Chapter 279: I Am Not Frightened
"Thank you," she said, though the words were thin.
Pembroke smiled. "You need not look so frightened. I have no wish to be unkind to you."
"I am not frightened," Livia said.
"What are you, then?"
Before she could answer, pain cut through her belly. It was sharper now, sudden enough to steal the air from her lungs. Livia’s hand flew to the arm of the chair. The room shifted slightly, the candles stretching at their edges. She tasted metal beneath the bitterness.
She tried to speak. A cough came instead.
Pembroke leaned forward. "Miss Valenti?"
Livia lifted one hand, asking for a moment. The cough deepened. Her body seized around it, breath catching, throat burning. She turned away from Pembroke, one hand pressed to her mouth, the other clutching the chair. Margery gasped. Eleanor rose halfway from her seat.
"My lady?" someone whispered.
Livia coughed again. This time, she could not stop. The fits came hard, each one tearing through her chest. The room blurred. Panic began to spread among the women. Pembroke stepped back, his handsome face draining of colour now that ravishing had become inconveniently messy. Livia bent forward.
Blood struck her palm. Even though she had planned this, the sight still frightened her. A woman screamed.
Livia tried to breathe, but the next cough tore through her and sent more blood across her fingers. Her knees weakened. The chair slipped from her grasp. The floor rose too quickly, and she collapsed onto the ground.
The chamber erupted. The ladies rushed towards her. Theodora shot to her feet. Suspicion hardened her face.
What was the wench up to now?
"Move back," Theodora ordered. "Move back!"
The women recoiled just enough to give her space. Theodora looked from Livia to the gentlemen, and Livia saw the first flicker of inconvenience in her eyes. A dying royal favourite in the middle of an arranged marriage selection was untidy.
"Gentlemen," Theodora said, forcing her voice into calm, "please see yourselves out. I must handle this privately."
The men did not need much persuasion. They bowed with varying degrees of panic, then began retreating towards the doors.
The ladies crowded near Livia, frightened and whispering.
Margery knelt beside her. "Livia?"
Livia tried to answer, but another cough shook her body.
Theodora’s gaze snapped to the servants. "Fetch water."
"No," Eleanor cried, her voice cutting through the panic. "Someone get the physician."
For one cold, glittering moment, Theodora had an idea. She had not done this. For once, the blood on the floor was not hers by design. She had not ordered the girl poisoned. Livia Valenti had simply collapsed in front of half the court.
So why not let the wench die? Dead women could not seduce kings. Besides, she herself would hunt down whoever did it so as to please her son.
Theodora looked at the women gathered around Livia. Too many eyes. "Stop!" She commanded.
Livia lay on the ground, one hand pressed weakly to her mouth. Blood stained her fingers and the edge of her sleeve. Her breathing came shallow and strained.
"What has she eaten?" Theodora asked.
One of the servants stammered, "Nothing here, Your Grace. She has only had the infusion since she arrived."
Another maid added, "Perhaps something she took before coming."
Theodora’s eyes narrowed. "Guards," she called.
Two men stepped forward at once.
"Take her back to her chambers."
The ladies protested. "She needs the physician."
"Enough," Theodora snapped. "She will be attended to in her own apartments. This room is not an infirmary."
Nor, she thought with disgust, was it meant to become a stage for Livia Valenti’s martyrdom. The guards lifted Livia carefully. The ladies trailed behind in genuine alarm.
Theodora remained in the withdrawing chamber until the last of them had gone. Then she turned sharply to Agnes, her personal maid. "Find Lady Joan immediately...Ask whether there was an error in the girl’s drink this morning."
Agnes curtsied and hurried out. Theodora gathered her skirts and followed towards Livia’s apartments.
She heard Tabitha before she reached the door.
The woman’s voice tore through the corridor. "Where is the physician? Get the physician!"
By the time she entered, Livia had been laid upon the bed. Her gown was loosened, her lips faintly stained with blood, her face frighteningly pale against the pillow. The ladies crowded inside and around the chamber doorway despite the guards’ attempts to hold them back. Servants hovered uselessly.
Tabitha knelt beside the bed. When her eyes lifted to Theodora’s, she shouted. "What did you do to her?"
Theodora’s face hardened. "Watch your tongue, Mrs Crowe."
"You were already getting rid of her," Tabitha cried, her voice rising so that everyone in the chamber and half the corridor could hear. "Why do this to her?"
Theodora took one step forward. "Enough."
"Was it because His Majesty wanted to make her queen?"
The words struck the room like a thrown torch. Theodora crossed the space between them and slapped Tabitha hard across the face.
"You will hold your tongue this instant," Theodora said.
But the damage had already been done. The message had passed. His Majesty wanted to make her queen. The Queen Mother wanted her removed.
Suspicion began to grow. The servants already knew what Theodora was capable of. So they instantly believed Tabitha’s accusations.
"Someone get the physician, please," Margery whispered, voice breaking.
"She will be fine," Theodora said. "There is no need to trouble the physician."
Tabitha knew it would happen. She had counted on it. She would keep the physician away long enough for Livia to die. She faced Theodora. "Your Grace...I think you had better send for the physician." Tabitha stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Because if she dies...her death will ultimately lead to yours."
"Do you want me to start talking here, or do you want everyone out of earshot?"
Theodora turned slowly, looked towards the crowded doorway, where ladies, servants, and guards were gathered in varying degrees of fear, and uselessness. "Everyone out," she ordered.
(Powered by Mar King 2/4)