Bread and Games: Chapter 6
Ave, relentless and patient reader! How about we pick up the thread of this story again? Last time we heard from them, Regina and Robin had just begun to acknowledge the sting of Cupid's arrow when an ominous letter called for Regina's urgent return to Rome...
Happy reading, and gratitude for your continued support!
Regina has well and truly walked into a trap. No, not walked—raced headlong into it, for the horses, spurred by Regina's order to nigh flight along the Via Appia, will need nothing short of a miracle to recover.
So, according to the puzzled line of medici coming and going in her parents' house, will Regina's father.
That at least was not a lie, but the realness of his condition is everything but consolation to Regina. The mysterious ailment has yet to be diagnosed in the first place, and a cure is nowhere in sight. Regina can't bear to watch another wise man scratch their learned head for varying lengths of time only to eventually shuffle out of the dim room with a helpless shrug; or another charlatan gambling with her father's health and causing more harm than good. Dismissing the slave girl (they come and go under Cora's iron fist so fast Regina can't keep track of them) mother had stationed by Daddy's sickbed the very afternoon of her arrival, Regina settles into the bedroom to nurse him herself.
Cora appears shortly after, her daughter's disobedience apparently as powerful a magnet as ever.
"Regina, dear, how nice of you to stop by," she says by way of greeting. How typical of her to make even words of welcome a thinly veiled reprimand. "You could have sent word, you know. Or come to greet your mother before you disrupt your father's treatment."
"Treatment that doesn't seem to be working. And you didn't even bother sending word of his illness!"
Regina clenches her fists in an attempt to rein in the rising temper that burst forth so readily. Cora doesn't respond well to such outbursts, even if it's righteous anger, and Regina simply knows that all her indignation will earn her is a withering look and a lecture. She doesn't think she could stand either right now.
Cora gives her an appraising once-over that lingers on Regina's white knuckles before she has presence of mind enough to hide them in her stola, and Regina bites her lip—another mistake—at the realisation that her distress is plain as day to her mother. A knowing smile plays on Cora's lips, acknowledgement of Regina's effort to contain her passions, and Regina hates every moment of this already.
Mother never does shy away from adding fuel to the fire, however, and she hurls another caustic remark Regina's way.
"How would I have known where to reach you when you're neither at one of your husband's many residences nor mine?"
"You know perfectly well I've been staying with Zelena."
"I won't have that name spoken in this house," Cora grits coldly, her eyes hard and flashing dangerously. "I don't know why you insist on associating with her in the fir—"
"She's my sister, Mother," Regina returns on a sigh. They've been over this a hundred times before, and it's of no importance at the moment. All that matters, all that she should be focusing on right now, is Daddy's well-being. "How did this happen?"
"If you'd known your place, Regina, you wouldn't have to ask because you'd have been here. Perhaps then your father wouldn't have gotten himself sick gorging on mediocre wine."
Daddy never drinks wine he himself hasn't produced and mixed. Regina knows that. Cora knows it, too. The sinister smile and dangerous glint in her eye say so, and Regina shudders.
This was a trap just as suspected, only much worse.
Regina knows then that no medicus will ever be able to cure her father, and by the time she figures out a way, he might well be beyond helping.
So Regina turns to an old friend instead.
Continue on A3O / ff.net
