“I will.” I remember Ma’s lecture and pause to ask, “Do you know of anyone sellingkeebaleaf? It’s for a tincture. I needboolaberries andkeebaleaf. There used to be a patch ofboolaberries along the path but when I looked just now, I couldn’t find it.”
Leelah blinks. “Who is this medicine for?”
I shrug. “It’s just something Ma likes to make.” It was my second day here when Ma handed me a cup of moss-green liquid and told me to swallow the bitter brew.“You must take this every day. For your safety and survival.”She drilled the steps of the recipe into me until I perfected the process of making it.
Leelah has a weird, intense expression on her face. “Those ingredients are rare. I have a littlekeebabut noboola. And I wouldn’t ask around. Folks don’t need to know you’re making an estrus blocker.”
“Estrus blocker?” I repeat.
“Hush,” she hisses. “Not so loud.” She shoots a glance at the knot of Alphas standing by the tavern. They’re all focused on the windmill which has mysteriously stopped spinning so fast, but she beckons me closer all the same. “Those herbs used to be coveted by Omegas.” The last word is barely audible, her voice is so low.
“I didn’t think there were many O—” I omit the wordOmegasat the last second, “of them left.”
“In my great-grandmother's generation, there were plenty. And everyone knew that Matron Dia, the healer who taught your Ma, was the one who provided the potion to suppress their heat cycles. To allow them to hide.”
I blink. “Why did they want to hide?”
“Because once they go into heat, any Alpha who scents them will go into rut. And once an Alpha is in rut, almost nothing can stop him from giving in to it.”
Ah. No wonder Ma is so cautious around Alphas.
“That potion you mentioned, those ingredients?” Leelah continues. “They’re illegal. Don’t let them—” she risks another glance towards the king’s guards, “—catch you asking around for them.”
“Understood. Thank you.” When I get home, Ma is going to have some explaining to do.
“Attention! Attention, everyone!” A pink-haired older Beta in a fancy blue and gold embroidered robe is standing on a stage in the center of the square, surrounded by soldiers. He holds up a large scroll that looks like a bigger version of the tiny one Ma read from this morning.
“An announcement!” The Beta’s voice rings out across the square. “By order of the king.”
The soldiers glare at the crowd of villagers until all excited chatter subsides.
“The king has announced a new Queen Covenant. He will visit each village in turn to choose a mate. All eligible females of childbearing age will receive formal invitations.” The Beta holds up a second square of gilded paper. “If you receive an invitation, you are to make ready and present yourself in the town square… tonight at dusk.” He clears his throat and steps down. The villagers break into loud speculation.
Leelah turns shining eyes to me. “Isn’t it wonderful? The king is visiting us. Tonight!”
I lick my dry lips. “What’s a Queen Covenant?”
“An old Medii custom. The king travels to each village to meet all eligible potential mates. Traditionally, he would choose an Omega to become his queen. Like now, don’t you see? He’s searching for his Omega!”
“Great,” I say weakly. “I’d better get going.” I back away from Leelah’s booth, my gaze fixed on the robed Beta and soldiers surrounding him. “Get ready to run,” I murmur to Rogue.
It puffs around my ears, whistling down my front to tug me forward by my hem. I get the warning too late. My back hits a solid wall.
Not a wall. An Alpha. I look up into the soldier’s familiar face. It’s Byrol. He grips my arm, his nostrils flaring—just like last time.
Oh fuck. Not this again.
The wind puffs out my skirts in panic.
“Byrol!” another Alpha calls, and Byrol dips his head close to mine.
“Go home and make ready,” he growls in my ear. “We will fetch you just before dusk.” He releases me and I hurry away like my boots are on fire. Rogue races with me, making my cloak stream out behind me.
I don’t stop until I’m back at the cottage. I burst through the front door, remembering too late that Ma might be napping.
She isn’t napping. She’s camped out in her chair with a gilded square of parchment lying on her lap and a supremely worried expression on her face.
“Oh, Rose,” she says in a broken voice, holding up the king’s formal invitation. “What did you do?”
