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“Hey pretty girl,” I cooed, stroking her brown and black, brindle fur.
She nudged me with her snout, demanding more. Yeah, totally rotten.
“We need to go into town to get Mother her medicine.”
Sugarfoot shook her mane in protest. She hated when I interrupted her grazing. Not that she ever stopped—she was a damn glutton.
“I know, but her coughing fits have gotten worse, and I’m afraid if we don’t…” I trailed off and cleared my throat. “We won’t be long, I promise.” With a kiss to her snout and a resigned grunt from Sugarfoot, I grabbed her saddle off the tree and strapped it to her back. Dodging her thrashing head, I fit her bridle next.
I wiped my brow and peered at her. “Seriously? We’ll be back before you know it, you lard. Be good and I see a few apples in your future. Now quit it.”
Sugarfoot nickered, but she let me finish, remaining calm as I pulled myself onto the saddle. I swore she understood what I was saying—even if she did the opposite half the time. Mother would say she’d learned it from me, as if the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
I tapped my heels into her sides once, twice, bringing her to an immediate canter before we leaped over the picket fence and landed on the cobblestone street on the other side.
Her hooves clopped against the pavement in a rhythmic pattern, sending birds scattering in the opposite direction. The crisp breeze kissed my face as I leaned forward, cueing her into a gallop. An untamed smile adorned my face as we raced down the road, my blood surging through my veins. I loved the rush of going fast. When it was me and Sugarfoot out in the open, we were invincible—the closest to flying I’d ever get. And despite her lazy demeanor, she loved it too and pushed herself as fast as possible. Acres of field to play and run, yet she saved her short bursts of energy for me.
An hour later, Wellington Palace loomed into view. Atop the hill, the colossal white granite castle cast a commanding presence over the city. Tall, angular towers reached into the sky like needles, while the expansive cathedral windows shimmered in the sunlight.
Ahead, the square bustled with activity as locals perused the outdoor marketplace, and sellers enthusiastically called out prices. The air was filled with vibrant chatter, the enticing aroma of street food, and the colorful array of goods on display, created a familiar blend of vitality. So different from the stillness of my life on the outskirts.
I pulled my hood over my face as we trotted through the center of it—an attempt to avoid unnecessary conversation. If there was one thing people in this town loved more than talking about someone, it was pretending like they didn’t. It was exhausting trying to decipher who you could and couldn’t trust, and with Lilian’s recent passing, I didn’t care to rehash it. I’d had my fair share of confrontation with the townsfolk over the years, and the last thing I wanted this morning was to deal with their fake condolences.
When we arrived at the apothecary fifteen minutes later, I tied Sugarfoot to an empty wooden post beside the other horses and gripped her by the bridle. “You better behave yourself this time,” I warned, readjusting my satchel.
She stuck her nose in the air to avoid the glower I gave her.
“If I have to chase your ass down because you chewed through another pair of reins to go gallivanting throughout the city, I swear I’ll turn you into a pair of leather boots.”
Sugarfoot huffed, and I whispered one more threat before turning my back on her.
The bell above the door jingled as I entered the store. Jars of multiple sizes that each contained a unique mixture covered the shelves in product order, further organized by color and size. It was homely and welcoming—and the gas lanterns and candlelight provided a calming ambiance against the hunter green walls and dark wood.
Mari wandered out from behind the curtain as I browsed the center display tables, her face bright and tone joyous when she spotted me. “Elowyn, how are you, love?” She flicked her wispy blonde bangs out of her eyes as she strolled over to me, pulling me into a hug.
I set the crystal I’d been admiring back on the table when she released me and met her friendly gaze. “Honestly? I’ve been better.”
If there was someone with whom I could share my feelings and who would truly grasp what I was going through, it was Mari. She’d become like an adoptive aunt over the years, and I felt safe confiding in her. Never once had she made me feel small or judged. Not to mention, she always went above and beyond for my mother. People like her were hard to come by in Wendover. When you found one, you held on to them firmly.
“I read about Lilian. How sad, she was so young. You two were close, no?”
I nodded, offering nothing more as she rested her forearms on the display table across from me.
“Hm. Such a shame,” Mari continued, “and your mother? How’s she faring? How are those smelling rocks I gave you to try?”
“They’re amazing. She’s able to take a full breath within seconds during one of her coughing fits.”
“Oh, good!” Her hands clasped under her chin. “I’m thrilled to hear it. Those took weeks to perfect. How are they lasting? Do you need more?” Mari shuffled through her assortment of wicker baskets.
I shook my head, tracing a finger along the different canisters and bowls on top of the table. “No, they’re holding up great. I’m actually here to pick up more of your figroot tonic. Mother started coughing up blood this morning, and with everything going on, I didn’t realize she was out.”
“Oh love, I’m so sorry.” Mari flicked her gaze to her feet. The frown on her face tied my stomach into knots. “Mrs. Belmont came by yesterday and bought the last bottle. Her husband’s fallen ill, you know. I should’ve known and set some aside. I just knew something like this would happen.” She continued to mumble to herself as she paced the shelves, frantically looking for something, when she finally grabbed an unlabeled, deep blue jar. “This is a new pain elixir I’ve been working on if you’d like to try it? It’s not quite as strong, but it should hold her over—keep her comfortable, anyway. Just until I get it back in stock? No coin necessary, it’s on the house.”
Mari handed me the elixir, and I weighed the bottle in my hand, defeated. “When will you get the figroot back in stock?”
She wrung her stained apron between her fingers. “Well, you see, that specific tonic uses the black seeds found in Elkway.” Her face grew pained, and she took a sharp breath, causing my stomach to drop. “Until Wendover can settle on new trade agreements with them, I’m afraid I won’t be getting another shipment.”
My hands rested on the table so I wouldn’t tip over. I remembered reading about the negotiations in the paper weeks ago—and the hysteria from local business that followed. But I would’ve assumed they’d reached an agreement by now. How was my mother—our realm—expected to survive without Elkway’s imports? They were our main supplier of medicine, grains, and lumber. Wendover wasn’t impoverished by any means. We produced many luxury goods. However, none of that would matter if townsfolk started dying from the common cold.
