He laughed again. Amaris held back her grin. She could get used to his laugh.
“No, that’s my mother, Giselle.”
“Holy shit, Adelaide is like a carbon copy of her.”
“A what?”
“I mean twin. They look identical.”
He smiled, his thumb brushing over the small picture. “Yes, Adelaide and I have taken on more Burchard traits.”
“Then why don’t you and Esaias look more alike?”
“The red hair pops up every now and then. One of his nephews has it, and my stepmother does as well.” He replaced the picture in his pouch. “I think that should be strong enough,” he said, eyeing the tea.
“Right,” Amaris sputtered, striding to the worktable and straining the leaves.
Theodoric took the cup this time, not needing her assistance. Before he had a second to say anything else, she slipped into the tower stairwell and closed the door behind her. She didn’t know why she needed to step away. He would pass out soon enough, and there was no way she planned to escape now. Theodoric was on that cot because of her. It wasn’t only the paramedic within her choosing to stay and see to his healing, but Amaris herself.
She grasped the picture of her family to her chest and slid down the door, replaying the night over in her head, her parents’ bravery and the words she uttered until her voice was hoarse and her legs numb. “Mommy said swim.”
Amaris nestled her head on her knees. She no longer had a life jacket to keep her afloat, only her mother’s last words. But Amaris would swim and keep herself afloat. She’d heal Theodoric as she had Esaias, and one day she’d find her way back home.
Chapter 27
Amaris
Amaris poked andprodded at the flesh of Theodoric’s back. He’d passed out from another dose of cudweed. She’d read up on the herb, and from all she’d gathered, one couldn’t overdose on the stuff, even if it was injected with a needle. Besides the poisonous nuts and the flesh-eating herb, the medical aspects of Magoria hadn’t ceased to astonish her. If she didn’t have a life waiting for her back home, she’d contemplate staying and setting up her own mystique business, far away from the duke, though. It’d been six days since Theodoric’s whipping, but his wounds had already begun to scab over. She could barely believe it. Each morning as she checked, the progress seemed to speed up.
“How is our patient today?” Esaias grinned, setting a plate of eggs and mystery meat on the worktable for Amaris and a bowl of broth for Theodoric.
Esaias had taken over for him in his state, but unlike Theodoric, he didn’t leave for hours at a time to train. Esaias had at least toned down the provocative comments and brought her food every few hours. She’d begun to notice the increasing presence of soldiers throughout the manor. Esaiashad taken to posting downstairs at night while she slept on the floor. The first few nights Amaris had been worried for Theodoric, but now Esaias felt it was safer for her to sleep in the tower.
“He was in a lot of pain and asked for some cudweed as soon as he woke up.”
“That isn’t like him,” Esaias said, taking a spot in a velvety, turquoise chair. He’d brought them up a few days ago, after complaining that the upholstered ones werefrail and absolutely uncomfortable.
“Try getting nearly fifty lashes and see how you feel,” Amaris said, placing the last dressing over Theodoric’s wound. She’d started using yuxiway leaves on the lacerations to prevent an infection from taking over. With how weak he was, she doubted he could handle one.
“The Conjugation is coming up. I know he’ll want to be at full strength for it,” Esaias said.
“Why’s that?”
“I would say to drink and be merry, but knowing Theo, he’ll want to be on alert.” He rested his narrow face in his palm, the indents below his cheekbones shadowing against the fire. There was a hint of resemblance there, not much, but he had the tight jawline like Theodoric.
“So it’ll be like a big hoopla?”
“I’ve never heard of a Conjugation referred to as a hoopla, but if you mean an elaborate party with people from all over Godwin, then you’re correct.” Esaias rubbed at his temples, his lips smacking together.
“I’m assuming I’ll be up here,” Amaris muttered, wadding up the old bandages.
He stood and headed toward the wall of shelves. “You don’t have to be.” He reached for the highest shelf, pulling out a jar of amber liquid.
“Are you the one who’s been messing with my herbs?”
He turned over his shoulder, raising a brow and giving her a sinful smirk. “I’ll mess with your herbs any day. All you have to do is ask.”
Amaris groaned, crossing her arms. “What is that?”
