Just then, Quinn’s attention was drawn up and behind Becka. She spun around and saw a lone fae guard running towards them.
“What is it now?” she said.
They walked toward the guard. The rest of the shifters, including Luce and Lorelai, rounded the edge of the labyrinth to meet them.
Becka didn’t get an opportunity to even ask why the guard was running.
“Hurry, Lady Becka! Duke Vott’s awake!”
Chapter 26
They jogged across the estate until Becka ran out of steam and had to slow to what felt like a crawl.
“You want me to carry you?” Quinn asked.
She was tempted, but then immediately thought about the face Maura would have if she saw Becka in Quinn’s arms. “Heck, no.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
Becka panted, sucking down breath. “I’m not about to let you carry me anywhere. I’m gonna walk myself all the way there.”
His rich baritone rumbled through the air. “Either Luce or Lorelai could…”
“Nope. I’ve got this.”
“You might be the most independent, stubborn fae I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll take it.” Becka smiled, liking the compliment despite her ire.
“In this moment, that wasn’t a compliment,” Quinn said.
They arrived a few minutes later and Illan met them in the main infirmary. The shifters and other guards waited out in the hall; only Quinn followed her inside.
“How’s he doing?” Becka asked, breathless.
Frowning, Illan pulled on latex gloves and checked Becka’s pulse. “Vott is weak but has his wits about him. Duchess Maura and Elder Alaetha are in with him now, but he said to send you right in as soon as you arrived.”
She knew that was only half of the story. “What about his gift?”
“He reports that his gift has gone silent. It was the first thing he said upon waking.”
Pain gripped Becka’s chest and the corners of her eyes watered. “I knew it was likely, considering they dosed him with the Treatment, but I’d hoped.”
Illan patted her shoulder. “We all did, Lady Becka.”
She drew in a deep breath, held it a second, and then blew out slowly. The heat in her cheeks didn’t fade. Vott and Hanna both had lost their gifts because of Becka’s actions, accidental as they were. Was this how her life would be, a string of people injured because of her?
Becka couldn’t let that happen. She needed to find a way for others to be safe around her. Is perfect control too much to ask for?
Perhaps Quinn was right, and others would rightly fear her. If she’d intended to harm others, Becka could have left a trail of carnage in her wake. She’d have to demonstrate to the masses that she was nothing like they feared, but how?
More importantly in this moment, did Vott blame her for his loss, as Hanna had? The possibility sat heavy on her heart.
Becka tried to plaster a smile on her face, but she just couldn’t, so she walked forward, teary-eyed. Quinn hung back in the doorway, out of sight but no doubt not out of earshot.
Vott lay on the bed in the corner, propped to nearly sitting on a stack of pillows. White linens surrounded him, and his long white hair stood at all angles despite obvious attempts to groom him while he’d been unconscious. Elder Alaetha sat on a couch which might have been brought into the room just for her, as Becka didn’t recall it being there before. Maura sat on a chair pulled up close to the bed, his hands in her own, her expression full of rare tenderness. His pallor was almost ghost-white, and the sheen in his eyes had paled from his usual sunny gold to an unhealthy dull yellow.
To Becka’s surprise, she wasn’t the only one shedding a tear. Vott and Maura were sharing a rare, vulnerable moment together, their love laid bare to any who might see despite the others present in the room. How was it that people, in times of deep emotion, could appear so relatable? So real?
Becka paused. “Vott? May I come in?”
When he saw her his eyes lit with recognition, his lighthearted expression sobering into a frown. Anxiety gripped her solar plexus, making breathing difficult. Was that concern, or anger?
“Becka! Come in. Come closer.”
Becka walked over, glad the windows in the stuffy, convalescent room had been opened. Vott held out his hand, and Becka hesitated, despite wearing the gloves. Despite knowing he’d already lost his gift.
Her gut burned with the sinking weight of guilt, yet she took his hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Alaetha frowned.
“I am glad to see you well,” Vott said.
A tear ran down her cheek, a combination of guilt over her role in his inadvertent poisoning and relief beyond measure that he didn’t appear to hate her as Hanna did. “I’m so sorry, Vott.”
“No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t take the song of the wind from me.”
“If I hadn’t poured my tea into your mug…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Becka,” he said, the sharp edge of his words cutting through the room. “Now, Maura just told me someone poisoned you a second time?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’ve recovered.” When he frowned at her, she continued. “Mostly. I’m still fatigued.”
“Becka has risen to the occasion,” Maura said. “She’s even started attending council meetings and assumed oversight of the shifter guards while you were catatonic.”
“Have you?” he asked, a doubtful frown painting his brow, and Becka shrugged. No doubt he knew Brent managed the shifters himself, but she wouldn’t explain that to Maura now. “I’m glad to hear it, but that’s not why I called for you.”
“What did you need?” she asked, surprised he didn’t appear interested in her activities, as it had been the focus of so many of their discussions.
“Maura has been explaining the investigation’s findings. I understand you haven’t found the poisoner yet?”
Fatigue kicking in after her sprint-walk here, Becka pulled up a chair and sat down. “No, they continue to elude us. What do you remember about the poisoning?”
“I remember seeing that
