By the time they reached the Brums’ chambers, her clothes were soaked through with sweat. Trembling, Nina seized hold of the washbasin and vomited into it, then slid down to the floor. Her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer.
Bless Hanne’s strength, because she must have dragged Nina to her bed and gotten her into a nightgown. Nina knew she was going to pass out. She had seized Hanne’s hand.
“Make him sick,” she demanded.
“What?”
“Hanne, go back to the party and act as if nothing is wrong. I need you to weaken the prince.”
“But Rasmus—”
“Please, Hanne,” Nina begged, clutching her fingers. “Do this for me.”
Hanne brushed the hair back from Nina’s sweat-slicked face. “All right,” she said. “All right. Just promise me you’ll rest.”
Only then had Nina let herself sink beneath the waves. And that was where she had remained, buried beneath the covers, all through the night and the following day. Hanne came and went. She tried to get Nina to eat. But it was as if Nina heard her from far away. She was floating somewhere quiet and she wanted to stay there, wrapped in silence. There was too much pain waiting on land.
Until she’d heard Brum’s voice outside her room.
“I don’t care if she’s ill. I don’t care if she’s on her deathbed. If the queen wishes to see her, then that fishmonger’s wife will drag herself out here.”
Queen Agathe. Dimly, Nina remembered what she’d said to Hanne. Her instincts had taken over and she’d had the sense to set this new deception working. But she had to pull herself together to capitalize on it.
“Surely if it’s something she ate, she’s feeling better?” said Ylva. “She must see the queen.”
“I don’t have time for this. I have to be outside the ringwall in a half hour for Drokestering. I won’t keep my men waiting for the sake of a simpleton with a weak constitution.”
Drokestering. Nina tried to remember the word. It was old Fjerdan, a drüskelle celebration of victory in war. It was held in the woods, usually for an entire night.
“I’ll get her,” said Hanne. “Just … just give me a moment to make her ready.”
Nina pushed herself to a sitting position. Her skin had the sour smell of sweat and fear on it. Her hair was tangled, and she was dizzy from lack of food and water.
“You’re up!” Hanne said, rushing to Nina’s bedside. “Djel’s grace, I thought you might slip away from me forever.”
“I’m up,” Nina croaked.
Hanne poured her some water. “Nina, the queen’s servants are here. They’ve brought a litter. She says she heard you were taken ill and wishes for you to see her personal doctor.”
Nina highly doubted that was what the queen wanted.
“Do you have anything to eat?” she asked.
“I can get you some broth or some dry toast. Did you hear me? The queen—”
“I heard you. A cup of broth, please.”
“You should wash too.”
“Rude.”
“Honest.”
Nina didn’t have time for a bath, so she rinsed as best she could with cold water from the basin and dabbed her body with perfume. She didn’t mind the chill. She needed anything that would wake her.
She ran a brush through her hair, but there was nothing she could do about the sallow color of her skin or the circles beneath her eyes.
“Hanne, can you help me?” Nina asked when she returned with the broth. “I need you to tailor me. Can you make me look…”
“Less like a corpse?”
“Better. Saintly.”
Hanne moved her over to the window for better light. Her hands traced Nina’s face in soft strokes.
“You don’t have to hold your breath,” Hanne said.
Nina bit her lip.
“Stop that!” said Hanne, grabbing her chin. “You’ll ruin my work.”
“Sorry.”
Hanne’s cheeks flushed and she released Nina’s chin. She focused on her hair instead.
“Has your father said anything about the missing letters?” Nina asked.
“I haven’t heard him mention them to anyone, and they haven’t instituted new security protocols as far as I know.”
Then Brum couldn’t have realized they were missing yet, but he would as soon as that safe was opened.
“There!” Hanne said a moment later. “Done.”
“So fast?”
Hanne handed her a mirror. “See for yourself.”