Chapter 19

19 Chapter 19 Crystalline Tears and

Poison

Faye’s POV

My eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was a circle of faces hovering around

my bed.

Each expression wore the same carefully crafted mask of concern. Their smiles trembled with what anyone else might mistake for genuine relief. But I had learned to read between the lines of their performances. The disappointment flickering behind their eyes told a different story entirely.

They weren’t relieved I was alive. They were calculating their next move.

A cold shiver ran down my spine as I studied each face. Were they already plotting another attempt, or simply trying to determine where their first plan had gone wrong?

Perhaps both scenarios were playing out simultaneously in their minds.

“Faye, darling, you frightened me beyond words,” Eileen whispered, her fingers wrapping around mine with practiced tenderness.

I managed a small, fragile cough in response.

Allen stepped closer to the bedside. “As you can observe, the Lady has recovered consciousness, however she requires p>

“How dare you speak when I am addressing my daughter,” Eileen’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

To any observer, she would appear as a mother teetering on the edge of emotional collapse from worry. But the veil had been lifted from my eyes. Just like Sally, Eileen was not consumed with worry for my wellbeing. She was delivering a masterful

performance. Every gesture calculated to demonstrate her devotion as a caring parent.

“The terror nearly consumed me completely. These guards blocked our entry for hours. Your poor sister was forced to kneel in the pouring rain outside this tent, pleading with Lord Hardy for permission to see

you,” Eileen continued, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes like a mother drowning in anguish.

Of course. Her worry stemmed from the failure of her scheme, not my brush with death. The clarity was startling now. The disappointment etched in her features wasn’t grief over what had nearly befallen me, but frustration over what hadn’t succeeded. They must

have selected their assassin with meticulous care. Yet somehow, their plan had crumbled.

The transparency of their regret was almost amusing.

Almost.

Eileen shifted her position and fixed her attention on

Allen.

“Your presence is no longer required. We require private time with Faye p>

“I must respectfully decline,” Allen replied without wavering. “I operate under direct orders from Prince Hardy. The consort remains in a delicate state of ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ

recovery. I cannot abandon my post p>

Eileen’s jaw tightened visibly. “Faye, sweetheart, please

inform this guard that his services are unnecessary.

You need proper rest, not watchful strangers lurking nearby p>

The moment had arrived, exactly as anticipated. Naturally, she would attempt to isolate me. I summoned a weary smile and offered Allen a gentle nod. “Please, I would appreciate a brief private conversation with my family p>

His brow furrowed with concern. “My Lady, that directly contradicts Lord Hardy’s explicit instructions p>

I met his gaze steadily, allowing the slightest tremor to color my words.

“I understand, but I need this moment with them before anything else unfolds p>

Hardy had prepared Allen for this exact scenario before they had even been granted entry to the tent. They will demand solitude with you, he had explained.

Allow them to believe they hold the advantage. Permit them to see you as vulnerable. Allen will display appropriate reluctance to maintain credibility, then withdraw. The remainder falls to you. But I want them convinced they have achieved a small victory. Grant

them that illusion.

This was all choreographed theater. And I was the star performer.

Another cough escaped my throat, but this one carried genuine force. It scraped against my windpipe and sent fresh waves of pain radiating through my chest. My entire body felt as though it was being pulled deeper into the mattress by an invisible weight.

Pure exhaustion.

It enveloped me like a suffocating shroud, inescapable and overwhelming. I had only managed to heal seven

individuals.

Seven.

And already I could barely keep my eyes open.

What would become of me if dozens required my touch? Hundreds? What if Hardy dragged me to active battlefields and expected me to resurrect the dying like some miraculous healer? My fingers contracted slightly beneath the covers.

No. I was no miracle worker. And this ability, this

burden, had clear limitations.

Each use extracted a portion of my essence. And the toll was becoming increasingly apparent.

But I couldn’t reveal that weakness. Not while my mother sat beside me with crystalline tears and poison flowing through her veins.

So I settled back against the pillows, closed my eyes briefly, and pushed through the agony.

The performance was far from finished. And I still had my role to fulfill.

As predicted, Allen wavered. But he must have recognized that my condition was genuinely

deteriorating. He had witnessed my state before my mother and Sally’s arrival and understood that I had drained my abilities completely.

He released a resigned sigh before pressing his palm against my forehead.

“You are developing a fever,” he observed. After a moment’s consideration, he nodded reluctantly. “Ten minutes maximum. Then I return p>

He shot Eileen a warning glance before exiting through the tent opening.

And then we were alone.

Eileen descended upon me immediately, her hands framing my face while lavender perfume drifted from her sleeves. “Tell me exactly what happened,” she demanded, her voice thick with motherly concern. “Who would dare attempt such harm against you p>

I blinked slowly, projecting fragility. “A servant brought tea,” I whispered. “She claimed it came from the Lord himself. After drinking it, everything became

darkness p>

Eileen’s eyebrows lifted. “Poison, then?” she repeated.

“You are certain p>

I nodded weakly. “Mr. Allen confirmed it when I regained consciousness. He said I had been poisoned p>

Her eyes widened with suspicious speed, as if startled by the confirmation rather than the incident itself. “Do you recall anything else?” she pressed further.

I shook my head, averting my gaze. “I must have lost

consciousness immediately p>

Internally, I repeated Hardy’s whispered instructions before he had departed with my father. Display weakness. Project submission. And when the momer arrives, reveal the true monster within.

Tears pooled in my eyes, creating just enough shimmer beneath my lashes.

“Mother, I am terrified,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. For the first time, I was offering them something manufactured. After years of falling victim to their rehearsed compassion, the tables had turned

“I cannot comprehend why anyone would wish me harm,” I continued, introducing a convincing quaver. “You promised this marriage was merely ceremonial, that it would grant me independence. That afterward I could disappear quietly, away from court politics and expectations p>

I lowered my eyes, letting silence expand before adding more softly, “But now I question whether I will survive the journey north p>

Tears traced paths down my cheeks. My eyes widened

with glassy panic as I looked up at her.

“Mother, please. I cannot remain bound to Lord Hardy. I beg you, I do not want to be his bride p>

Morh Lucia

Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.