Chapter 27: Rose
I didn’t see Caleb again for the next few days. Even if I hadn’t come down with the flu and been forced to stay in bed, I would have still avoided him as he avoided me.
I guessed that the flu had been brought on by standing too long on the balcony. I had a headache and didn’t feel like eating anything.
When I showed no signs of getting better after the fifth day in bed, I began to worry. It wasn’t like there were any doctors on call here. Normally when we got sick, Corrine took care of us. I was too shaken by our last encounter to want to approach Caleb for anything.
So I lay in bed, getting up to stoke the fire every once in a while, and wearing the coat wrapped tightly around me beneath the blanket.
By the seventh day, Caleb must have suspected that something was wrong. Frieda entered my room and walked over to my bed. One look at me, and she hurried back out.
Do I really look that awful?
She returned half an hour later with Caleb. His face appeared hazy as I looked up at him. His cold hand touched my forehead. I experienced some relief the moment his skin touched me. His hand was better than any cold towel.
“She has a fever,” he muttered to Frieda. “A very high fever. Stay in this room until I get back. Make sure the fireplace remains hot. This room still feels too cold. Also make sure all the windows are shut tightly.”
He walked out of the room and Frieda went about her duties.
I must have drifted off by the time he returned. But I was woken by his cool palm on my forehead once again.
“Sit up,” he said.
Frieda propped up cushions behind me and he reached around me as he pulled me into a sitting position. He sat down on the bed next to me and held a metal cup out in front of me.
“You need to drink this.”
I stared at it. A strange dark brown substance. Clasping it in my hands, I sniffed it.
“Ugh,” I groaned, nauseated by its pungent smell.
“Drink.”
He pushed the cup against my lips, and, supporting the back of my head with his hand, tipped some of the liquid into my mouth.
It burnt the inside of my mouth as soon as it entered, and singed my throat as I swallowed it.
“Ah!” I cried out. “No. No any more. Please don’t make me—”
But he was already gripping the back of my head and tipping more of the liquid through my lips.
I choked and complained again, but he ignored all my protests, forcing me to continue drinking until I had downed the very last drop.
“Give her some water now,” he said to Frieda.
She handed me a glass of water. I drank it down in a few gulps. Still the foul taste lingered on my tongue. I slid back down beneath the covers and glared up at Caleb.
“What the hell was that?“
“A potion,” he said.
“The witch made it?”
He shook his head.
“The witch isn’t here right now.”
Hm. That would explain a lot.
“Then who?”
“I made it.”
I stared up at him. Dancer. Musician. Potion-maker. The more time I spent with this man, the less I felt I knew about him.
“So can you do spells too?”
He shook his head again. “I’ve just spent enough time around witches to have picked up a trick or two.”
He forced me to drink that foul liquid three times a day. He personally made sure that I swallowed every last drop. As revolting as it was, I couldn’t deny that each time I drank it, I felt better. By the third evening, my appetite had returned to normal and I was able to walk around again.
He sat in the chair in the corner of my room, watching me stretch my legs.
“Rose,” he said, breaking the silence after Frieda had left us. “I apologize if I hurt you the other night.”
My hands reached instinctively for my shoulders as I recalled the incident. He had not so much hurt me as shaken me.
I nodded.
“All right.”
He stood up and headed toward the door. Before opening it, he turned around to me.
“You need to understand that there are things that I cannot and will not talk about with you. There are many things about me, the witch, and this place that you cannot know. So you need to stop pressing me for answers. But you have my word that I will do what I can to get you out of here as soon as the next opportunity presents itself. I want you out from under my skin just as much as you want out of here. I can’t tell you when or how it will happen, but you have my word: I will be waiting and watching for that time.”
With that, he left and shut the door behind him.