Edward's face soured, and he stroked his chin. "He was injured before we fought with Jack, and, well, perhaps it would be best to see him for yourself. I would wish to speak with Alexandre and Victoria soon besides."
Edward left the study and led Anne, William, and Sam to the room on the first floor where Herbert was. The crewmates who had gone to see him were waiting at the door, and they greeted Edward with joyful but muted expressions, which quickly reverted to sullen. Edward opened the door, and a distinct smell of rot mixed with chemicals and herbs met Anne's nose.
Inside, Alexandre and Victoria were standing in a corner near the door, there was an attendant at the other corner, and Christina was sitting beside a bed where Herbert lay. Christina was weeping as she held Herbert's hand.
Anne rushed over to see Herbert's eyes open and alert. He was still alive, but judging from the looks on the faces there, it was not a good prognosis.
She placed her hand on Christina's back, and Christina looked at her. Christina opened her mouth to say something, but she burst into fresh new tears. Anne leaned down and hugged the young woman as she sobbed.
After a few moments, Christina was able to compose herself, though not entirely.
"Glad to see you well, Anne," Herbert said. His voice was hoarse and weak, and with each breath, there was a guttural noise from his throat.
"I am happy to see you as well, Herbert. We sorely missed you these past weeks, but your sister makes a fine helmsman. She managed the ship well in your stead."
Herbert smiled, but then had a coughing fit. He coughed hard for a full minute before he was able to stop and then he took a few deep breaths. "That is good to hear. The Queen Anne's Revenge will be well cared for."
Christina's head sank, and she gripped the folds of her pants until her knuckles were white. She didn't need to hear it spoken aloud, for it was clear that Herbert was not long for this world. There was nothing Alexandre could do for him in this state. Whatever injury he suffered must have been infected, and they had failed to treat it in time.
Anne touched Christina's hands, and the young girl looked up at her. Her eyes, filled with grief, pleaded to Anne, begging her to do something.
She looked at Herbert, unable to bear Christina's gaze. "We will let you alone with your sister," she said.
Anne and the rest left the room. Outside, Anne questioned Alexandre.
"So, there is truly no hope? What of the herb from Pukuh's home that you used on me those years ago?"
Alexandre waved his hand. "No two infections are alike, you should know this," he said. "Herbert's has reached his lungs. Even should we use the medicine, it would only prolong his suffering. There is no cure for him."
Anne shook her head. "How long does he have?"
Alexandre crossed his arms in thought. "Perhaps a few days, perhaps a week. It is hard to say."
Edward appeared unfazed. He had been with Herbert from the time the infection began and appeared to know that it was dire. Alexandre was his last hope, but not one he had been holding out for, it seemed.
"Victoria, I'd like to speak with you alone about a matter involving my father. Join me in the study," he said. "And I suppose, Alexandre, you may join, as I know trying to keep you out will be a futile matter." Edward looked at Anne. "Not to worry, my dear, this won't take long."
Edward left, and Alexandre and Victoria followed behind him, leaving Anne and William waiting. Anne wondered just what it was that he wanted to talk with them about.
…
Christina, alone with Herbert, couldn't hold back the tears any longer and began crying again. She felt as though she had done nothing but cry for the past week and a half. Crying over what she had done to Anne, crying over her weakness that had allowed it to happen, and now crying over her brother's inevitable demise. She hated it.
Her hands instinctively went to her rose necklace. The necklace became a totem of loss and serenity. When she touched it, she felt calmed. It brought her comfort as she ran her finger along the intricate grooves.
Ochi, her first love, Nassir's son, had given it to her as a gift—a gift expressing his affection for her. She had been wearing it ever since.
Ochi had died. She had loved him, and he had died, and a piece of her died along with him.
Everyone close to her was dead or dying. She hated it.
She ripped the necklace off her and pulled it back, ready to throw it against the wall. She gritted her teeth and looked at the wall, but she couldn't do it. She lowered her hand onto her lap and looked at the rose again. She traced the lines, the curves of the small petals made by a skilled hand, a hand cut short before his prime, and she calmed herself.
She wiped her eyes and glanced at her brother. "What am I going to do when you're gone? You are all that I have left in this world."
There was a moment of silence, then Herbert said, "Do you mock me?"
Christina's jaw dropped. "How could you say that?"
"I recall I said those exact words to you once before," Herbert said before a few weak coughs. "And you said to me 'We are—'"
"Your family," Christina finished.
Herbert nodded. "You were talking of the crew. You have so many aboard that ship who care for you, who love you, and would die for you."
"The crew doesn't share my blood; you do. The crew weren't there for me when Mother and Father died; you were. The crew didn't support me by joining a
