Between the Pages

Chapter 8

Martha, a servant maid in the palace, was trembling as she held the tray of tea cups. The king had requested his afternoon tea, and it was her duty to deliver it. Martha had been working in the palace for years, but the thought of serving the king still made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and entered the king's chambers. The room was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn closed. The king was sitting on his throne, looking stern and serious.

Martha approached the throne and bowed low. "Your Majesty, your tea."

The king nodded and reached for a cup. Martha's hands were shaking as she poured the tea. She tried to keep her focus, but her nerves got the best of her.

Once the cups were filled, she stepped back and waited for the king's verdict.

The king took a sip of tea and immediately grimaced. "What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed. "This tea is bitter and foul!"

Martha's eyes widened in shock. She had followed the recipe perfectly. What could have gone wrong?

"I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Martha stammered. "I'll make a fresh batch right away."

The king glared at her. "See that you do. And make sure it's done right this time."

Martha bowed low and hurried out of the room, feeling like a failure. She didn't know what went wrong with the tea, but she knew she had to fix it fast. As she made her way back to the kitchen, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Something about the tea didn't feel right, and she couldn't put her finger on it.

When Martha was on her way to deliver the newly-made tea, she heard loud voices and commotion coming from inside the chamber of the king. Her heart began to race as she wondered what could be happening. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the chamber in time to see what was going on. As she approached the door, she could hear the guards inside panicking and shouting in alarm.

"Quickly, find a doctor! The king may have been poisoned!" one of the guards shouted.

Another guard responded, "But who could have done this? Who could have poisoned the king?"

Martha's heart sank as she heard the guards' frantic voices. She felt a wave of panic wash over her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing - had she really just served the king a cup of poisoned tea? The thought made her stomach churn with dread.

As Martha tried to slip away unnoticed, one of the guards noticed her and called out, "Hey, you there! Hold on a minute."

Martha froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. She slowly turned around to face the guard, who was eyeing her suspiciously.

"Did you see anything strange or suspicious around here?" the guard asked, his tone sharp.

Martha's heart raced as she stood before the guard, his piercing gaze fixed on her. She could feel the sweat trickling down her spine, despite the coolness of the stone corridor.

"N-no, sir," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She racked her brain for a plausible explanation, but her thoughts were in disarray. "I was just delivering tea to the king."

The guard's eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "You are the one who delivered the tea for the king earlier?" he demanded.

Martha hesitated, but eventually nodded. "Yes, sir. But I didn't try to poison Your Majesty! I was just asked to deliver the tea to the king."

The guard studied Martha intently, his expression unreadable. "Well, something is definitely amiss here. We need to find a doctor immediately," he said, turning to his fellow guard. "And you," he said, pointing a finger at Martha, "you stay put. We might need to ask you some more questions."

Martha's heart sank as she watched the guards hurry off. She knew she was in trouble, even though she had done nothing wrong. She could only hope that the truth would come out soon, before it was too late.

The tea that she had served to the king wasn't made by her. It was given to her by one of the guards, who was very unfamiliar with her. She just accepted it because it wasn't suspicious in the first place.

Her heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her entire life flashed before her eyes as she pondered the consequences of the King's poisoning. She couldn't help but think that this was all a set-up, a ploy to get her in trouble. With her hands trembling and her thoughts racing, she knew that her life was in grave danger, and she had no idea how to get out of it.

THE CROWN PRINCE was immersed in the warm water, enjoying the calmness and serenity of the moment when he was abruptly interrupted by the incessant banging on his bathroom door. He sighed, knowing that it could only be an urgent matter that required his immediate attention. Hastily, he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door to be greeted by a servant who appeared pale and shaken.

"What is the meaning of this interruption? Why are you knocking like that?" the crown prince demanded in a cold voice, his icy gaze fixed on the servant. Despite his apparent irritation, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern at the servant's distress.

The servant took a deep breath and replied, "Your highness, I have just received word that the king may have been poisoned."

The crown prince's heart skipped a beat. "What? Are you sure? Who brought this news?"

"I am afraid so, your highness. The guards are in a state of panic and have been searching for a doctor. I came to inform you immediately as I know you should be aware of this as soon as possible," the servant said, his voice trembling.

The crown prince's mind was racing. His father, the king, was in grave danger and he had to act quickly.

"Get all the palace doctors here immediately," he commanded. "We must tend to my father at once."

The servant nodded and hurried away to do the prince's bidding. The crown prince closed the door to his bathroom and leaned against it, feeling overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. The thought of losing his father was too much to bear. He knew that he had to be strong for his family and his people, but inside, he was falling apart.

The crown prince hurried to the king's chambers, his heart racing with fear and anticipation. When he arrived, he was met with a chaotic scene. The guards were in a state of panic, and the doctors were rushing around, trying to save the king's life.

"Your Highness, thank goodness you're here," one of the doctors said, as he rushed past the crown prince. "We need all the help we can get."

The crown prince nodded, feeling a sense of urgency wash over him. He stepped forward to see his father, who was lying on the bed, his face pale and his breathing shallow.

"How is he?" inquired the crown prince with a composed demeanor, determined to conceal any trace of emotion in the presence of others.

The lead doctor turned to him, his face grim. "It's not looking good, Your Highness. The poison seems to be spreading quickly. We're doing everything we can, but we need to act fast."

The crown prince nodded again, his expression icy and controlled. "Do whatever it takes to save him," he commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion. "And find out who did this. I want them brought to justice."

With that, he stepped back and observed the doctors as they worked to save his father's life, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to uncover the culprit behind the poisoning.

IN A HIDDEN CORNER of the palace, the guard responsible for poisoning the king's tea took a sip of his own tea, savoring the taste as he watched the chaos unfold from a distance. He had spent weeks planning this moment, carefully selecting the right poison and ensuring that it would not be traced back to him.

The guard took another sip of tea and smiled to himself. He had always despised the king and his reign, and now he had the perfect opportunity to get rid of him once and for all. As he watched the chaos unfolding in the palace, he knew that his careful planning was about to pay off.

As he watched Martha being interrogated by the other guards, a smug smile spread across his face. Everything was going according to plan.

"All my careful planning is finally coming to fruition." he whispered to himself.

He took another sip of tea, feeling a sense of satisfaction washing over him.