Book 3: Chapter 58: A Thread of Treachery
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A cold numbness seemed to well up at the back of Carina’s throat before it spread down her neck and limbs. The Duchess stared blankly at the Viscountess’s limp figure for a split second. Then she staggered forward a step, the movement unlocking her stiff legs enough to move toward Hana’s body. The Viscountess was in her dressing gown, her blonde hair spilled freely across the gravel path, her turquoise blue eyes open and unblinking as she stared off toward a honeysuckle bush with an empty expression of surprise.
A frigid stab of pain pierced through Carina’s chest as she registered the blood pooling slowly beneath Hana’s head, staining her golden locks. The Duchess pressed her shaking fingers against Hana’s throat, hoping, praying for a sign, but she felt nothing and could hear nothing beyond her glowing frozen heart beating so loudly it sounded like a drum raging against her ears.
“Hana?”
The question came out in a feeble, pleading breath. Carina blinked slowly, drawing in the cold air that welled around her, shutting away everything except the fear and panic that coursed through her body like an electric current. She shook and rubbed her useless fingers before reaching for the Viscountess’s wrist.
It was then she saw the strip of black cloth clutched in Hana’s stiff white fingers. The Duchess ignored it, searching once more for a pulse, but her body was too cold, too numb and rigid as if she were the one slowly bleeding out and dying.
“Hana, please. Say something. Anything. Can you blink? I need you to show me you can hear me.”
Carina hated how far away her voice sounded, how small and frail like a child pleading for their parent to wake up. She kept forgetting to breathe as time around them slowed to an almost glacial pace. ‘What do I do? Should I call for help? Is there even a medical procedure or healing spell for such an injury in this stupid magical world?’