Chapter XC: Leech
Isabella was seated on the floor, her face glowing with joy as she played with her son, Ikkar. The baby gurgled happily, clapping his small hands as Isabella made playful noises and waved a toy in front of him. Their laughter filled the room, casting a warm, light atmosphere around them. It felt like, for a brief moment, the world outside these walls didn't matter.
But the moment was interrupted when Alicent hurried into the room, her face tense with urgency. Isabella noticed the shift immediately and frowned. She sat back, her expression turning serious as Alicent plopped down beside her.
“Alicent, what is it?” Isabella asked, her voice low but laced with concern.
Alicent glanced at Ikkar, who was blissfully unaware of the tension, then looked back at Isabella. “I have news from the harem,” she said, her voice a whisper but carrying the weight of something important.
Isabella leaned forward, her heart rate quickening. “Tell me. What’s happened?”
“There are only five concubines left in the harem now,” Alicent began. “Talia, Marsali, Olma, Linze… and Dara.”
At the mention of Dara’s name, Isabella couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Her fingers tightened briefly around one of Ikkar’s toys as she muttered, “I wish she was gone already. She clings to her place like a leech.”
Alicent gave her a knowing look. “Well, that’s the other news I bring,” she said cautiously. “Dara is apparently very ill, which is why Lady Belet hasn’t been able to send her away yet.”
Isabella raised an eyebrow, her skepticism immediately rising. “How convenient,” she said with a sharp edge in her voice. “Dara falls ill right when the king starts releasing his whores.”
Alicent caught onto Isabella’s tone. “You say ‘convenient,’” she echoed, clearly intrigued by what Isabella might be implying.
Isabella looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, “You don’t think she’s faking it, do you?”
Alicent shook her head, her expression serious. “From what I’ve heard, she’s genuinely sick. Burning with fever, screaming for the king day and night. I heard it myself. The other concubines are rattled by it.”
Isabella’s stomach churned with unease. “Has the king gone to her?” she asked, dreading the answer, trying to disguise her discomfort.
Alicent hesitated, shaking her head slightly. “If he has, I haven’t heard of it.”
Isabella turned her gaze away, feeling an unsettling dread wash over her. Despite the king’s recent actions and his assurances that no other woman held his heart, the thought of Dara screaming for him, desperate and ill, left her feeling disturbed. Isabella had always known that Dara was tenacious and dangerous in her own way, a master at survival. But now, even weakened by sickness, she still somehow managed to weave herself into the fabric of Isabella's thoughts.
The king sat comfortably at the head of the table in his private chambers, the dim candlelight casting shadows across his face. He had chosen to eat here tonight, away from the grandeur of the main hall, opting instead for a quiet, intimate meal. Isabella joined him, her face pale and her mood distant. The soft clink of silverware was the only sound that broke the silence between them.
The king noticed her distraction almost immediately, and after a few bites, he set down his knife and fork. His sharp eyes studied her. “You look troubled,” he observed. “What’s on your mind, Isabella?”
Isabella hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on her plate. She fiddled with a piece of bread before softly speaking. “I heard about Dara’s illness,” she said quietly. “I heard that she’s been suffering a great deal.”
The king nodded slightly, his expression neutral. “Yes, I was informed of that.”
Isabella glanced up at him, her eyes betraying the concern she was trying to keep hidden. “Did you also hear that she’s been screaming for you? Begging for you to visit her?”
The king leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft sigh. “I did hear about that,” he replied, his tone calm. “But I figured Dara was likely being dramatic. I didn’t think it was worth upsetting you by visiting her.”
Isabella studied him closely, trying to read the expression on his face. She could see he was waiting for something—perhaps her approval or even her anger. She wasn’t sure which reaction he was expecting.
“Do you want to visit her?” she asked softly, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.
The king’s eyes flickered with surprise, as though he hadn’t expected such a question. He looked at her for a long moment, as if trying to decipher the intent behind her words.
Isabella gave him a small, resigned smile. “Dara was your favorite companion for years,” she said, her voice laced with calm understanding. “I know the two of you were once close. You almost married her. If you wish to see her, I would understand.”
The king remained silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “I will wait for Lady Belet’s next update on her condition. If Dara’s health continues to worsen, I will pay her a brief visit.”
He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at Isabella. “And if you’d like,” he added, “you’re free to accompany me.”
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