Breakfast proved to be no improvement over the rest of the day.
Aldric was absent, occupied with court matters as usual. However, instead of dealing with Elena’s sharp tongue like the day before, Islinda found herself enduring Karle’s unwelcome company at the table. From the outset, Islinda and Karle had never seen eye to eye, so it was no surprise that breakfast became strained.
Karle and Elena dominated the conversation, oblivious to Islinda’s presence as they chatted loudly. She chose to ignore them, finding solace in their disregard. Unsurprisingly, Karle seemed more interested in learning about Elena’s family and her role in the summer court than in antagonizing Islinda.
It was painfully obvious that Karle was attracted to Elena. Who wouldn’t be? She possessed both beauty and intelligence, hailed from a prestigious family, qualities highly prized among the high Faeries.
Yet, Islinda couldn’t shake her disdain for Elena. In her eyes, Elena was nothing more than conniving, ambitious, and unpleasant. And her assessment had nothing to do with their rivalry over Aldric. Islinda simply saw through pretense. Why couldn’t others see through her act? It was beyond her.
As Islinda tried to keep to herself to avoid clashes with Karle, boredom settled over her like a heavy fog. She quietly ate her food, resigned to her loneliness. Yet, fate had other plans.
Just as Islinda swallowed a mouthful of the creamy mushroom soup, a piece lodged in her throat, causing panic to surge through her.
Initially, she coughed, hoping to dislodge it with a sip of water, but to no avail. The obstruction felt stubborn, like a piece of stone lodged in her throat. Despite the tender cooking of the mushrooms, Islinda found herself in distress.
Karle and Elena remained engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to her plight. Tears welled in Islinda’s eyes as she struggled to breathe, her wild-eyed expression unnoticed until she began to choke violently.
Finally, the others at the table snapped to attention, the servants acting swiftly to assist her before Karle’s concern was aroused, his brows furrowing in worry.
"Miss Islinda."
"Milady, are you okay?"
"What is going on?"
"I think she’s choking."
"Somebody call a healer before she dies."
"Do humans die like this?"
"Is there not a way to help her?"
"She’s all red! I don’t think she would make it till the healer arrived. Is there something we can do?"
The urgency in their voices mirrored the panic in Islinda’s mind as she fought for breath, eveyone scrambling to aid Islinda in her moment of peril
A cacophony of voices rose around her and Islinda’s head swarm from all the commotion. Why was this happening to her? Today was certainly cursed. Someone must have thrown quick black blows from behind her to dislodge the blockage yet nothing happened.
It was in the midst of that commotion that Karle finally sprang into action, his reflexes sharp as he leaped from his seat and rushed to Islinda’s side. With practiced precision, he positioned himself behind Islinda and wrapped his arms around her waist, forming a firm grip.
In one fluid motion, Karle executed the Heimlich maneuver, exerting forceful thrusts against Islinda’s abdomen. The room fell silent as everyone watched with bated breath, tension thick in the air.
This calculated attack felt different, more insidious—a subtle strike orchestrated by someone cunning and conniving. Elena, the green snake in their midst. Islinda clenched her fist unconsciously. This was no ordinary feud—it was a battle for survival.
Returning to the refuge of her room, Islinda paced back and forth, her mind consumed by troubling thoughts. Faes were creatures deeply connected to the elements, their powers attuned to the seasonal courts they served. Yet, the inexplicable occurrences—Elena summoning a deadly snake and the mysterious transformation of her food—defied all logic. It felt like the work of magic, but not the elemental magic wielded by Faes. No, this was something darker, something akin to witchcraft.
Witches were known for their mastery of spells, and the idea that Elena could possess such abilities sent shivers down Islinda’s spine. Could it be that Elena had placed a charm on her? Islinda checked her body for any signs of mystical influence, but found none.
Could Elena have used her name? Aldric had mentioned the secrecy surrounding Fae middle names, considering them sacred. It was a possibility that sent a chill down Islinda’s spine.
Or perhaps, she had paid a witch to make her life miserable. That was not beyond Elena, after all, she was a rich, powerful, bored and jobless Fae. Having a witch in her service should not be hard. Thus, Islinda’s head spun with conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions, leaving her no closer to a solution.
Midway through her contemplation, Islinda’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of her door being kicked open. She tensed, dreading what—or who—might be on the other side. Her grimace deepened as Aldric strode into the room, his presence commanding attention.
On one hand, Islinda resented Aldric for not joining her for a meal, too preoccupied with court matters to spare her even a moment of his time. Yet, on the other hand, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude that he had rushed to her side at the first hint of danger to her life.
As Aldric approached, his dark aura looming over her like a shadow, Islinda braced herself for the impending confrontation.
"I can explain..." Islinda began, lifting her hand to stop him before he could rush towards her, but Aldric’s hands were already frantically checking her body.
When he saw that Islinda was unharmed, Aldric’s anger bubbled to the surface, his voice booming as he shouted in her face, "Do I have to spoon-feed you just to keep you from dying, for Fae’s sake!"
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