Elizabeth smiled faintly, tilting her head as if to appraise Annabeth further.
“Ye’re humble, lass, and that speaks well of ye,” she said, “but daenae dismiss what ye’ve done so lightly. Me son means the world to this family, to this clan. Without ye, we might have lost him, and that’s nay small thing. He is the only surviving child we have. I lost two, one before him and one after him.”
“I'm very sorry to hear that, Me Lady.”
“One happened in childbirth and the other did nae make it beyond a year, so ye see, Marcus is a miracle and the heir,” she said.
Annabeth ducked her head, unsure how to respond, and murmured, “It was me honor, truly.”
She focused on the flickering flames in the hearth, feeling the weight of the Lady’s gratitude pressing down on her. The conversation felt heavier than anything she’d faced before, and she struggled to find the right words.
Elizabeth, sensing Annabeth’s unease, shifted the subject with a gentle smile. “But enough about Marcus, aye? I’ve heard yer skills as a healer extend far beyond him. Ye’ve been kind enough to agree to help me husband, Leon, with his condition as well. For that, I am equally thankful.”
Annabeth’s eyes widened slightly, and she straightened in her chair. “I will do what I can, of course” she replied modestly. “I’m happy to see to him whenever ye need me.”
Elizabeth nodded approvingly and leaned forward slightly. “Then if ye’ve a moment now, I’d like ye to attend to him. He’s been havin’ a difficult time of late, and yer care will be a great comfort to him.”
Annabeth stood quickly, eager to prove herself useful. “Of course, Me Lady,” she said. “I’ll just fetch me healing bag and see to him right away.”
She gave a polite nod and moved toward the door, grateful for the chance to focus on her work rather than the conversation that had left her feeling so exposed.
A few moments later, Annabeth knelt beside Leon’s bed, her healing bag open beside her. She placed her fingers on his wrist, feeling the unsteady rhythm of his pulse. Her brow furrowed as she took in his shallow breathing and pale, clammy skin. “Ye’ve been feelin’ weak, aye?” she asked softly, her voice low so as not to disturb the quiet room.
“Aye, lass,” Leon murmured, his voice faint and strained. “Weak... and me chest feels tight.”
Annabeth nodded, leaning closer as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. The faint warmth of a low fever confirmed her suspicions. “And the pain,” she continued, her tone gentle but focused, “does it stay in yer chest, or does it spread to yer arms or back?”
Leon grimaced, shifting slightly under her touch. “It spreads to me arms and me legs—’tis why I stay confined in the bed most days,” he admitted, his words slow and deliberate. “Feels like a heavy weight on me chest when it comes. I ken I’m done for. I can feel it in me bones, but if I can have the strength to walk the castle a few times a week, then that would be a blessing.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she pieced his symptoms together. She pulled back, reaching into her bag to retrieve a small vial of tincture. “The symptoms ye’re describin’... they point to somethin’ called failures of the heart,” she said carefully.“It’s yer heart, Laird MacLennan. The pain and weakness come from within, and though I can ease it, I cannae cure it if that be what it is.”
Leon’s eyes sharpened despite his weariness. “It’s me heart, ye say?” he repeated, his tone carrying a weight of understanding. “And there’s naythin’ to be done?”
“Nay cure, but I can help ye manage it,” Annabeth said, meeting his gaze steadily. She lifted another vial, pouring a few drops into a small cup of water. “This will ease the tightness in yer chest and help yer blood flow better. Ye’ll need rest and to avoid strainin’ yerself fer some time in the beginning. But if we can help yer heart manage, then ye shall have the strength to walk about more. This means nay heavy drink as it makes the heart slow. I will make a list of items to consume for the cook that will help ye.”
Leon chuckled weakly, the sound hollow. “Avoid straining,” he muttered. “That’s a fine joke, lass, when I’ve got the heart of a stubborn Scot.”
Annabeth softened her tone though her expression remained firm. “If ye want to stay strong, ye’ll need to listen to what I’m tellin’ ye. Overworkin’ yerself will only make things worse.”
Leon studied her for a moment then sighed heavily. “I’ve lived long enough to ken when a fight cannae be won,” he said quietly.
Her chest tightened at his resignation, but she steadied herself. “Then let me help ye make the time ye’ve left as comfortable asit can be,” she said firmly. “I’ll do what I can to ease yer pain and keep ye strong for as long as possible, and if ye follow me orders, then it may keep ye with us for a long time.”
Leon’s lips curled into a faint smile though it didn’t reach his tired eyes. “Ye’re a kind soul, lass,” he said. “More than I deserve, I think.”
Annabeth shook her head as she helped steady the cup in his hand. “Kindness has naythin’ to do with what’s deserved, Laird MacLennan. It’s me duty, and I’ll see it through.”
She stood and began packing her bag, her movements quiet and efficient. “I’ll check on ye later,” she promised. “If ye need me before then, send word, and I’ll come right away, but that tincture will take some time to work.”
Leon’s gaze drifted toward her, his expression pensive. “Thank ye, Annabeth,” he said softly.
Without another word, she slipped from the room, her mind heavy with the truth of his condition and the weight of her own promise to him.
She moved through the apothecary with a determined focus, sorting herbs into jars with precise movements to make more of the tincture for Leon. The rhythmic grinding of the mortar and pestle offered her a small reprieve from the thoughts swirling in her mind. It had been three days since Marcus kissed her, and the memory still burned brightly in her chest. She could feel the warmth of his lips as if it had only just happened.
Ye’ve got work to do, Annabeth; nay time for foolish distractions.
Leaning against the cool stone wall, Annabeth let out a shaky breath, her thoughts pulling her in two directions.
