Chapter 189: Bedside
Aunty P sat beside her youngest niece’s bedside, sipping tea and reading reports. Occasionally, whether it was tricks of the light or Aunty P’s own imagination, she would see movement out of the corner of her eye and hope would rekindle. But no, each time she looked at Sybil, the more her insides were crushed.
Sybil was still in a coma and the protective eggshell, as Aunty P has been calling it, still hung over her. The eggshell was a magical barrier of sorts, colored that of an egg or bone. It was somewhat translucent, which allowed the doctors and healers enough room to work their own magic. Each left the room more stupefied than when they entered, however they all told Aunty P the same thing.
That Sybil was in no real danger. Whatever magic was keeping her comatose was also keeping her alive. It provided her with nutrition and kept her from drying out. One healer even mentioned how they would kill to know how the spell worked, for it could save the lives of wounded soldiers while they were in transit to a proper clinic.
But Aunty P didn’t care about that. Well, obviously she did. It was her niece after all. But she had also seen the spell once before. Centuries ago, when she was still just a child, when her mother, the former Queen died, and her sister, the current Queen, took over.
Well, the former former Queen and the former Queen.
Sybil was the new Queen... just as soon as she woke up.
Which could be any day now, from how Aunty P remembered all those years ago. Hopefully.
But the kingdom had to be run and without a functioning Queen, that job defaulted to her, she supposed. Not that she was actually doing anything queenly right now. Responding to some requests, signing some documents, making sure nothing was on fire.
Honestly she didn’t know what her sister did all day.
Aunty P put down her tea. What her sister had done all day. She was dead, after all. Luckily Aunty P was quite good at putting her emotions behind a mask. She loved her sister, she truly did, but until Sybil was safe, awake, and wearing the crown, she would not allow herself to shed a single tear.
Well, shed anymore tears. She had shed a few during the final goodbye with her sister.
A knock sounded from the open doorway. Aunty P turned, already knowing who was there. She had heard his footsteps from all the way across the castle, and Devin had a unique sounding step.
“Devin,” she said softly. “Finally come to see your youngest sibling? Only took you a few weeks.”
Aunty P did not like Devin Palemarrow, the Eldest Prince and her sister’s first child. Actually, that wasn’t true. She did like him, quite a bit in fact, but that was before Sybil fell ill. Once the boy – who was actually a fully grown man – found out his birthright to be King was “stolen” away, he had become quite grouchy.
“Exactly right, as always Aunty,” Devin muttered, his words sounding like sand. He gave Sybil a glance and then turned back. “Also I have come to deliver this.”
The Eldest Prince held out a paper file. Aunty P took it and promptly placed it under her tea and frowned.
“And why, pray tell, are you delivering it?”
Devin didn’t roll his eyes, years at the game of politics had long beat that habit out of him. “Because I ran into that old High Inquisitor of yours in the hallway. And well, since I was coming this way anyway, I figured I would make an appearance.” He paused. “For appearance's sake.”
“I understand.”
Aunty P nodded. “You’ll have to do something about that tail. Getting into a Draconic fight would surely cause an issue for everyone involved.”
Face falling, Devin said, “I wish I never even got the cursed thing. Whoever thought it was a good idea for the former crowned prince to become Draconic was not very smart.”
Aunty P stared at him.
He held up his hands. “I know, I know. I was not very smart in my younger years.” He smiled to himself. “I can keep it hidden. No Draconic fights, I promise.”
“Very well then. You will stay until Sybil wakes and takes the throne. Then you can do whatever you wish.”
Smiling with all his heart, Devin hugged his aunt and skipped out of the room. Aunty P sighed and looked over the report.
Harbinger Ashford and the Witch had been spotted in the outlying cities. Preliminary estimates suggest that they were heading toward the capital, albeit slowly. Recommended course of action was to secure the castle and increase patrols.
High Inquisitor Rushwin also made note to find someone with a skillset nearly identical to Inquisitor Spencer Silver and to have that person better the city’s spatial defenses.
Aunty P sighed at that. They had been looking and found nothing.
She continued through the report, skimming most of it. Nothing was as important as making sure Sybil was safe from Ashford, although there were some things that might be a problem in the future. Some new monster types, rumors of new sentient races, something called “sorcery” that was different from Lordly magic. She made some notes for later.
The last page was potential sightings and leads for Leland Silver and cohort. She read it slowly, the thought of Harbinger Leland Silver still fresh on her mind. It was his fault they were in this mess and his fault that his parents and the others left.
Expecting just another normal report of non-information, Aunty P was quite surprised when something actually important was listed.
It came from an Inquisitor she did not know personally, which meant one of the grunts. The Inquisitor had interviewed a ship captain about two missing passengers with oddly familiar descriptions. The ship captain even provided names and personal information about them.
Leland and Isobel had been seen entering the kingdom via ship near Shoutwell.
Aunty P finished her now cold tea, stood, stretched, and strolled out of Sybil’s room. She walked past the dozen odd guards and soldiers protecting the soon-to-be Queen to her office. There she wrote a few order listings and sent them off to their respective people. They would have eyes in Shoutwell within the half-day and dozens more in the areas around Shoutwell.
Leland Silver had returned and Aunty P could only assume the worst. He had returned for Sybil, just like Harbinger Ashford.