Her eyes felt like there was sand in them and her tongue felt like it didn’t belong to her when she gained consciousness. The ceiling was out of focus, but her brain sluggishly reminded her that this was what she had seen the last time she opened her eyes.
An agonised groan escaped her lips. She heard the rustling of cloth then a voice whispered, “Your Grace?”
She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at an anxious looking Beth. Her head felt heavy, but the pounding pressure was gone. Her eyes slid shut. It felt like there was sand down her throat too.
She swallowed a few times in vain before croaking, “Am I dead?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Shame.” Artizia sighed. She pushed herself into a sitting position with trembling arms. It was an unfamiliar sensation. When was the last time her body had felt so weak? Strong hands helped pull her upright and Margaret expertly fluffed the pillows before helping her lean back.
“Water.” She murmured. It felt like it had been months since she last had a taste of liquid. A glass quickly appeared before her. She gulped it down and held it out. “More.”
The doctor must have been on standby nearby because she was at the bedside as she was downing the fifth glass of water. It wasn’t until her glass was refilled and emptied another two times that she finally sat back, feeling slightly better.
“How are you feeling, Your Grace?”
Artizia looked at the woman who had been waiting patiently.
“Bad.” She said blandly.
“I see,” the doctor said. “Does it hurt anywhere?”
“No, but I’m sore all over.” She looked past the doctor at the haggard appearance of her maids. The way they were looking at her and how stiff her body felt made her suspicious. “How long have I been unconscious for?”
“Two days,” came the reply.
Oh? Shorter than she guessed. Artizia tipped her head in surprise. She couldn’t remember anything after the meeting with that strange being.
The doctor held out her hand. “May I perform an examination?”
She placed her hand in the outstretched hand. “What is your name, doctor?”
“Morgan Rassmann, Your Grace.”
“What happened to me, Ms Rassmann?”
“I was hoping to ask you that, Your Grace.” Morgan said as she felt for Artizia’s pulse.
“You don’t know?”
“You have been unresponsive for the past two days, only briefly waking a few hours after you were brought home by His Grace. There have been no abnormalities with your body… it was like you had fallen asleep.”
Artizia was silent while she processed what the doctor told her. Nothing she said was a surprise. Artizia clearly remembered the moment when she fainted at the play and when she woke up earlier. Hadn’t it happened moments ago?
“I can’t help you, Ms Rassmann. You seem to know more than me.” She said wryly.
“Would you please answer some questions then?”
She hummed with a nod in reply.
“Your Grace,” Margaret spoke for the first time since she gained consciousness. Artizia looked at her in askance. “Master Leo wishes to speak with you.”
Artizia exhaled messily and nodded. It was a vain wish that Leo hadn’t heard of what happened to her yet. She wondered who told him. Was it the Duke?
She continued eating the soup that had been placed across her lap while her maids set up the device at the foot of the bed. She nodded again for them to connect the call. It wasn’t like she had to worry about manners in front of him.
Beth inserted a small black rock into the rectangular device. With a short buzz an image popped up and hovered in the air. It was a face like hers. Sharp golden eyes met her own. Leo’s expression was impassive for a while, then a smirk broke across that handsome face.
“You’re not as dead as they made you out to be.”
“You must have heard from Father, then.” She observed, finishing the last of the soup. As the tray was cleared, she added, “I thought His Grace would have told you first.”
“He was probably afraid I’d punch him, that coward,” Leo scoffed. “The first day of your honeymoon and you already caused a scene. I thought you wanted this marriage?”
“Your presumption wounds me, brother,” she said expressionlessly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
The man in the image snorted. The corners of her lips twitched upwards. It was a good thing that there were no other witnesses here. Her brother was reputed to be a polite and serious heir to the Byzenkarian dukedom. Not many knew what he was really like.
After a brief pause, Leo asked, “The doctor didn’t find anything?”
She shook her head in response. His eyes flickered to Margaret who was standing by her elbow. She, too, shook her head. He sighed.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Is that a trick question?” She asked with a faint smirk. “I’m stiff and sore and it feels like someone poured sand down my throat. I didn’t feel any of this when I was unconscious.”
“It sounds like you’re fine.” Leo said, shaking his head lightly. He paused before adding, “I will be visiting Durich with Mikhail at the end of the season.”
“Oh?” She perked up. “Mikhail’s coming?”
“I will be there too.”
She waved a hand at his words. “No need. I’m sure he can handle everything on his own.”
Her brother clicked his tongue at her. “Keep talking and I’ll leave him behind.”
Artizia made a face at him but kept silent.
“Since I’ve confirmed you’re alive, I’ll end the call,” Leo said. “Don’t cause Alex any more trouble.”
The image disappeared before she could retort. Artizia sighed.
“Help me up,” she said to Margaret who took her raised arm obligingly. “It’s stuffy in here.”
“How is she?”
Leo looked up at the man who had just entered his office with a sheaf of documents in hand. “Fine.”
“The doctor found nothing?”
“Apparently not,” he replied. He tapped a finger on the desk thoughtfully. “We should make sure.”
“I’ll get in touch with Durich,” the other man said, settling into the seat across his desk. He passed over the handful of documents. “These need your signature.”
“Make preparations to head there at the end of the season.” Leo instructed as he picked up a pen and began signing the papers.
“Is this an official visit?”
He hesitated before asking, “Do we have business with them?”
The other man’s sigh was long-suffering. Leo avoided looking up, lest the guilt showed on his face. There was a brief contemplative silence, then, “There is a trade proposal that Zedaker has been working on. It should be ready by the end of next month.”
“Good. Tell Alex when you contact him.”
“Very well.” He stood, accepting the documents that Leo held up. Instead of leaving, he remained still until the Marquess looked up at him in askance. Leo’s expression instantly darkened at the pleasant smile on his face. “This means I win, right?”
“The one time I have faith in my sister--” Leo grumbled, “—she fails me.”
Mikhail didn’t bother to conceal his satisfaction. “It must be because I’m her favourite.”
Leo eyed the standing man suspiciously. “Did you tell her?”
“Of course not. That’s a violation of the rules.” He continued as he strode toward the door, “I’ll be taking next Friday off.”
He heard the huff of annoyance and could easily imagine the face that Leo was making behind his back. Mikhail managed to keep it together until he exited the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, he let out a soft chuckle.
“Everything alright, Sir?” the young secretary stationed by the door asked.
“Yes,” he replied, giving her a smile. “Nothing to worry about.”
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