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But my uncle merely burst out laughing. “No, no, child. No woman will be harmed in this year’s springtime rites.”
I was more relieved than I should have been. “Good. What a horrible tradition it must have been, if indeed it existed.”
My uncle moved over to the locked cabinet and took a ring of keys from the belt around his waist. “If you are truly to accompany Arthur on a journey of some sort, I see no reason not to give this to you now.” He pulled out a squat black bag, tied with string and held it up. “This should be enough for a month, if not longer. But before you leave, you will come here and I will refill this. In the meantime, use the measuring spoon inside the bag. Brew hot water. Add a scoop. Stir, then let it settle for half an hour, and drink.”
“It sounds so simple.”
“Preparing the mixture is so simple a servant could do it. And they have,” he reminded me. “The mixture itself, however.” He shook the bag. “Only the finest apothecaries in the kingdom could craft such a subtle concoction.”
“Only you, in other words,” I said with a smile.
He shrugged modestly. “Perhaps one or two others. In all of Aercanum.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the bag gratefully. “This will help.”
“Help you to feel safer?” he asked gently. “I have no wards. No amulets.” He raised a finger. “I do, however, have many deadly poisons.”
“That won’t be necessary. At least, not yet.” My lips curved. “Thank you.”
“Well, if you should change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I ran up the stairs, feeling lighter than I had in days. When I got to the top, I stopped and sniffed. Was it the herbs?
I wrinkled my nose. No, it was most definitely me.
Did I have time to bathe before going to the dining hall? I would have to at least change and clean up a little, I decided. Late or not, I could not go in this state.
Half an hour later, I pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the castle dining hall.
I had freshened up with a wash basin and cloth as best I could, stripping off my sweaty tunic and breeches and replacing them with a fresh ensemble.
Now I strode between the long rows of wooden tables and benches, my long legs encased in a pair of rich brown breeches that hugged the curves of my hips. I wore a blouse that was more elaborate than my usual plain wool tunic, made of soft white cotton with delicate lace edging the collar and cuffs. Overtop I had added a fitted black velvet jacket with silver buttons in the shape of stars. My hair was, if not clean, then at least brushed and rebraided. A few loose strands hung around my face in a way I hoped looked soft and artful rather than simply messy.
The blouse was high-necked, of course. The wounds on my arms had mostly healed, though there were still traces as Galahad had observed. But the marks above my breast where Florian had carved his name with that fucking dagger–those would take longer to fade. Part of me was not sure they ever would. But I did not want to think about that now.
Not when Kaye was flying down from the head of the room towards me. He had leaped down from the raised dais where a large table had been set for the king and his siblings, as well as his current favorites.
I took note of Agravaine and Florian to Arthur's right. Kaye had been sitting to Arthur's left. I would make sure to join him there, as far from the Emrys family as possible.
“Morgan!” Kaye’s face was split in a happy grin.
I winced, anticipating the moment when–oof! He hit me at full speed, nearly knocking me back into a group of nobles sitting on the bench behind us.
“Watch it, would you? Who do you think you are?”
I opened my mouth to apologize, then realized it was Galahad. His father, Sir Ector, sat beside him. Both men were laughing.
“Decided to join us after all, did you?” Sir Ector inquired.
I noticed Dame Halyna across from him and blushed.
“Yes, I... Arthur requested it.”
Sir Ector’s eyebrows went up. “Good. As he should. You’re his family. It will be nice to see you up there where you belong. By your brothers.”
I tried to smile. Kaye had still not let go of me. He was hanging on my arm like an excited puppy.
“Come join us for dessert,” Galahad suggested. “Lancelet may even turn up.”
