“Dare I ask?”
Hellebore just brushed past him. The water in it weighed a substantial amount, and she had no desire to stand around with it. “You'll see.”
Then he took it from her, rolling his eyes and setting off without a word.
She didn’t know what to make of it. Or him. It was a little late to play the gentleman.
But Hellebore also wasn’t particularly desperate to lug it around, so she stayed quiet.
When they arrived, she had him set the bucket beside the door before they went into the garden again.
This time, instead of hovering by the entrance, he followed her through the garden, watching her more closely as she took both the worst rotted irises and some of the medium rotted.
As she carefully snipped petals, leaves, and stems for her study, she looked up at him out of the corner of her eye and said, “Your reports from your past experts don't say anything about the origin, nothing about the enemy you mentioned. I know you said it started here, but someone brought it in here from somewhere else. Having the country of origin of the rot would go a long way in helping me. The solution could be tied to the source.”
Taiyo scowled. “I... I don’t know where they brought it in from. An enemy I should have known better than to trust got in here and introduced the disease in order to weaken us.”
Hellebore clicked her tongue as she corked a vial. “Well, as a strategy, I unfortunately have to give the Moon Elves credit. They were playing a long gambit, and if not for me, it would succeed. I'll look into what they could have brought with them to cause this.”
Now that she'd had a fair number of hours examining the rotting irises, there was something about it that was familiar. Unfortunately, that by itself didn't mean much. Decay was her area of study. If she couldn't figure outwhyit was familiar, then that sense was of no use.
“Can you do it in six months?”
Hellebore looked around at the garden, then up at the sun. Her breathing came out distorted and heavy through her mask. “There's no other option.”
When they were finished, both covered in the filth, Taiyo shut the door to the garden behind them. “What was the bucket for? You didn't use it.”
Hellebore pulled a piece of chalk out of her belt and started writing on the wall. Taiyo let out a shocked gasp, and he started to lunge for her.
In hindsight, maybe she should have just told him.
Because as she pushed her power into the transmutation, she slammed into the wall while the disinfecting mist scoured over them.
The mist faded and she could feel Taiyo pressed against her, the chalk having clattered to the ground as his hands pinned hers against the stone. She stared up at him, and his fury shifted into confusion as he stared down at her.
She let out a slight chuckle, highly aware that she was at his mercy. “Paranoid much? Or are you just always looking for excuses to get your hands on me?”
Taiyo, however, only narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
“I disinfected our clothes so we don't track toxin and rot back through your castle.” Hellebore tried to nudge his leg, but really only succeeded in bringing them closer. She hoped the heat she was feeling flooding her cheeks wasn’t visible. She should have left her mask up. “You’re welcome.”
He stared down at her, his breathing still heavy, not pulling back. This was as close as they'd been since their wedding night.
“Considering my whole purpose here is for alchemy, I assumed you already knew not every use of it is an attack.”
“Right,” he whispered, but he didn't let go or move back. Did he feel this was necessary? Was he really so afraid of what she could do that he needed this to feel safe?
“I did use it to save your life with the sedative, remember?”
Taiyo's eyes drifted down from her eyes.
She took a short breath. “If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead.”
He started to shift even closer, and she didn't even know how that was possible, but then he pulled back slightly, finally loosening his grip on her hands, pinned against the stone.
At least he wasn’t completely flush against her anymore, but he was still far closer than he should be if he was so rightly repulsed by her. He whispered, “Why did you agree to help me? Why not kill me and let my country rot?”
“I have a fascination with decay.” Hellebore didn't pull her hands out of his grip. If this was what he needed in order to trust her, she’d let him have it. “And you read my father’s letter. I don’t have much of a choice. I like living. Being alive is an important element in being an alchemist. Skilled as we are, we haven’t conquered death yet.”
