He Chose the Wrong Sister novel · Chapter 14 of 24

Chapter 14: Cade, in the Fever

Cade's POV

I remember the floor coming up, and my wife's arm hard across my chest.

I remember the old surgeon's voice, the one from over the candle shop.

"Get that finger down his throat, my lady, and don't be gentle."

She wasn't gentle.

She held my head over the basin while the wine came up.

She swore at me in a low steady voice, and on any other night I'd have laughed.

Then the heat came.

It started in my belly and climbed until my skin felt too tight.

My heart ran fast and then stumbled.

I thought, so this is the kind of thing that stops it and leaves no mark.

"Monkshood," the surgeon said somewhere above me. "In honey and clove, to hide the bitterness."

He sounded angry.

"Whoever mixed it was a cook, not a poisoner. There was too little, or he'd be dead."

"Will he live?"

"If he drinks what I give him and doesn't die of stubbornness, yes."

"He's very stubborn."

"I know the type. I've dressed three of them in my time."

The room spun, and for a while it was only a roof of dark beams and my own breath.

Then there was a cool hand on my face.

"Cade."

"Wife."

"Drink this."

It tasted like burnt bark.

I drank it and lay back, and the candle swam.

For a long time I could hear her wringing cloths, shutting the window, opening it again.

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