Page 51 of The Noldrin Witch

Ginger set the knife down on the counter and shook her head wearily. “About a week. I tried sleeping in another chamber, but Jeremy’s snoring now reaches the entire house.”

“You know there’s always the other potion I’ve been telling you about,” Morgaine whispered.

“No, no, Morgaine,” Ginger said. “I appreciate your concern, but my Jeremy is a wonderful man. He has been a blessing to me. Well, a blessing on the days I can catch some sleep. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t still be with him. It’s because of you that we are trying for a child.”

Morgaine took a deep breath and nodded. She ended up leaving an extra vial for Ginger free of charge. After profuse thanks and even a few tears from the woman, Morgaine made her way out of Butcher’s Alley before she fell into temptation and paid an early visit to her favorite butcher. She was headed toward the neighborhood of the noble ladies just a few blocks away. She had brought twenty Beauty Potions to provide for them, and for that she expected to collect enough coin for a month’s comfort.

Her first stop was the house of the wife of Commander Langohr. The guards at the gate recognized Morgaine immediately and rushed to open the doors. Once she was waiting in the foyer, the owner, Lady Regina, practically threw herself at Morgaine and hugged her as though she were a long-lost child of her own.

Once more, Morgaine came to the rescue of one of her afflicted clients. This one suffered from the not uncommon condition of having married a son of a cur. The burden weighed so heavily on the poor woman that not even one potion was enough to calm her nerves. In this case, Morgaine hadn’t dared offer the alternative potion, fearing that if word got out, she might very well end up in the dungeons. No, with this one Morgaine reserved a softer approach. She suspected that a good night in the bedchamber with a comely gentleman would cure whatever malady or curse the noblewoman had brought upon herself, and Morgaine possessed just enough sensibility to suggest as much.

“I’m going to leave you the usual potions, dear Regina,” Morgaine began. “But seeing how affected you are, I’m going to ask you to visit my friend Henrik, the apothecary. His shop is in Poisoner’s Alley. I’m myself on the way there after visiting a few other patients. He would know what to do, and I only ask that you keep an open mind. He is an expert in this particular field of afflictions. Bring light clothing, since he will see to giving you a massage you are not to forget.”

“Ah,” Regina gasped, plainly understanding the implication. “But Morgaine—”

“Do as I do, my darling,” she interrupted. “This is my domain, and I have known you for two years already. If it is gossip you fear, worry not. Henrik is one of the most discreet gentlemen in the entire kingdom. Once you see him, I’m quite certain you will not object to my recommendation.”

Lady Regina’s eyes lit for a moment. She gathered the calmest countenance she could manage and nodded.

“What would I do without you?” she said.

If it was true that Morgaine’s methods were unorthodox, she was also confident she had brought more happiness to the entire ton because of them. There was a certain grace and benevolence that followed her whenever she set out on a mission to rescue the poor afflicted souls of Metz, and for that she took more pride than she ever would in being the wife of the king himself.

The rest of her consultations passed without major incident. Morgaine had only taken interest in one comment concerning the king: Sebastian was back at the castle.

She had thought of going with Elise to show her where the famed rock was, but this changed everything. She still felt a certain stirring in her heart every time she heard mention of her former lover. They had shared some of the most intense passions Morgaine had known in her three hundred years, and she did not know whether his being a king had played some part in it, or if it was Sebastian alone who had managed to unsettle her so thoroughly.

At any rate, it was better to steer clear of the castle. The mere mention of Sebastian had already awakened the usual reactions in her. Considering her job done for the day, she set off again toward Butcher’s Alley to pay a visit to Hansel in hopes of finding some remedy herself. After that she would go straight to Henrik, where she hoped she might deliver a bit of additional affection.

Chapter 22

Elise was just finishing supper after tending the house and selecting the dress she would wear tomorrow for her grand day at the castle when a violent gust blew the door open. Framed in the orange hues of the pleasant evening was Morgaine along with a familiar witch Elise was happy to see.

“Beth!” she exclaimed while the two witches made their way into the common room and settled by the fireplace.

“I found this harlot at the apothecary,” the witch replied, a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced at Morgaine. “I couldn’t very well leave her loose among the many married men of Metz.”

Beth, plump, hooded-eyed, and sporting a preposterously low neckline, shifted in the chair she had dragged from the kitchen as she sniffed at the delicious stew simmering by the hearth.

“I never mingle with the married,” Morgaine said. “That’s why I went with Henrik.”

Beth did not look convinced. After adjusting her ample bosom, she added, “Morgaine, if you’re going to give it away so often, you should at least start charging.”

Morgaine smiled. “Well, that would make me a harlot for sure, and that I cannot consent to.”

Beth let out a cackle and turned her attention to the simmering pot in the kitchen.

“What are you cooking, my darling? It smells like heaven.”

Morgaine lowered her voice. “One visit to Henrik and one bowl of Elise’s stews, and you’d truly experience paradise, dear Beth.”

Elise shook her head and went to tend the stew, which by now was surely ready. “I made it to celebrate my new employment. I start tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Beth grumbled. “Yes, yes. Morgaine already told me about the fairies. I cannot stomach those tarts, but that’s precisely why I’m here. To celebrate that you’ll soon be closer to developing your powers as a witch, dear. Once you get a taste of real power, you’ll understand why no fairy could ever compare to us.”

“Amen,” Morgaine rasped.

Beth turned to her friend. “This one here gave up a queenship just to remain on the prowl.”