She ground a little more finely, the way he had shown her in the first lesson.
“Ye’re pressing too hard on the left side,” he said, and she adjusted immediately. “The consistency should be even. Uneven grinding means the patient gets too much of one thing and too little of another.”
Edith nodded, slowing her pace.
She thought about that, the idea that something as small as uneven pressure could affect the effectiveness of a remedy. That the difference between helping someone and harming them could be as simple as rushing a few steps.
It sobered her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She had always considered healing to be a form of knowledge. Knowing which herb did what, which root treated which ailment. But Martin was teaching her something else beneath the knowledge. Healing was also patience.
Perhaps I should apply me knowledge elsewhere.
Her mind flashed to Aaron again before she could stop it.
The distraction did not last, though. Martin handed her another batch of herbs, and her eyes lit up as soon as she recognized them.
“These are for fever,” she said.
Martin’s brows rose slightly. “Aye,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Ye truly are a fast learner. Perhaps ye are almost ready to become a healer.”
Her heart swelled with pride, and she beamed.
By the end of the afternoon, she had learned enough to be given small tasks.
“Ye’re improving faster than most.”
Edith blinked. “Truly?”
“Aye,” Martin said. “I truly think ye’re ready for more. Yer next lesson would be a real examination.”
Edith glanced down at her hands.
A real examination? With me own hands?
The thought of it felt unreal.
She let out a soft breath, the excitement settling in slowly.
“The examination,” she began. “Would it be on a real patient?”
Martin let out a soft laugh. “Nay,” he said quietly. “But ye’ll examine a real person. A volunteer from the castle.”
Edith’s face broke into a smile.
’Tis real. I truly am becoming a healer.
She raised her chin slightly, immediately thinking of Violet as the ideal volunteer for her examination.
“May I suggest someone?” she asked. “Violet, the lass ye saw earlier.”
Martin hesitated. “I…”
“She could be a second candidate if ye already have someone in mind.”
Martin sighed softly. “Me Lady.” He avoided her gaze, his voice quieter now as he moved toward the shelves, turning his back to her. “Perhaps we could discuss it some other time.”
He moved some of his jars, sorting them carefully so that each one was perfectly aligned with the next.
