In Ink and Wine

Chapter 21 - Just Sick

Keridel might have written letters every day, but they didn't arrive every day. They arrived in bundles every few weeks, sometimes mixed in with a letter from Brylow. Clarille cherished every single one, reading them so many times she could nearly recite them to Klairia word for word. He described his trip up the coast so vividly Clarille could imagine being there herself, watching the coast drift by and feeling the wind off of the bay. She wrote back long letters, page after page, with every new detail about Klairia's life. A few lines at the end were dedicated to herself, or the villa, if she remembered.

Brylow's letters were encouraging. She had found lodging with a wealthy family in the upper portion of Zianna City. Jeksen was helping in the household to pay for their stay. She hadn't yet visited the castle, but was beginning to meet some of the nobles, ministers and advisors who frequented the castle. She was hopeful, cautiously expecting an invitation to a party in the palace in a few weeks time.

The most annoying thing about letters, as always, was the delay. Before Clarille even received Brylow's letter, the date of the party had come and gone. There was no reason to wish Brylow luck getting an invitation, as she had already attended. Or hadn't.

Keridel was further away, and so his letters were even more delayed. Clarille knew he had reached Triben, but she hadn't heard anything else, even though he had been in the port city for weeks.

When deciding to buy the villa in Lakeside, she hadn't considered the struggle of communication. She knew, of course, that mail travelled fastest over the water, and so being close to the Adymuss River meant receiving news in a more timely manner. She hadn't grown up next to the river, but her family's lands had been along a main road. Traders and travellers passed by every day, often bringing mail along with them. People didn't travel to Lakeside nearly as often.

But as it couldn't be helped, Clarille let herself be content with late letters.

And every time a bundle of letters did arrive, she flicked through them, hoping there might be one from her mother. But there never was.

***

Although Clarille would have preferred having Keridel home, it really wasn't so hard taking care of Klairia without him. Until one morning, when Clarille noticed that Klairia was acting strangely. She was quick to cry, and didn't seem interested in any of her usual toys or games. Clarille lifted her daughter into her arms, and noticed that her skin was flushed and felt warm. Panicked, she immediately brought Klairia to the kitchen.

"Salah, something's wrong," Clarille said, bursting through the door with Klairia cradled against her chest.

Salah put aside a large kitchen knife and wiped her hands off on her apron. "What is it? Oh." She gently lay her palm on Klairia's forehead. "Oh, she's just sick."

"Just sick?" Clarille repeated, as Klairia cried and clung to her dress.

"Just sick," Salah said. She gave Clarille a pat on the shoulder. "It happens, just like it does with us. She'll be fine in a day or two. It's important to make sure she rests, eats and drinks."

Some logical part of her understood what Salah was saying. Of course babies got sick and recovered, that was simply part of being alive. But despite that logic, Clarille's heart still raced with worry. She wanted to do everything in her power to protect her daughter, but she couldn't fight a sickness.

"That's it? Sleep and food?"

"It's the best you can do," Salah said.

Klairia was still crying. The sound tore at Clarille's chest. "Should I bring her to a physician?"