A few days after the party, Westalia paid a visit to the rooms of the first empress candidate. Elizabeth’s residence was located exactly opposite from Westalia’s.
“Are you really going to visit her?” Paige asked. “She’s your rival!”
“I know, but I’m still worried about her,” Westalia replied. She hadn’t heard from Elizabeth at all since her collapse. Perhaps she didn’t want to tell Westalia about her recovery because they were rivals, but Westalia couldn’t help but wonder if she was feeling better. She certainly hoped the woman wasn’t still lying on the floor.
“You might seem like a villainess on the outside, but you’re actually pretty kind, aren’t you?” Paige asked.
“Is that a compliment? Or are you being mean?” Westalia replied.
“Half-and-half, I’d say.”
“I can’t help but note your lack of respect for your employer,” Westalia said. Verbally sparring as usual, the pair arrived at Elizabeth’s quarters. Westalia called out to one of the ladies’ maids, who led them to Elizabeth’s bedroom.
“The duke ordered me not to let anyone enter this room,” the lady’s maid said, looking at Westalia somewhat fearfully. Even when Elizabeth’s friends had come to check on her, they’d been turned away on Tiberio’s orders. He’d said that he was sorry to turn down the goodwill from his daughter’s friends but that Elizabeth needed to recuperate in solitude.
“Well, then you can’t let me pass, can you?” Westalia said. “I’ll leave.” She stepped back gracefully.
“Wait!” the lady’s maid cried and grabbed Westalia’s arm. “Miss Elizabeth is so exhausted that she hasn’t been able to eat properly for the past few days. She needs someone to help her. Please!”
Westalia and Paige exchanged glances at the maid’s impassioned plea.
“I don’t really know what’s going on, but I won’t tell anyone I entered this room,” Westalia said. She would have to act carefully so the maid wouldn’t be blamed for breaking Tiberio’s orders.
Westalia put her hand on the large door and gently pushed it open. Elizabeth was sitting on the bed in a state of disarray, her hair disheveled and her body covered with cuts. She looked at Westalia with vacant, lifeless eyes, then seemed to come to her senses when she realized that it was her rival who had entered.
“Hey! What happened to you?” Westalia cried, rushing over to Elizabeth. She looked even worse than at the party. Her rash was still the same, but now she had wounds all over her body that were a separate problem entirely.
“Was she whipped?” Paige asked quietly as she checked Elizabeth’s wounds.
Westalia couldn’t discern from a quick look at the wounds what had caused them. But Paige, a former slave, might have been whipped in the past, or seen wounds caused by a whip at least.
“I just fell down,” Elizabeth said, clearly lying, as she held her arms close to her to hide her wounds. Then she glared at Westalia. “What are you two doing here? My father said no one was to enter.”
The lady’s maid was standing in a corner of the room, her eyes darting about anxiously.
“It’s a recon mission,” Westalia replied without mentioning that she had been let in.
“A recon mission,” Elizabeth said flatly.
Then Paige took the liberty of speaking for Westalia and held out a basket of fruit. “My lady was terribly worried about you, to the point where she couldn’t sleep at night, so she came to check on you.”
“You don’t need to go that far,” Westalia chided.
“My lady has trouble speaking frankly, so I came on her behalf.”
“You don’t need to point that out,” Westalia said.
“I’ve always been praised for my attentiveness,” Paige shot back.
“Was this in some daydream of yours?” Westalia asked, pinching the cheek of her brazenly lying knight.
A small smile bloomed on Elizabeth’s lips. Then her shoulders shook as she started to laugh.
“Watching you two makes me forget what I’m worried about. You’re so weird,” Elizabeth said after she got her laughter under control. At that moment, a sad gurgle came from Elizabeth’s stomach. And not just once. The sound happened again and again. Elizabeth blushed at how obvious her hunger was. That reminded Westalia about the lady’s maid’s concerns.
Seeing as how Elizabeth had laughed at her, Westalia figured this was a good chance to poke back.
“Is that the infamous Elizabeth Pink?” she asked, pointing to the blush staining Elizabeth’s cheeks.
“You’re really not so bad,” Elizabeth conceded.
Westalia plunked the basket they’d brought down on the bed and showed Elizabeth its contents.
“Is there anything in here you can eat? You should eat properly. If you don’t want fruit, just let me know and I’ll get you something else. It won’t take long,” Westalia said.
“An apple...” Elizabeth said.
“Okay! We’ll peel it for you.”
Westalia asked the lady’s maid to fetch a fruit knife and plate, then sat down on a chair next to the bed. Paige peeled the fruit with a practiced hand.
“Is there anything I can do to help? I’ll do whatever I can. You can count on me,” Westalia said.
“Why are you being so kind to me? I’m your rival, and I have done nothing but try to sabotage you,” Elizabeth replied.
“What you’ve done to me and what’s happened to you are two totally separate things,” Westalia said.
“I don’t need your help,” Elizabeth said, quickly looking away and showing her stubborn streak.
It was easy for Westalia to imagine what Elizabeth had gone through, even without her explaining. On the day of the party, Elizabeth had appeared frightened of Tiberio when they were dancing together. She’d always put on a show of being strong, but in front of her father, her expression had been downcast, and even when she collapsed, she hadn’t wanted to turn to him for help. Tiberio, too, had shown no signs of concern for his daughter’s poor health, indicating that the two did not have a healthy relationship. And now Elizabeth was covered in cuts. Since Elizabeth was the daughter of a ducal family, the only people Westalia could think of who could do this to her were people of higher rank or her own relatives.
The lady’s maid had said earlier that Tiberio had forbidden anyone from entering Elizabeth’s room, so Westalia surmised that Tiberio himself was almost certainly the one who had done this. Westalia sympathized: Her own parents had never loved her, and she’d been at the mercy of the former queen, which had led her to suffer for a long time. Even those who seemed to be blessed often had complicated circumstances going on in the background.
Paige placed the cut apple on a plate and handed it to Elizabeth, along with a fork.
I can’t afford to be nice to my rival, but I can’t ignore her either, Westalia thought. The only sound in the room now was Elizabeth munching the apple.