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“A sickness of the blood? How can that be? She was well enough yesterday.”

He reached the open door of the fragrant storeroom, where herbs hung in bunches from the ceiling. “These things can come on suddenly. I’ll bleed her today, and then we’ll see.” He went inside and shut the door.

I sat back down on the edge of her bed. It seemed more likely to me that too much wine, and perhaps that sleeping powder, were to blame, rather than a sudden onset of blood sickness. I smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “Wake up, Kyra. Please.”

Don, the Archidux’s servingman, came in carrying a small cloth bag. His height and the breadth of his shoulders made him seem like a giant moving among the beds. He paused when he saw us.

“Anna, right? Light fruit wine and berries in honey.”

Fatigue and worry made it hard to smile. “Hello.”

“What’s wrong with her?” He had a smooth, pleasant voice, not at all like his master’s growl.

“The medicus says it’s a blood sickness, but she was fine until last night. Would it really come on so suddenly?” I shot a glance toward the storeroom. “He doesn’t seem interested in my opinion, but she’s been drinking more wine than usual and taking a sleeping powder.”

He put his bag down. “Do you mind if I take a look? I have some medical training.”

I looked at him more closely. “I thought you were a servingman.”

Don knelt on the floor. “I’ve served His Grace for many years. My medical training comes in handy sometimes.”

“Should I move?”

“You can stay there.”

He put his ear to Kyra’s chest, closed his eyes, and listened. He touched her cheek gently with his massive fingers. She didn’t move. He lifted her eyelids and looked at the unseeing soft brown eyes. He put a hand on the bed frame. “I think you could be right about that sleeping powder.”

“Do you think there was something wrong with it?”

“I think she might have taken too much of it. Her pupils are very small, not wide the way yours or mine are right now.”

I found myself staring at his pupils: black openings ringed with a warm golden brown.

“That happens when a person has taken a powder made from papaver, a red flower. It relieves pain, and can help a person sleep deeply, but it’s dangerous to take too much.”

“I knew it wasn’t safe. I should have said something.” I took her limp hand in mine. “What will happen to her?”

“I’m not sure, Anna.” He got to his feet and picked up the cloth bag. “She might wake, but I’m sorry to say there’s a chance she might not.”

“Can you do something for her? Is there something in your bag that can help her? Please?”

He put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I wish I could. If you have any of that powder, please don’t take it. It’s something for dying soldiers to use, not young women.” He glanced toward the linen screen. “Forgive me, but I need to see someone else.”

“Who is over there?”

“The circus man who was injured last night. Seb—the Archidux—wants me to look at him.”

“I saw what happened.”

He shook his head. “What a terrible thing. Fortunately, I believe he will survive.” With a glance down at the bed and a grimace, he made his way through the cots toward the divider.

The idea that Kyra might not wake up was too terrible to think of. I took her hand and, imagining that we were just sitting together in the dormitory, told her quietly about the news she had missed: Camilla had returned at the end of last evening subdued but confident in a bid from the man with the medals. It turned out that he was a Legatus, recently retired from the army and very rich. She was welcome to him—and to his wine-soaked breath. Vesta believed that the gem merchant would bid for her, although her steely resolve betrayed nothing of how she really felt about it. What fate awaited the rest of us?

I was about to leave when the door opened, and Valentina came in. She looked around the nearly empty room, saw me, and her face tightened. For a moment I thought she might go right back out again. Instead, she closed the door behind her and walked toward us, her gauzy pink dress dragging on the stone floor. Her dark hair hung in a long braid down her back. She looked exhausted, as though she had been awake all night.

“How is she?” she asked.

The medicus stuck his head out the storeroom door, saw us talking, and withdrew.