Infirmary, (Warwick Royal Palace) 19.00 pm
It was exactly one hour after the end of the exhilarating hunt. The darkness was beginning to penetrate through the glass of the windows. The prince began to regain all senses and his head began to ache incredibly. He couldn't open his eyes, he was lying on a bed: that was all he knew. He gritted his teeth to stifle the pain and tried to get up on his back, but as soon as he tried to do this his arms started to burst in pain.
He slowly opened his eyes, everything he saw was blurry and not very precise and around him everything seemed to spin at a completely absurd speed. He noticed something solid wrapping his head, touched it with two of his fingers, and in a short time he realised white gauze neatly wrapped around his golden hair.
As soon as his sight became clear again and his head stopped spinning, the young figure of his younger half-sister became clear to him. She was sitting on a wooden stool next to the man's bed and she seemed to be staring at him, while her very long golden hair descended to her lap. When the eyes of the two met, Isabelle seemed incredibly pleased that her brother had regained his senses and was able to speak.
- Finally you wake up, brother dear... - the princess commented smiling - it is exactly an hour and I was almost losing hope that you would wake up ... -. Henry was very confused, he could not remember anything other than having fallen from his horse in excruciating abdominal pain and passing out, but his memory of that episode was vague. He was pretty sure he had been poisoned, and in case his guess was true he was more than sure the culprit was his sweet younger half-sister. Isabelle got up from her stool and walked to the marble window sill, picking up a deep plate of white porcelain.
-This is a soup, I had it cooked for you ... - the young woman sat on the stool taking a silver spoon and dipping it into the liquid, taking a certain amount.
-I am not hungry- commented the prince looking at the darkness enveloping the scene through the glass of the window - rather tell me what happened ... -.
-You must eat Henry dear, you have to regain strength ... -the young lady grabbed the spoon and held it to her brother's thin lips, pressing it against them -be careful, it's still hot-.
The prince shook his head and pushed his hand towards his sister's body, nodding with a serious look. - I want to know exactly what happened ... -. Isabelle abandoned her sweet ways, taking a twist of anger and nervousness in her face.
-Well so- she threw the spoon back violently into the soup -if you are not hungry you will not eat at all ... -. A strange silence was created inside the room. -You have been poisoned by me, brother dear ... -.
Henry was more than sure. He had foreseen it, with some sort of sixth sense. -Why did you do it? - the prince resumed a serious tone looking at his sister in the eyes -you knew that I would risk dying, didn't you? Why did you do it? You cruel witch-.
Isabelle smiled nervously and with a nod of hysteria she hinted at all her wickedness in a single sentence -I did it because I hate you ... -. Henry was not surprised, he had heard such a phrase many times in his life, starting with his own father, who used, to say even worse things to his son. In any case, that sentence continued to hurt him, every time he listened to it, he continued not to be used to such offences.
-I don't care what you decide to do in the future or even if you die, that's not what interests me ...- Isabelle continued to insult him with words of hate. The princess grabbed the hot soup, prepared for her brother and threw it violently on the prince's underwear and so indirectly on his genitals. From so much pain, Henry bent over himself and began to scream and complain of his pain.
-All I was trying to do was be nice to you, for once, because this is what everyone is expecting ,e to do ... - the princess began to look away with tears in her eyes.
-Go back to France, if that's what you want, since you hate England, your own homeland so much! -. Isabelle left the room and together with it she left her aura of darkness, which on such an occasion does not he had trouble getting noticed. She left the prince, his brother, wounded and burned, but his wounds were of a kind that cannot be healed. His interior wounds had been lying there, in his heart, for a long time now, and it had been a long time, that he he felt broken, that he could feel no more emotions.