I awoke hours later, somewhat disorientated. I was glad to see Catherine, it gave me comfort which I tried to focus on rather than the pain. She had also been sleeping, her head resting against my body, my hand still nestled in hers.

'Catherine?' I moved my fingers to rouse her.

'You're awake!' She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 'How's the pain?'

'Milder than before. But not by much.' I admitted, reluctantly. I looked at her, at the expression in her eyes.

'It was poison, wasn't it? I've been around enough casualties to know this isn't a case of spoiled food. Besides, it doesn't feel natural.'

Catherine seemed to be drawing-up the courage to speak. This was bad. I tried to raise my position slightly.

'Catherine? What is it?' Her eyes glistened. I could tell many tears had been shed during my drugged slumber.

'Tell me.' I said, holding her hands tightly.

'I'm sorry.' She wiped the tears from her face, shaking her head. 'I'm so sorry, you were poisoned. This is my fault.'

'By whom?'

'We don't know yet. Not what the poison was, nor who planted it.'

'Then how have you come to the conclusion that it's your fault?'

Catherine laughed with scorn.

'My dear, as much as we like to claim we're peas in a pod, you do not have the enemies to incite this act of malice.'

'That we know of.' I replied thoughtfully.

'But there were dozens of people at the picnic. Surely it's impossible to guess who the poison was intended for? Certainly if we don't know who planted it. It could have been added to our picnic in error.'

'Charity, if you're trying to make me feel better, rest assured: it's not working. Whoever that poison was intended for, it was consumed by you and Nostradamus isn't even sure how to treat it.'

Her words unsettled me.

'You said he hasn't identified the poison yet?'

Catherine looked upset by the lapse in judgement with her words. I sighed, reaching-up to caress her cheek. She was enduring her own suffering in this. I couldn't bear her pain, any more than my own.

'My dear, sweet, kind Catherine.' She smiled in spite of herself.

'You're the only person in all of France who would use such words to describe me.'

'Maybe that's because I'm the only person who knows the real you.'

My eyes closed once more.

'Is the pain worse again?' she asked, concerned. I said nothing but I couldn't hide the pain from my face.

'I'll fetch Nostradamus.' She rose to her feet. 'He must have something stronger.'

I heard the door close as I surrendered to how deeply the pain took me. I didn't want to worry her, but it was intensifying in severity. If a cure didn't come soon, I would be praying for death.

Catherine met Nostradamus coming to find her. Bash and Francis were with him and none of them looked happy. She dreaded what was coming next.

'Nostradamus, she needs something for the pain. Something significantly strongly.' Catherine told him. 'She won't admit it to me, but she's getting worse.'

She looked so worried, it pained Francis to see his mother like that.

'I'll help her in a moment.'

'You have news?' she asked hopefully.

'We have… further information.' Bash supplied.

'Well, out with it!' Catherine snapped.

'Mother, try to control yourself.' Francis took her arm, speaking in a soft tone. He looked to Bash.

'The samples were checked with the Chef. There was a sweet among them which wasn't recognised. Not by him, nor any of the kitchen staff.'

He revealed a small parcel and unwrapped it: the almond sweet.

'These were not part of the foods prepared, not for any of the picnics.' Bash confirmed.

'No, he knows not to use almonds. I thought it was odd they were included.' Catherine remembered.

'The servants are being questioned.' he continued. 'Most didn't recognise them, but more than the usual kitchen staff were working to cover the demands of the picnics. One servant recalled the mention of something going down a treat "even if the Queen didn't personally get to enjoy them". She thought it was an odd comment, but she can't say who made it. She says she noticed the addition of the sweets after.'

Catherine swallowed down the implication of these words.

'But, that means…'

'You were not the one the poison was intended for.'

Their attention turned to the infirmary.

'This wasn't an accident.' Catherine said.

'Nor are you responsible.' Francis reminded her.

Bash handed the sample to Nostradamus, ready to begin his work.

From that moment Catherine was on a rampage, determined to find the culprit. As Queen, it had been natural to assume the poison was intended for her. This had consumed her with a deep anger, but also extreme guilt for the poison reaching my lips instead of hers.

Knowing the truth, however, that the poison had very much so been intended for my lips? That someone in her court had actively planted it for me? That fuelled her anger to an enraged fury and was the straw that finally tore her away from my bedside, on her mission to seek out the culprit and seek her revenge.

Ignoring their protestations, she joined Francis and Bash with their interrogations of the servants (or rather, she joined their investigations, turning them into interrogations). The servant girl bore the brunt of it, Catherine's temper directed solely at her, furious at her for not bringing the sudden appearance of the sweets.

'I'm sorry, Your Grace!' the poor girl was terrified. 'I didn't think to question it. I was only there to pack the food.'

Her words made no difference. Catherine ordered her to be locked in the dungeon, furious as she was. Bash reassured the girl she would be released in due course, but would likely be dismissed thereafter.

Meanwhile, Francis focused on trying to control his mothers emotional outbursts.

'We'll find him, whoever he is. It's taking time but we will find him. He's clearly within the castle, he has inside knowledge. Enough to know how to sneak poison in without detection. Let alone to know the perfect way to target Charity and skip you.'

'Unless that was just a coincidence and whoever it was would have been equally happy to poison us both.' Catherine said thoughtfully.

'Please don't think that way. We'll get to the bottom of this. You have my word.' he promised, kissing her cheek.

She headed back to the infirmary, suspicions now forming in her mind. She arrived to find Nostradamus leaving over my ailing body, despairing. His desk contained the messy remnants of his investigative work on the desk, but no antidote to speak of in sight.

'What is all this?'

'I'm so sorry, Catherine. She's getting worse and I still have no solution.'

A pained moan escaped my lips. Knowing I was still drifting between levels of consciousness and hallucinations, he didn't want to risk my hearing this. He summoned a servant to watch over me while they took to a private space.

'Nostradamus, just tell me.' Catherine sat down, burying her head in her hands.

'The poison. I've never come across it myself, but I've heard of its nature. It's vicious, but slow acting.'

'How slow?'

'Her pain levels will continue to increase significantly as the poison destroys her internal organs. Her body will eventually shut down, but she could suffer for days first.'

Catherine was horrified.

'Days? She's going to continue to suffer this crippling, agonising pain for DAYS until it kills her?!'

'Unless the fever succeeds in killing her sooner.' He surmised sadly.

'No.' Catherine was pacing. 'But… what of a cure? What can be done?'

Nostradamus hesitated.

'Nostradamus, what aren't you telling me?' she pressed, her temper rising.

He braced himself. She would not take this well.

'This poison… Catherine, there is no known cure.'

She turned to him in disbelief.

'Then MAKE ONE!'

They took a moment as the tension settled between the two. Until this moment, Catherine had not fully appreciated I might actually not survive this. Such was her expertise with potions that she hadn't anticipated for finding a solution.

But as the poison sank its teeth ever deeper into me, she felt herself losing all hope. Finally, the pains were so severe, Nostradamus had no choice but to give me the strongest sedative he could mix. Unable to rouse me, Catherine could only watch as echoes of a hidden pain remained etched on my face. I lay there, unresponsive, both our hearts breaking in kind.

To be continued...