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I wonder if there is a way to add something to help with the pain, a sleeping tonic they could take before the cure. Something to cause them less suffering than what Sigrid endured.
That’s assuming everyone reacts to it the way she did, that they are even healed by it at all.
There is so much I don’t know yet. And if there is a chance that I won’t make it back, I need to be sure that Zaina, Leif and Sigrid all know exactly what I did the first time, so they can recreate it if the worst happens.
I’m so caught up in my plans, I don’t see Odger until he’s standing right in front of me.
If we’re short on thorns, at least I know where to start cutting corners.
“My King.” He addresses me politely, but there is a false note to his tone, as always. “It is good to see you. I worried that you had forgotten about the rest of us now that the servant woman is cured.”
My fists clench at my sides, and I remind myself that I haven’t exercised self-control for seventeen years just to kill him now on a whim. Instead of showing him exactly what I think of his disrespect to a woman who is better than he will ever be, I take a calming breath. As despicable as he is, he is still Jokithan, and it is my responsibility to care for him.
“Just be glad that I’m not doling it out on merit, since you’d never be cured that way.” I walk away without answering him. He’ll be returned to his original state soon enough, and it might be more than he deserves considering his traitorous relationship with the woman who did this to him.
Odger is in front of me with a lightning-fast movement, blocking my path. “It’s curious, my king, how you went all those years without a single iota of progress, and now you’ve managed to come up with the cure...all on your own.”
I refuse to acknowledge what he’s getting at, refuse to give in to the tendrils of fear at the idea of the despicable man having knowledge that could put Zaina in danger.
“Each failure was progress,” I tell him instead. “That’s how science works.”
“As you say. And yet --” There is a false note of contemplation in his oily voice. “The Lady Zaina certainly does seem to offer a unique perspective on things. I wonder if it wasn’t her influence...”
A muscle in my eye twitches, but otherwise, I remain perfectly still. “You meandid,” I correct him in a tone laced with lethal fury, and he cowers back before he can catch himself. “And you have no cause for concern, because I have a vested interest in healing you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, because once you’re well, I’m sure you will be in a hurry to return to your estates. Immediately.” I can’t banish one of my own nobles and keep support of the rest, at least not without the story I’ve already withheld for too long, but I can make sure he stays far away for a while. “In fact, I would say a solid century away from the affairs of the castle sounds about right. For your health, of course.”
“You can’t do this--” Odger sputters but cuts off when he sees the look on my face. “What I mean is, you know I have no holdings. I have no home to go back to.”
“I am certain that the new owners of your estate will help you find lodging.”
“But--” he starts, but I hold up a hand to silence him.
“What you do when you leave here is not my concern, Lord Odger, but you willleavehere.”
He holds my gaze like he might argue, and I quirk an eyebrow. I am King, and he has made few friends these past several years. He glares, but nods.
“As you say, My King.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Zaina
Sigrid comes back shortly after Einar leaves. She walks in with the same brusque, competent air I suspect she does everything, now that she’s back to full capacity. Her silvery-blond hair is braided back on the sides, similarly to Einar’s, and her black tunic and trousers are immaculate.
“Were you happy with your gift?” She fixes me with a bright blue stare that seems to look right through me.
I debate how to answer her question when I know she already suspects the truth. She doesn’t rush me, though, setting aside the bundle of clothes she brought in and moving to Einar’s wardrobe.
“There’s a lot of tea in there,” I finally say.
“Ah. And you don’t think you will be around long enough to drink it?” She is moving aside some of his things and taking others out entirely, reorganizing the space.
Relief courses through me at her understanding of all the things I can’t seem to articulate.
“We both know things can’t stay as they are,” I respond.
