Tyrith studied his goodbrother silently for a long moment. Pollen? A strange flower that must have been. "I believe you are more right than you know..." he paused and turned from William to glance out the window, his expression pensive. "When Toria came to me, she already had the name of a man said to have some knowledge of poisons and illness. She tracked him down in the city and sought his opinion." He sighed ruefully and looked again at William with an apologetic wince.
"It was not her place, but she is fond of her cousins and thought only to reaffirm the Maesters' diagnosis... it was not so simple, apparently. Her... contact... named a different cause. I would have laughed him off as a charlatan but--" Tyrith frowned, "his diagnosis makes more sense than a flower and Toria's not one to trust lightly. Only why would the Citadel not notice something so quickly detected by one of their own lost pupils?"