“The High Lord requested I take a look at it, my dear,” she replied, instantly calming my nerves.
I moved my hair out of the way, and she studied the blistered sore on my chest.
More wrinkles formed between her brows.
“Well, that is unusual, isn’t it,” she stated. “I don’t know. Is it?” I asked.
“Would you say that this is healing slower than a burn typically would in the mortal realm?” she asked.
I paused. I hadn’t thought about it, but it should have been scabbed over by now.
“Yes, it did seem to be healing slow, even by mortal standards,” I replied.
Her eyes narrowed deep in thought. “Hmm. Does it still hurt?” she asked. “It’s very tender,” I confessed.
There was a look in her eyes like she suspected something but was not telling me. She shook her head and offered a comforting smile.
“The High Lord probably just got a little carried away. I’ll give you some ointment and bandage it. Come back twice a day to change the bandages,” she instructed.
I nodded, and she began to clean and treat my wound.
“I did have one other concern, but it is a private matter,” I stated, nodding to the fireplace.
She caught on immediately and held out her hand, extinguishing it, and then formed an iridescent bubble around us.
“You can speak freely, child. This sound shield will keep all words between us,” she said as she seated herself in her rocking chair.
I took a breath and cleared my throat. “You know how you restored my ovaries when I got here?... Is there any way to…prevent pregnancy…for now, until I’m ready and things are more certain.”
She nodded and leaned back in her chair.
“Ahh yes. Such herbs exist, but they are banned and are considered illegal here in this Kingdom.”
“What? Why?!” I asked.
She sighed. “The Fire Fae believe that power is, above all, the most important. It may seem that they worship a God Dragon, but make no mistake—they worship power. There is power in numbers. As rare as Fae children are, they do not want to prevent any from being born, so the council made an amendment to the holy tomes, and it was written into law.”
My eyes widened and panic began to rise in my chest. Of course, I wanted to be a mother, but certainly not right now, with the war and my shaky relationship with Titus. Bringing a child into this mess would almost be cruel.
She continued, “Which is why if you are looking for such herbs, you only come to me.”
A mason jar of dried herbs suddenly appeared on the bedside table to my right.
“A spoonful in your morning tea once a week will do the trick. I’ll deliver it discreetly to your room while you’re at dinner, along with your elixirs,” she added with a wrinkled grin, one that reminded me of my great grandma.
With concern, I said, “Gleeda, thank you so much. Are you sure? I don’t want you to get into trouble over this.”
She threw her wrist, flicking her hand, as she said, “Pshhhh. I’ve been here so long no one even notices me. Don’t worry about me, child.”
Something about this entire conversation felt off. With subtle skepticism and confusion, I politely asked, “Why are you helping me? Aren’t you religious too? I saw you praying to the miniature statue of Eloria that day.”
She looked at me and arched a silver brow with a proud smirk on her thin lips and replied, “Things aren’t always what they seem, child.”
Before I could respond, the sound shield vaporized. I took it as my cue to leave.
I thanked her and headed to the door.
When I opened it, I was surprised to see the little flying fire ball.
