finally grew quiet, the servants retreating to their quarters, I rose from my bed.

The candles had burned low, casting long shadows across my chamber. Beyond the windows, darkness had settled over the palace grounds, and the faint glow of the moon was barely visible through the clouds.

I crossed to the wardrobe and took out my cloak.

Wrapping it around my shoulders, I fastened the clasp beneath my chin and pulled the hood into place.

A few moments later, there came three quiet knocks at the door.

I turned.

"C-come in."

The door opened and Kathryn stepped inside.

She was dressed in a dark travelling cloak, the hood drawn low over her face. Her satchel hung at her side, its worn leather bearing the marks of years of use.

She closed the door behind herself before approaching me.

"Your Highness," she said, inclining her head respectfully.

"Kathryn." I returned the gesture. "Thank you f-for c-coming."

"There is no need to thank me, Your Highness."

Her voice was quiet, but there was certainty in it.

"You asked for my assistance. I gave you my word."

I smiled faintly.

Kathryn did not ask what I intended to do.

Perhaps she had simply learned that there were certain questions better left unspoken.

I turned towards the door.

"L-let us g-go."

She followed.

We moved through the corridors in silence.

Our footsteps were soft against the cold stone.

I kept close to the walls, choosing the darker portions of the corridor whenever possible.

A few paces behind us walked Phineas.

He had insisted upon accompanying us.

He had said very little about it, merely appearing when the appointed hour arrived and taking his place behind us as though guarding the princess during a clandestine midnight excursion were the most ordinary duty in the world.

His silence was reassuring.

If Kathryn noticed that the wing we were approaching was the same wing in which the Queen’s chambers resided, she gave no indication of it.

Her expression remained composed.

Her gaze remained ahead.

She was a woman accustomed to keeping secrets. And perhaps that was more reason for me to trust her.

At last, we reached the door.

I stopped.

For a moment, I simply stared at it.

Beyond that door was my mother.

I placed my hand upon the handle but did not immediately turn it.

Then I glanced towards my guard.

"Phineas." I whispered.

He stepped forward. "Your Highness?"

"K-keep watch. But b-be discreet. I do not w-wish anyone to know we are here."

"Of course."

He moved towards the corner of the corridor, positioning himself where he could observe anyone approaching without drawing attention to himself.

I looked back at Kathryn and then I opened the door.

The hinges made barely a sound.

I ushered Kathryn inside before slipping through after her and closing the door once more.

The chamber was dim.

Only a single candle burned upon the bedside table, its weak flame casting a warm but insufficient glow across the room.

The air was cool.

There was also the faint scent of herbs lingering within it.

My gaze immediately found the bed.

My mother lay beneath the covers.

Her face was pale and thin, the once-familiar features diminished by years of illness. Her breathing was shallow, each breath barely disturbing the blanket covering her.

I turned towards Kathryn.

"I h-hope whatever h-happens here d-does not r-reach the ears of t-those it is n-not meant to r-reach."

Kathryn looked at me.

"It will not, Your Highness."

There was no hesitation in her answer.

I nodded.

Then I gestured towards the bed.

"This is m-my mother."

Kathryn’s brow furrowed.

"Your mother?"

I nodded.

"The w-woman you s-see before you—though she l-looks like a s-shell of h-herself—is m-my mother."

Kathryn stared at the woman upon the bed.

For several moments, she said nothing.

Her expression remained composed, though I noticed a subtle change in her eyes.

Surprise.

Perhaps even disbelief.

I could hardly blame her.

I knew that my mother was ill, yet even I found it difficult to explain just how badly her condition had deteriorated.

"She is s-sick," I continued.

I clasped my hands together.

"Normally, she r-receives treatment f-from the palace p-physicians. But due to m-my... indiscretion, that t-treatment has b-been w-withheld for two w-weeks."

The words were difficult to say. And I hated her majesty more for this situation.

"I n-need your h-help, Kathryn." I said to her. "I w-would r-really a-appreciate it if m-my mother c-could recover."

My voice softened.

"Normally, I w-would have g-gone out of my w-way to obtain the h-herbs myself, but r-right now, I have n-no money to e-even buy them."

Nor could I leave the palace at will as I once did.

Kathryn remained silent.

Then she reached up and slowly lowered her hood.

The gesture was almost ceremonial, as though she were setting aside the disguise she had worn through the palace corridors.

She stepped towards the bed and I moved aside to give her room.

Kathryn sat upon the edge of the mattress and carefully took my mother’s hand.

Her fingers settled around her wrist.

I watched her carefully as she felt for my mother’s pulse.

Her fingers remained against her wrist for several moments longer.

I could not tell whether what she felt was encouraging or troubling.

That uncertainty was almost unbearable.

I wanted to ask her.

I wanted to demand an answer.

But I held my tongue.

Whatever Kathryn was doing required concentration, and I would not insult her judgement by interrupting her.

So I stood beside the bed waiting until she was done with her examination.