Page 70 of Tangled Sails

Her nostrils flared, and the bowl of stew in her hands trembled with rage. “Then you’ll get nothing from me,” she spat.

Perhaps she’d forgotten that she didn’t have control of this situation, or perhaps denying me everything I wanted was too ingrained for her to stop. Either way, when Harlan stalked toward her, she seemed surprised, and when he snatched the bowl out of her hands, she flinched. Perhaps I should have felt bad for her. I didn’t.

Harlan slammed the bowl down in front of me, and this time, I was the one to flinch away. “Eat,” he ordered.

I did so, picking up the bowl and drinking the stew’s broth from the edge since I didn’t have a spoon.

He turned back to Ethel. “She needs water, too.”

Ethel sneered in contempt but went to fetch water. “Why is she so weak, anyway?”

“You’d be proud of your little niece. She saved a king’s life.”

Ethel looked confused. “You cut her hair after she saved your king?”

He snorted. “Her hair was cut long before today.”

Ethel’s arms dropped to her sides and her face lifted into stunned surprise. “But…” she stammered.

“What?” he bit out.

“She can’t heal without her hair.”

He turned to me, his brow raised in surprise as he looked me over. “Is that why your hair was so long when we found you?”

I nodded, seeing no reason to lie, and dumped another mouthful of stew onto my tongue. The tiny bit of food I’d eaten was already making me feel better. Not much better, but enough that I felt sure I would recover soon enough.

“Hmm,” Harlan mused before turning to face my aunt. “Well, it seems your girl doesn’t need her hair to heal after all.” Harlan pulled out the chair opposite me and threw himself into it, putting his back to Ethel like she was of no consequence. The way he crossed his arms over his chest made his upper arms bulge, and he still held his knife. I supposed, to someone like him, Ethel was of no consequence.

Ethel stood frozen, her eyes suddenly less angry and more greedy as she studied me and sized up Harlan. “What are you going to do with her?” she asked as she retrieved two cups from a shelf.

“Take her to the High Court, of course.”

Aunt Ethel stiffened. “You can’t do that.”

“Watch me,” he said while looking at me.

“The people here need her,” Ethel cried. “They’ve been suffering ever since she left.”

“She needs water,” he reiterated.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethel fill the two cups with water and then add several drops of potion to one of them. I tried to keep my face passive. If she gave me that cup, I wouldn’t be able to drink it, no matter how thirsty I was. But if she gave it to Harlan…my heart raced with hope. If she put him to sleep, I could leave. If I flung myself off the balcony, would that take me back to Islewyn? Was I brave enough to do such a thing? Or foolish enough? I might have to wait until my full strength returned and then attempt to climb to the ground again. But I could do that. If Harlan slept long enough, I could make my escape.

I carefully tracked Aunt Ethel’s movements, keeping my eye on the cup that had the added magic.

She set it in front of Harlan and gave me the other.

I grabbed mine up and took a sip, just to be sure there was no taste of magic, then I quickly drained it.

Harlan eyed the cup Ethel had set before him, then turned his derisive eyes on her. “So you do have some manners,” he said as he snatched it up and swallowed half the cup in one gulp. “Don’t worry. We’ll be on our way soon enough,” he assured her.

Then he coughed.

I took another bite of stew, wondering how long it would take for him to fall asleep.

Then he coughed again and the table shook violently.

I looked up to see Harlan clutching at his throat, looking at me with huge eyes. He reached for me and I lurched to my feet, stumbling away from him. “What’s happening?” I asked, terrified by the purple color crawling up his neck and spreading over his face.