She shook her head, chuckling at her son’s persistence. She shouldn’t be surprised by it, given his two parents. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until he had the real story. She held the door open. “I’ll tell you on the way to school.”
In the streets outside the Tower, she asked, “Do you remember what I told you about why I came to Solvantis? About what happened to my farm?”
He nodded solemnly. “It got burned up.”
“Right. The goblin horde came and took all our stores, and then they set it on fire.” Her voice shook slightly, remembering that terrible day. Waking to flames and screams and being unable to do anything about it. She took a deep breath and pushed past it. “When Papa was fighting the goblins in the war, he realized that the hordes attacking the villages and farms were mostly made up of younglings.”
Loïc’s jaw dropped. “Like me?!” he burst out, drawing second glances from human passersby. Idabel put her arm around him, guiding him through the busy streets toward his school.
“A little older than you, but yes. Children still. They were attacking the settlements because they were hungry. So Papa sent someone to tell the high-tier watch commanders about it.”
“That’s good!” he piped up. “If the goblins were hungry, they could just feed them, and then they’d go home.”
“Maybe so. But the gargoyle Papa sent didn’t deliver the message. He didn’t tell anyone. And instead he became really famous for being a good fighter against the hordes.”
“Oh no,” Loïc whispered, lip quivering. “He was fighting the younglings, wasn’t he? Is that the bad guy who Papa sent away?”
“Yes, sweetheart.” She pulled him close as they reached the school’s door, breathing in his familiar scent. “But you don’t have to worry about him. He’s gone.”
After she kissed Loïc goodbye, her feet automatically started walking toward the apothecary, a route that must be worn into the cobbles by this point. Her promise to Brandt that she would rest niggled at the back of her mind, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and fill a few orders, or at the very least pick up some orders to deliver on her way back to the Tower.
And if there were no orders to fill, Idabel could get a head start on brewing up the next batch of healing tonic for Brandt and Rikard. She might not find time to rest today, but perhaps she would this evening or tomorrow.
As she pushed open the apothecary door, she yawned so wide, it felt like her jaw might crack. She looked up, grinning, expecting Betje to make a joke about Brandt keeping her up all night. But instead of Betje by the counter, it was an unfamiliar young woman in a plain, blue dress.
Plump, with a wild cascade of curls barely contained by a well-placed ribbon, she greeted Idabel with a broad smile. “Morning, miss. Are you looking for something?”
A confused customer, Idabel decided. “Give me one minute, and I’ll be right with you.”
She headed for the work room, weaving through the shelves of soaps and hair powders. Perplexingly, the friendly young woman stepped in front of her, blocking her path, but thankfully Betje appeared at that moment, tying on her apron.
“Oh, I see you’ve met Frida. Frida, this is Idabel, my former apprentice and now one of the best apothecaries in Solvantis, if I do say so myself.”
Frida’s pretty gray eyes went wide, and she dipped into a curtsy. “Pardon me, miss. I thought you were a customer.”
Idabel grinned. “Don’t worry, I thought you were, too.”
“Frida is my new apprentice,” Betje explained. “The guild sent her over this morning. I think she’ll be a great help to us.”
“Welcome.” Idabel nodded and smiled, but inside, confusion swarmed. Was Betje unhappy with her work? She had been working slightly fewer hours in the evening since Brandt came back, but surely not so many that they needed another employee.
She kept the smile on her face all the way into the work room, where she immediately dropped it and checked the list Betje kept pinned to the wall. There were plenty of orders to take her mind off her worries. She ran down it, collecting the ingredients for each remedy as she went.
A digestive tonic for the baker down the block.Peppermint, ginger, fennel seed, and marshmallow root.
Why was this new apprentice bothering her so much? This was Betje’s shop, after all. Idabel was just an employee. It was only a fanciful notion that she might take over the shop someday when Betje retired, not a real plan. They had no agreement.
A teething solution for a nobleman’s nanny.Chamomile tincture and the smallest amounts of clove and violet oils.
Betje might have a dozen apprentices before she retired. More! She had every right to teach as many people as she wished how to prepare all the medicines and toiletries she sold. Idabel wasn’t special in that regard, so she shouldn’t have feelings one way or another about it.
A salve to cure warts. Garlic oil and marigold extract in a base of beeswax and tallow.
Shewantedto be special to Betje, she admitted to herself. Betje had been the first person to hug her after she arrived in Solvantis, something she’d been starving for. Betje had believed in her and done the kinds of things Idabel imagined a mother would do. She helped with Loïc’s birth and held her hand when Idabel severed the mate bond and comforted her while she cried through both. Betje was part of her family, and she was so, so scared to lose her.
She blew out a shuddery breath. She had to get herself together. Shaking off her sadness, she pulled the ingredients from the stores and set to work, measuring and stirring and bottling and labeling, careful to add dosage instructions on each.
“You’re upset,” Betje observed from the doorway, her arms crossed.
