Chapter 118: Cleaning Up
Had I been poisoned?
The thought instantly flickered through my mind as I grabbed my abdomen. A piercing pain shot through me as my knees collided with the floor, accidentally flipping the plates onto the food with me. Some of the dinnerware shattered, spilling food everywhere.
My vision started to blur as my head pulsed. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, and it was starting to become insanely difficult to breathe. I felt like retching. In another time, I would have done my utmost best to squash down my nausea, but now that circumstances were so dire, I immediately succumbed to the urge.
If the food was poisoned, I needed to get it out of my body as soon as possible, no matter how disgraceful.
I slapped my hand over my lips, trying to hold it in just long enough to make it to the en-suite bathroom. However, my body was rejecting the food so quickly, be it due to physical or psychological reasons, that I felt it rise up my gullet and into my mouth.
I barely made it to the toilet bowl before I retched up everything I had eaten out.
Soon, everything I ate ended up in a pungent puddle. It smelled foul, and the stench easily overpowered the fragrant aromas of the food on the other platters. I couldn’t even bear to look at them, feeling my stomach churn with nausea.
Once I was done, I collapsed onto the floor, feeling even more exhausted than before. It felt as though all energy had been sapped out of my limbs, and my head rang with discomfort.
It took me a long time just to muster enough strength to stand back up and flush. I hunched over the basin, rinsing my face and mouth a few times until I could no longer taste it on my tongue.
Then, I turned. There was a small trail left on the floor that I hadn’t managed to hold in. Unfortunately, it had spilled. If I let it marinate on the floor, the smell will eventually overpower the room.
Grabbing one of the many bath towels present, I wet the cloth before wiping the tiles clean. Some of the leftover food and sauces had also spilled onto the carpets outside. Using the towels, I did my best to pick up the spilled pieces and wipe the carpet down. I couldn’t get everything out, but at least it was enough not to leave an obvious stain or smell lingering.
Once I was sure there were no stains left, I returned to the bathroom.
Thankfully, this ridiculously ornate room came with its own bathtub. I quickly rinsed it down and scrubbed it clean, using the shower gel that was helpfully provided in the room. My mind whirled as my hands mindlessly worked themselves, old habits kicking in.
Who could have wanted to poison me?
Violet. She was the first person on my suspect list, since she had the strongest motive. Maybe she found out about my new living quarters and decided to hurt me for petty revenge. I wouldn’t put it past her to poison me to get me out of her way.
Also, if she were truly responsible for Willow’s condition, I would be right on her hit list for ruining her wicked plan.
I hung up the towels and then washed my face again to get rid of the layer of sweat. I was feeling a lot better than before, and I thought over matters more carefully.
Violet wasn’t the only one who wanted to hurt me. In fact, other than the taste of bile in my mouth before washing, and the faint scratchiness at the back of my throat, I didn’t feel any lasting damage, which was highly unlike Violet’s modus operandi.
I was her most hated person― if she wanted to poison me, I would have been puking blood, if not dead.
So... who else?
The faces of the triplets also floated in my mind.
Rowan and Soren were the ones who insisted on getting me food. Was this a new form of punishment since they stopped using physical violence against me? I had constantly aggravated them for some reason or another, and most recently, I snuck out again against Rowan and Soren’s orders to stay put.
Or maybe this was a plot to weaken me so that I wouldn’t be able to escape. The silver bars weren’t installed yet.
Or perhaps they were upset that Willow was still not awake, that I had saved her while they twiddled their thumbs uselessly and wasted their time?
I scowled.
It was horribly petty of them, yet when I thought about how they treated me in the past, I could easily believe it. They weren’t going to suddenly care and respect me just because I brought Willow back to them. In their eyes, I was probably righting a wrong I committed, and I didn’t deserve praise for that.
Turning around, I stared at the mess in the room. I had picked up the plates and as much of the food as possible. At first glance, no one would suspect that I had created such a mess in the first place.
As I wondered if I should just let them think that they had succeeded in poisoning me, the door burst open.
Rowan walked in, frowning. He rapidly glanced around the room, seemingly panicking a little more with every passing second he didn’t notice me, until he finally noticed me standing in the middle of the bathroom. His shoulders visibly slackened, and he made his way over.
Instinctively, I took a step back and pursed my lips. My back pressed against the edge of the basin.
Rowan’s eyes fell to my feet, clearly noticing the small step I took backwards. His eyebrows knitted together for a split second, but quickly relaxed as he wore his usual nonchalance on his face once again.
"You’re alright," he said. "I thought you..." He trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished.
"You thought I died?" I finished for him, unable to help but let a little bit of bitterness leak into my tone.
Seeing the way he came so quickly, my suspicion of him or Soren being the one to poison my food just seemed to be more and more possible.
Rowan blinked in confusion, raising an eyebrow. "No?" he said, sounding unsure. "I thought I felt―" Once again, he cut himself short before shaking his head. "Never mind. I just wanted to check in on you."
"Unfortunately for you, I’m perfectly fine," I said, deciding there was no reason to hide it.
Rowan’s eyes seemed fixated on my lips. He came forward, completely closing the distance between us. Before I could dodge, he had reached up and cupped my face. His thumb ran over my lower lip, dragging the skin just a little due to the pressure he put on the pad of his finger.
"I didn’t hallucinate it," he muttered under his breath.
"Hallucinate what?" I asked, the words tumbling out of my mouth in confusion before I could stop them.
"You weren’t well," Rowan said plainly. This time, it wasn’t a question but a firm statement. "What happened?"
I pursed my lips, refusing to answer. How did he know?
When Rowan turned around to scan the room, I took in a deeper, longer breath.
Since there was still some food in the room, the smell of food was strong enough to counter the smell of bile. I had also washed everything as thoroughly as I could; most of the damage was contained in the bathroom anyway. After washing the towels, the place mostly smelled like shower gel more than anything else.
So it couldn’t have been the lingering scents that clued him in.
Then it struck me. Why was he asking what happened? Unless... Rowan truly was innocent, and he wasn’t the one who poisoned me.
I started to doubt myself, but quickly threw that thought out of the window. Rowan may have marked me, but it didn’t erase the way he treated me in the last few years. He and his brothers have attempted to torture me more than once. As long as I wasn’t dead, Rowan wouldn’t feel the consequences.
"Do you really not know, or are you just acting?" I snapped, my patience running thin. "I don’t have the time or patience to roleplay with you. If you want to poison me, just get it done and over with. Or better yet, find some other ways to torture me."
"Poison you?" Rowan echoed. "What for?"
"I heard the noise," Cassian suddenly said, popping in. "Did she escape again?"
He appeared by the doorway, and when our eyes met, he frowned, his expression darkening.
"Unfortunately not," I grumbled under my breath. How wonderful it must be to have werewolf healing. He was already up and running in less than two hours. Maybe I should’ve kicked harder.
"If you two are here to check if I’ve died or escaped yet, the answer is no," I said. I wrapped my fingers around Rowan’s wrist, leading him outside and towards the door. "In this case, now that you’ve gotten the answers you’re looking for, please leave me alone."
Rowan, who had been dutifully following me to the door, suddenly stopped short. His eyes remained on the half-empty plates, noticing the shards of shattered china I had stacked on the remaining food.
I turned to look, wincing as I mentally berated myself for leaving them out in the open.
As I let go of Rowan’s wrist, he clasped down on mine instead, firmly though not painfully.
"Be honest," Rowan said, his expression darkening. "You didn’t eat the food, did you?"
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