“Three cups. I’ll get a stomachache before I get inspiration at the rate I’m going.” He sighed, dropped the bite back into the cup, and stared moodily at the pavement.
I did feel bad for him. I was the reason why he was pushing himself before he was truly ready to think of the answer. I wished I could back off, give him the space necessary to have natural inspiration, but I had a gut feeling we just didn’t have time.
“All right, walk me through it. Maybe talking out loud will help.”
“You, uh, have an understanding of medicine?”
“Barely any at all.” I sat and snitched one of the cinnamon sticks. “But that’s not the point. I think you need to slow it all down and get a different perspective. Telling me might help.”
Seeming to agree, Royce started talking. I barely kept up with any part of the explanation and didn’t think Edwin fared much better. He sat near my feet, a step down, and did some paperwork out of his ever-present portfolio.
Royce went on for a while, a good twenty minutes, then wound down with, “But it doesn’t matter how effective each thing is. I can’t seem to get them to combine well enough to beapplied. They’re mixing like oil and water, which isn’t helpful when combining them into a medicinal form. Plus, whatever I do to combine them seems to impact the effectiveness of each herb, which is counterproductive.”
Now this I sort of understood. I also had a suggestion, based upon what I remembered the cure being. I was trying to drip feed him information so it didn’t sound like I had the answers, because of course he didn’t know I had answers. This seemed like the right time to feed him another piece of the puzzle. “Then have you tried combining them with some kind of carrier oil? I mentioned thieves’ oil to you before, remember?”
“Oh, yes, you did. That’s why I’m so frustrated, you see, as olum oil is your standard carrier oil, but it’s not working.”
“What about a different carrier oil?”
It was particularly funny when a very intelligent person sported a blank expression. Thoughts? Woo-hoo?
“A different carrier oil?”
Here was where my real hint came in. “For instance, the Afrils use Echult oil for their medicines. It’s literally in every medicine, used to bind the crushed herbs together. It’s not magical at all,and the cold-pressed version mixes with basically anything. I personally love the stuff. It’s part of my household line, as it also makes a great massage oil.”
“Echult,” he murmured. You could see a light flickering to life in the widening of his eyes. “It’s known to be both antibacterial in property and yet with a neutral pH—gods.”
Without warning, Royce shoved the snack into my hands and then raced back inside.
Edwin and I watched him go and I cackled a bit. Well, hopefully my little nudge worked.
“You know what the cure is, don’t you?” Edwin asked.
“Eh, yes and no. He explained it to me in our past life, but I didn’t understand the explanation then or now. BUT! I remember Echult being involved because at the time I had the largest supply in the country, and Royce demanded all of it. He didn’t list Echult just then.”
“No, he didn’t.” Shaking his head, Edwin rose and offered me a hand up. “We’d be utterly ruined if not for your curiosity. It’s because you ask questions of everyone that you know more than you should.”
“Sadly, my memory isn’t as good as yours. You’d remember everything if he told it to you.”
“I highly doubt it. Besides, your memory is fine. You just keep overstuffing it with useless information, so it leaks sometimes.”
I laughed.
We had other things to follow up on today, so we went back to it. With our inspection done, our next task involved a visit to the tailor. The Founder’s Ball was coming up very soon, and I insisted on Edwin being my partner. He didn’t have a suit fancy enough for the ball, ergo we were now shopping.
We rode along the streets on this fine day with nary a cloud in the sky. My mood was excellent, as I had everything I wantedright now. A date with Edwin, no emergencies on the horizon, and no tasks hanging above my head. Truly, a perfect day.
“You’re serious about me being your partner for the ball,” he said, flummoxed.
I leaned over to smack a kiss against his lips. “I will not date anyone else. Or even take them as a partner to an event.”
He pursed his lips in thought, eyes studying me carefully. “Put like that, it seems obvious. You’re really not the type of man to play fast and loose with people’s hearts.”
“Damn straight.”
“So you’re prepared for the fallout? Because your adoptive parents willnotbe pleased to see me with you.”
I waved this off. “I know they won’t be. But it’s not their call. Also, this should send a very clear message to every other hopeful young lady and their mamas.”
