Arthur tried to tune out the noise as the sound of a chair scraping back from the table filled the air. Joseph’s voice pickedback up as his brother jumped into conversation with Ayla and Amara. And Arthur was thankfully, blessedly, left alone.
He didn’t move. He simply kept his head in his hands, with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to will his headache to go away so that he might go about his day.
“Here,” Marissa’s voice sounded beside him, a warm, light palm resting on his shoulder to grab his attention. “Drink this.”
Arthur lifted his head, wincing as he opened his eyes and the light made the pressure worsen. Slowly, the scene around him came into focus.
Marissa was sitting in the chair next to him, a mug of what appeared to be tea in her hands.
“What is it?” he asked, eyeing it warily.
“It’s a medicinal tea me sister taught me to make when I was young,” she explained. “We’d often be summoned when the local priest had acute headaches. They might be like yers. And he swore by this tea. Said it was the only thing that kept him goin’ some days.”
Arthur nodded. He had never encountered anything that could help when his head began hurting like this. But the look in Marissa’s eyes was so hopeful that he didn’t want to let her down.
He could try it, at the very least.
Pressing the mug to his lips, he emptied it in a few quick gulps. The liquid within was warm and had a thick, pungent aroma. But it tasted quite bland, which was unexpected, considering the smell.
Once he’d downed the last drop, Arthur placed the mug back in Marissa’s extended hands.
“It will take a few minutes,” she added, setting the mug down on the dining table in front of them. “But the pain should start to ebb soon. It gets better bit by bit.”
Arthur nodded, not wanting to say anything else as his head gave another throb. He placed his head back in his hands and closed his eyes, breathing slowly as the liquid sloshed in his empty belly.
He heard Marissa move from the seat she’d occupied just a moment ago, back to the space beside Ayla. The conversation around him continued.
There’s nay way somethin’ as simple as tea will get rid of this. Nay one has been able to cure me headaches.
But as soon as the thought came to his mind, Arthur began to feel a bit of relief. The sharp pain in his forehead dulled to a mild ache, something a little more manageable than it had been moments ago.
A few more minutes went by, and suddenly he felt like he could open his eyes. The light didn’t hurt anymore. He blinked rapidly, clearing the haze his headache had brought on.
Ayla and Amara were deep in conversation with Joseph. But Marissa was watching him, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
“Feelin’ better?” she asked, her tone indicating that she already knew he was.
“Aye,” Arthur answered, unable to hide the awe in his voice. With each passing moment, his head became more and more clear. “Where did ye learn to do that again?”
He knew that she’d already told him. A conversation niggled at the back of his mind, but he was having trouble remembering it.
Was it something she had spoken directly to him? Or had she told the others? Something about being taught by a healer?
“Me older sister, Freya,” Marissa explained patiently, repeating the information for him all over again. “Before she married Michael, she was a healer. She taught me and Abigail, even though we were young. There used to be a priest that got headaches like that at least once a week. Swore by that tea, he did.”
Arthur nodded, the story she’d told him slowly coming back to him. Bits and pieces of what she’d told the others filtered through as well, finally making sense.
“And ye helped yer sister when Cody was poisoned, is that right?”
She grinned. “Aye. And while we worked to heal him, I would tell him the stories I was thinkin’ of writin’. It gave me the chance to see if the story was good, and it gave him somethin’ to focus on besides how horrible he was feelin’.”
She seemed proud of this, and a flicker of amusement stirred inside him.
Before he could respond, his stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him that he hadn’t yet eaten.
Between the run-in with the council and the resulting headache, he hadn’t been able to. But now he found himself famished.
He turned his attention to his plate and picked up his fork, shoveling food into his mouth.
