Warning: This chapter contains a conversation about suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

An hour later, I washed my hands and applied the treatment in the same way that Daniel had. Sebastian looked no better. If anything, he looked paler than before.

As I washed the elixir from my hands and started to dry them, there was another knock at the door. The second I opened it, Tristan flew past me to the bed, leaving Annabelle in the corridor.

"What happened?" he asked, clearly agitated as he removed his outdoor coat and flung it over the nearby chair.

"Poison, apparently," I replied sadly. "Come in, Annabelle," I said, turning to the abandoned girl who was clearly wondering whether she could enter the room. As a close friend of Sebastian's, I assumed she would probably like to see him.

"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed as she followed in a more dignified manner than her predecessor.

"An apothecary from Garrow has visited and provided an elixir that I hope will help him," I motioned to the jar on the dresser.

"Hope?" asked Tristan, touching Sebastian's forehead with a concerned expression on his face.

"Sebastian ingested enough that he may not recover," I said, attempting to remain calm and measured in my delivery, while falling to pieces inside. I noticed Annabelle wince at my words.

"How did this even happen?" Tristan asked, clearly shocked.

"I found him clutching the bottle," I replied, lifting the brown vessel from the dresser to show him. "There was another identical bottle in his jacket pocket."

"Why would he ...? That does not sound like Sebastian," said Tristan, shaking his head, and then his stomach growled hungrily.

"Have you not eaten?" I asked him.

"Not since lunchtime," he confessed. "I came here immediately when this young lady told me the news she carried."

"There is soup in the kitchen, left over from earlier today," said Annabelle. "It seems we may have good use for it."

Tristan nodded to her.

"If it would be no trouble," he said.

"I will fetch what I can," she replied, curtseying as she left.

"She is a sweet girl," Tristan nodded his head in the direction of the door as he faced me.

"She is," I replied, sitting on the bed with him and looking at Sebastian affectionately. "Sebastian considers her a good friend."

I reached out to touch Sebastian's cheek and it was then that Tristan seemed to realise I was more upset than I had been prepared to demonstrate in Annabelle's presence.

"You care about him a great deal," noted Tristan quietly. "He has been a good confidant I assume."

"Yes," I acknowledged, turning to Tristan. "And more."

"More?"

"I am in love with him, Tristan," I admitted, needing somebody I could confide in about this entire situation. Tristan already knew more than most, although we had never discussed it openly before.

"I see," Tristan responded compassionately. "Do you know whether he reciprocates your feelings?"

"He does," I told him. "Even after admitting it to me, for a long time he still resisted my advances."

"Your ... advances?" repeated Tristan, evidently shocked by my implication. "You have been intimate with the boy?"

I nodded slowly, turning back to Sebastian and stroking his hair.

"I have."

"Good heavens, Richard!" he exclaimed. "What were you thinking?"

"You were the one who recommended him to me."

"Not with the intention that you take him as your lover!" he hissed.

"Nor was that my intention either, I swear!" I turned back to look at Tristan and kept my voice low, but the frustration I had at his tone was evident. "Sebastian is everything I could have wanted, and you dropped him into my lap, Tristan! That kind of temptation has proved very difficult to resist."

"Temptation usually comes in through a door that has been left open," he replied, rolling his eyes. "It seems your brain has been residing in your trousers of late."

"Love drives me, not desire," I clarified. "Before I met Sebastian, I never knew what it was like to see someone and smile for no reason other than the fact that they were in your life. Any physical act comes from craving a deeper connection with him ... on a level that I cannot express in words, because I doubt the words exist."

Tristan's expression softened and he sighed. His voice turned sympathetic.

"Regardless, of what drives you, Richard, the law is not in favour of this affair," he emphasised.

"Because he is a man?" I scoffed. "If I had fallen in love with a young lady, there would be no issue. Who would give laws to lovers? Whoever created this law has clearly not experienced true love."

"You are a romantic, but I agree with you," he conceded. "The law is unfair. But it is what it is."

"It is ridiculous. That is what it is," I asserted angrily. "And if the reason Sebastian is now hurt is because of what he is – what we are – I intend to challenge it."

"How?" asked Tristan.

"It needs more thought than I am able to currently provide," I replied. "I cannot focus while Sebastian is so poorly."

"So, you think he tried to take his own life because of his preferences?" Tristan asked.

"The thought had occurred to me," I replied. "But whatever it was he was doing I do not believe he was attempting suicide. He cared too much about his life. Every attempt to resist our relationship has been because he wanted to live. It makes no sense that he would deliberately end his life after trying so hard to preserve it."

A knock on the door prevented us taking the conversation further. I opened it to let Annabelle in, who brought Tristan some of the pea and ham soup I had enjoyed earlier, with a chunk of fresh bread. She set it on the dresser, and Tristan moved to the chair in order to eat, thanking her on the way. Annabelle sat next to Sebastian on the bed, put his hand in hers, and I remained standing. I addressed Tristan again, but was careful not to refer too much to our most recent conversation.

"My priority is to ensure Sebastian's recovery," I said. "Once I am satisfied that he will survive, I intend to investigate what happened. I hope he may be able to tell us at least some of it."

"Please forgive me for interrupting your conversation," Annabelle turned to face us. "I have information about Sebastian that may be useful to know in an investigation such as this. He asked me not to reveal it to anyone, but if his life may still be in danger, I feel I must."

I was intrigued.

"Please," I replied gently. "Any information you have will be useful. We need to try to establish a full picture of what has happened here, and why. What can you tell us?"

"Not as much as I would like to," she started. "It is my belief that Sebastian was involved in a secret affair."

I raised an eyebrow involuntarily. I wondered exactly how much Annabelle knew about Sebastian's personal business. I caught Tristan looking towards me and then back to Annabelle again as he took a spoonful of soup, but he said nothing.

"An affair?" I prompted her to continue.

She nodded.

"He was extremely guarded about it, so I do not have much to offer," she said sadly. "I asked him once whether his mistress was married, and he did not deny it. My fear is that her husband found out and decided to ensure the affair would not persist any longer."

"You believe this was an attempt on his life, driven by jealousy?" I asked.

"I do," she replied earnestly. "Terrible repercussions are often born of clandestine activities such as his. I tried to warn him that a secret relationship may come with undesirable consequences, but he maintained he was willing to shoulder the risk. Perhaps he was being threatened in some way."

Tristan and I both knew that although the affair she spoke of was real, there was no jealous husband involved. However, I could not let Annabelle know that without drawing suspicion.

"That is an interesting theory," I said. "It does sound like a potential motive for an attempt on his life," I then agreed, although who would be threatening him and the reason behind it was a mystery to me. "Thank you, Annabelle, I have found this conversation most illuminating."

"There is more," she added. "I think Sebastian's mistress may have tried to warn him that her husband had discovered their affair."

"What makes you say that?" I asked, interested in any clues her theories may provide.

"This evening, after we finished eating, I saw him talking to a young lady with auburn hair," Annabelle informed us. "They did not know I saw them together. Sebastian has gone to some effort to ensure he concealed the identity of his mistress, and so, since I did not recognise this maiden, I must assume it was her. Perhaps she came with a warning that their activities had been discovered. Why else would she be willing to be seen with him openly, unless it was urgent?"

Why else indeed.

I tried to make a point of talking regularly to each member of staff but could not recall anyone working at the castle that matched her description.

"Do you recall at what time you saw them together?" I asked. This maiden may have been the last person to be with Sebastian before he was poisoned.

"I believe it was around half past six?" she said.

"I found him just over an hour later," I mused. "I think this young lady may be, at the very least, a key witness to this tragic event. Would you recognise her if you saw her again Annabelle?"

"I would," she said. "She was pretty, and her hair was quite distinctive."

"If you see her again, will you alert me?" I asked. "I think we need to talk to her."

"Of course, Your Highness."

"Richard, please." I hated being addressed so formally.

"Richard," she repeated, clearly feeling a little awkward. She turned and focused her attention on Sebastian while I noted that the two visitors had been here for nearly an hour. Which meant it was almost time for me to administer more of the antidote.

I paced the room while I waited for the right time, and digested what Annabelle had said. She had imparted some very interesting information this evening. Her interpretation of it was clearly incorrect, but the facts were significant.

One thing above all else was abundantly clear; whatever happened to Sebastian seemed to be connected to the girl with the auburn hair, and I intended to find her.