Halwen bent nearer to the cot. His expression gentled further, though shadows lingered in his gaze. He reached into his sleeve and drew out a small vial, pressing it carefully into her mother’s hands.
“One drop beneath her tongue,” he instructed, “three times a day. No more.”
Her mother’s voice broke as she whispered thanks. Tears streaked down her face, her fingers clutched the vial as if it were salvation itself.
Thessa frowned, arms crossed tight across her chest.
Halwen straightened, tracing a sign of blessing in the air over them. “I must return to the castle. The ceremony preparations wait for no one. But all are welcome at the gathering near the willow at sundown.”
Her mother nodded quickly, still pressing the vial to her chest.
Thessa only dipped her chin, lips pressed thin.
Halwen gave a final nod and stepped out, the door closing softly behind him.
Her mother went straight to Sera’s side, uncorking the vial with hands that trembled more from hope than fatigue. She tipped a single drop beneath the girl’s tongue.
“What is it?” Thessa asked.
“It’ll help,” her mother assured quickly, like the words themselves could force the truth into being.
Help. The word rang hollow. Thessa had tried too many remedies to believe in potions anymore. But what else was left to hope?
Her vision swam when she turned too fast, nearly dropping the wooden bowl from the table.
“You should lie down,” her mother remarked. “You worked all night.”
Thessa crouched instead, brushing Sera’s damp hair back from her face. Her fingers shook. The girl’s skin burned against her palm.Perhaps it’ll help, she told herself.Perhaps.
At the washbasin, her mother rinsed her face and straightened with effort. She put a fresh brown robe on her shoulders, and her hair had been braided down her back in the neat style she saved for holy days.
“You’re going out?” Thessa asked, startled.
Her mother nodded, patting her face dry with a threadbare cloth. “You heard Keeper Halwen—there’s a Rhyssa offering near the old willow. The women are gathering. It’s for the royal union.”
Thessa swallowed. “You’re attending?”
“Yes.” Her mother checked the fold of her sleeves. “We’re praying it goes well. A wedding like this—it could change things. A girl from our kingdom, marrying up like that. Maybe she’ll carry some piece of us with her. Maybe she’ll remember.”
Thessa only stared. She didn’t trust her voice.
Her mother turned, eyes softer now. “Please give Sera the drop again at midday, then once more before dawn. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
She reached to touch Thessa’s arm. Her fingers were colder than they should have been. She hesitated, gaze slipping toward Sera laying in her tangle of blankets.
“If anyone asks,” her mother said quietly, “say she’s shy. Say she always was.”
The word left her throat sharp and small. “Mom?”
Their eyes met. “It’s going to be alright. We have food. We have the potion…” Her mother’s voice trailed off. She swallowed the rest.
Thessa’s throat closed tight.
A kiss brushed her temple, and then—almost as if it were an afterthought, though it was anything but—her mother said quietly:
“The Assembly’s been sniffing around the lower district. Banished from the castle, yes. But still slithering through alleys. Yesterday they almost took Lena’s sister’s boy.”
Thessa flinched.
