*the following chapter has brief profanity*

Queue: Devils Don't Fly by Natalia Kills

MARE

"You're getting worse, Mare."

"Davidson, I've survived worse. A fever, some nausea, and fatigue didn't stop me from picking pockets at twelve and it's not going to stop me now. Trust me, a little flu is nothing. Besides, I don't want any special treatment and if we go to a healer there will be questions."

We walk through the administrative building, making our way to the conference room on the second floor.

"You've already missed two days of training. We need you at your strongest in two weeks. If you're not well enough by the end of the week we don't have a choice."

"Okay, I get it. Trust me, I'll be fine by then. My mom almost didn't let me leave the house this morning. And if it weren't for this briefing she would be tying me to the bedpost and pouring soup down my throat."

This brings a smile to Davidson's face.

"Sometimes I forget you're so young," he says. "You all are. Let's get this over with."

We finish climbing the stairs and head down the long hallway. "Getting tired of me already?"

"No, it's not just you. Being Premier can be just as draining as being a double agent."

I nudge him with my elbow, "I highly doubt that. Politics is one battlefield even I'm not brave enough to tackle."

"Trust me. I'd much rather be sitting out on the terrace getting drunk with my husband, watching overpowered children glare at each other, than do this."

I sigh, "That sounds like the life."

"At this point, it's more like a dream."

We reach the door, Davidson turns the handle and I walk through.

Of course, we are the last ones to enter. Everyone else is here, including Farley, the colonel, Cal and a few more generals as well.

"Now, let's get started shall we," Davidson says. I make my way to the seat next to Farley, very aware of Cal's gaze.

Alex debriefed me on how she and Jared were able to convince Cal that was really me he was talking to. It was a little more intense than I would like, but it got the job done.

"We have new information from our spies in Summerton," Davidson says. "Maven had decided to cut his vacation short and head back to Archeon. After the attack at the wedding, he wanted to put some distance between himself and Delphie."

"Coward," the colonel spits.

"He has every right to be," Cal interjects. "The Snapdragons were just a distraction to draw us outside, while three Lakelanders posing as guests, took out eighty people."

"Which is why we're here," Davidson says. "I've coordinated with the Rift and you with your grandmother. We've come to the conclusion we best end this now. We waited too long for the King to gather resources. We can't give him the opportunity to do it again."

"But what about his alliance with the Lakelands," one of the other generals asks. "He has the entire nation's army at his disposal. After the attack at the wedding, Maven is sure to close ranks."

"Not exactly," Davidson corrects. "We also have intelligence that confirms that the alliance is not as set in stone as it once was. After the death of King Orrec, the Lakelands Queen has been hesitant to supply more troops and well as funds. They've been pretending they are stronger than what they are."

Davidson doesn't look at me, not wanting to risk so much as a sideways glance, considering I'm the one who got him the information. And not in the way he thinks.

"But that still doesn't solve another problem," the colonel says. "Maven has probably taken ten times the precautions since we attacked his wedding. Getting behind the walls will be much more difficult."

"Not unless you have someone who knows the ends and outs of the entire city." Call says. "Ptolemus Samos was the head of Archeon city guard, as was his father before him. Maven may be smart, but he's not smart enough to know the channel within the city's security or the right precautions to change them. Samos can help."

I find Farley's hand underneath the table. I grasp it, reassuringly.

"And I'm sure they would be willing to help given all they've lost."

Cal says nothing to this. Instead, his eyes find mine and I muster a sympathetic look. What I see in his eyes is worry, as well as uncertainty. And I hope he doesn't see any signs that I'm sick.

Eventually, he breaks eye contact as Davidson addresses him. "Coordinate with Lerolan and I will do so with Samos," he says. Then he looks to each of us in turn. "Look alive everyone, this war is coming to an end."

I walk back to the house on my own. Needing the time to myself. Unfortunately, Cal decides otherwise.

I sense his heat first. For a moment I debate on continuing my way home, but I know that Cal will just follow me like a lost puppy, so reluctantly, I turn around.

Cal stops short almost colliding with me, I have to take a few steps back.

"What do you want, Cal."

"I want to talk."

I give an exasperated sigh. "Haven't we talked enough?"

"Mare, what happened at the wedding-"

"Cal, what happened doesn't change anything between us. We made our own choices and share different beliefs. You may be not ferrying married anymore but can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me you're done pursuing your crown? Your birthright?"

He says nothing.

Cal looks down, ashamed of his silent answer. If I still loved him, I might even be hurt. Instead, I feel nothing but pity.

"That's what I thought." I turn on my heel and leave him behind for what must be for the hundredth time.

The rest of the day drags on, but as the hours pass my energy began to drastically decline. Mom forced me into bed, I even heard her quietly curse the "no healer until absolutely necessary" rule. But just before dinner time I was dying of boredom and gathered enough willpower to climb out of bed. The room I shared with Gisa is as tidy as ever on her side. However, mine is a complete mess.

Piles of clothes lay in one chair, as well as a pair of running shoes and a pair of boots thrown into a corner.

Left with nothing better to do I attempt to clean up, knowing Gisa will scold me if I don't. I may look more like mom, but Gisa is closer to her in personality.

I make a half-assed attempt at folding the clean clothes. I'm in the middle of shoving them into a drawer when Kilorn walks in.

"I've seen a lot of crazy and unbelievable things, but you folding laundry? You must have gotten me sick because I think I'm hallucinating."

I don't have enough energy to do more than roll my eyes. But the rising corners of my lips betray me.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't I'll tell mom that you didn't."

That's all it takes and soon we're both folding. Though I would never say this out loud, Kilorn is actually better at this than I am. But I'm sure he knows it.

Halfway through, Kilorn accidentally picks up a bra and quickly throws it back down.

"It's not going to bite you," I say.

A bright red flush ebbs its way at the top of his ears. This time I can't hide my smile.

It's not like he hasn't seen it before.

But before I can tell him this a wave dizziness comes over me. It's not the first time this has happened, but it's enough for me to stop what I'm doing and press the heels of my hands to my eyes.

"Mare? You okay?"

Kilorn places his hand my shoulder to steady me. When I open my eyes the room isn't spinning anymore.

"Yeah, I just got a little lightheaded. I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine, you should lie back down."

"I will. Let's just finish this first." Kilorn is reluctant, but nods.

By the time we finish there is no room in the dresser so I put the remainder of the clothes in the top drawer of the nightstand. But as I open the drawer, I find a small object in the corner. It's so unassuming that I haven't thought about in over two months. I feel my fever rise with my rapidly beating heart.

Then the dizziness returns along with a ringing in my ears. I have enough time to place the clothes in the drawer and close it half way before my knees buckle.

I hear Kilorn say my name but it comes out as a distant echo. The room spins and tilts and the last thing I see is the flash of green eyes before everything goes dark.

Seconds or days pass by when I finally open my eyes. I expect to see the blinding fluorescent lights of an infirmary, but instead, I find Kilorn above me, shaking me.

"Mare," he says. "Mare, wake up. Are you okay?"

"I won't be if you don't stop shaking me," I mumble.

He lets a humorous huff and he pulls me to his chest, holding me so tight it hurts.

"Ow," I grumble.

Kilorn pulls back, "Sorry, you just collapsed and I had only a second to catch you. You were out for only a few seconds but...what happened?"

My mind goes back to those seconds before I blacked out. I shift my gaze on the nightstand, the drawer still partly opened.

"I don't know," I lie, this time hoping Kilorn can't tell. "Maybe I should have stayed in bed after all."

"Man you really are sick, admitting you're wrong is something only a fever has the power to do."

I smile at his attempt to make light of the situation, but I can tell he is unnerved by my loss of consciousness. I am too, but for a different reason.

"I'll go get your mom and help you back to bed."

I catch him by his arm, "No, don't. I don't want to worry her," I say.

"Mare, you fainted. That is something we should be worried about."

"Is it? I mean I talked to Davidson and he said that if I'm not strong enough by the end of the week then I'll see a healer and that'll be the end of it."

It's the truth, but only half a truth.

"Just help me back into bed and I'll be fine. I promise."

Kilorn is hesitant. And by the look on his face, I can see he doesn't want to take my word for it. But he sees the need in my eyes as well. And with a nod, he wraps his arm around me and helps me to my feet and helps me to the bed. He won't tell mom, but he does his best to play her role and tuck me underneath the covers. Then with one last look of concern hidden behind a reassuring smile, he walks out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

As soon as I'm sure he's gone I shift on the bed and pull the still half opened drawer all the way out. It takes some fumbling around but I eventually find what I'm looking for. I grasp my hand around it and bring it out in front of me.

Propping myself up on my elbow, I bring the plain capped bottle closer to examine.

I remember the day I got this.

I bring it up to my ear I hate to do it, but I flex my wrist back and forth, shaking it. The noise makes my stomach drop and I force my lunch back down my throat.

I want to hear a loud rattle, evidence that the bottle is near empty of its contents. But I knew I wouldn't hear it before I even shook it. Because when I do shake it, I hear only a faint rattle.

The bottle is full.

And I am royally fucked.

ANALYSIS

Let's make this quick cause I have to get to posting the next chapter.

I chose the chapter title because it represents one of my ongoing themes.

Kilorn is better at folding laundry because he lived his whole life without parents. And in the first book, it states that Kilorn lived by himself in the Stilts. So he would have to figure things out for himself, but I do think it entirely possible that Ruth Barrow could have taught him a thing or two given how motherly she is toward him King's Cage.

And as for everything else, leave a review. I want to know what you think.

Remember, I have a plan.