Not that I haven’t been fussing too. Just about different things.
We’ve spent the last forty-eight hours poring over maps and sorting supplies, but it still feels like there’s so much more to do. One task that falls on me is sorting out tonics and tinctures that might come in handy on the trip. To start with, I focus on raiding my parents’ belongings, specifically my mother’s cupboard of healing potions, pulling out anything my magic says will still work.
Once I have stripped the cupboards of all they have to offer, I set Mother’s tonic to simmer on the stove for Kay then head to the orangery, keen to make the most of whatever is on offer in here, too.
There’s a whole section that Summer will be able to utilise for food, and with a slight dose of magic I ensure that the plants will produce more than enough to feed not only her, Kay, and Jonas – and hopefully William, too – but also any other visitors they may have. We have the coin for food, but despite everything that has happened between us,the urge to make sure Kay is looked after is deeply ingrained, and to havefruits and berries on hand like this if cravings start is the least I can do for her.
With the suppression tonic simmering away, I decide to make another supplement, this time for pregnancy.
I find I am surprised by how calming the process of harvesting the seeds, leaves, and roots can be. The linden blossom cannot tell I’ve got Issen blood in my veins, and there’s no difference in how I pluck nettle and dock leaves now that I am rich, compared to when I was in the slums. Nature doesn’t care who or what I am.
If only the rest of the world were so tolerant.
I’m collecting a hefty handful of fenugreek seeds when a throat clears behind me.
‘William?’ My voice rises with surprise when I turn to find my brother at the door. ‘Is everything okay? Do you need something? Is it … are you …’
Images of that icy white-patterned skin rise in my mind, but I struggle to find the words. Yet as his hand touches his stomach, it’s clear he understands what I was trying to say.
He shakes his head. ‘No. Yes. I mean … no, I don’t need anything. I’m fine. I was just wondering—’ He cuts himself off, once again shaking his head as he hesitates.
Panic strikes. Has it spread further?
I scan his hands, his face, his neck. There’s no sign of it there. Not a hint of the death sentence that hides beneath his clothes.
Maybe it’s just that talking to his newly discovered sister still feels awkward. I get that. Every time I see him I’m struck with an overwhelming mixture of disbelief and awe that tightens my chest and causes my eyes to prick, combined with a mind-numbing fear that he might somehow be taken away from me again.
Getting to talk to my brother is a gift I never thought I’d get, and now I’m going to throw it all away by leaving so damned soon. But if I don’t, then I’m sentencing us all to death.
At least this way I might be able to find him a way to stop the spread.
‘I know you’re leaving soon, and I understand why I can’t come,’ he says. ‘You’re right – I know you’re right – but I was wondering … you know …’ His voice trails off, his eyes flicking to the plant I’m in the middle of harvesting. ‘I know I don’t have the same power with plants that you do, but maybe … maybe you could show me some things? Stuff our mother used to do?’
I don’t need to contemplate. The way my heart hitches answers for me. ‘Yes. Yes! Of course. Always.’
A sudden thickness obstructs my throat as my heart fills with the knowledge that my little brother wants to spend time with me. Sure, I will be leaving in a matter of hours, but if anything, that makes it all the more precious. ‘I’d love to show you a few things.’
I stand and start to show him around the maze of plants, telling him stories of our family’s time here when he was just a baby.
‘They were good parents then,’ I say when we’ve collected all we need and are headed to the kitchen to begin the pregnancy tonic. ‘Always thinking about us first. Always pushing us, but just the right amount.’
‘Can you tell me a little more about Father?’ William asks. ‘Not much good is said of him.’
Given how we were around the plants, so much of my conversation was focused on our mother and it makes sense that I would talk about her with more ease. She tried to do her best by us, even when her world was crumbling, whereas Father allowed himself to get lost in his grief. Even now, I have a hard time reconciling that with the love I still hold for him.
‘What do you want to know?’ I ask, pushing my own pain aside.
William’s brow furrows. ‘I know he was born out of wedlock. Was his mother stripped for carrying a child outside of marriage?’
‘No, no,’ I assure him with a hand on his shoulder. ‘Those strict rules only tend to extend to the named families in the High Hold. His mother was from one of the outer rings. I don’t know which … the fourth or fifth perhaps? His father was Lord Kultavaris, but like you said, he was a bastard, so Grandfather left him in the rings to rot.’ It feels like more of a crime now that I know what it’s like to be cast out.
I can’t help but think of Kyor and Thea – and the babe she supposedly bore.
The thought of them together makes me shudder and I push itdown. I’m not thinking of Kyor now. Not when this is one of the last pieces of time I will get to spend with my brother before I leave.
‘Grandfather and his wife never managed to produce an heir themselves, so when they learned how powerful Father was, Lord Kultavaris decided to recognise him formally so he could be brought into the High Hold to carry on his father’s title and lineage.’
‘Wow.’ William’s horror is replaced by a look of awe. ‘That must’ve been an amazing opportunity for him.’
