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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LENORE
Harol was, in fact, not thrilled. He had several choice words but seemed to accept their joint fate as apprentice and master.
In the following month, he kept her busy with reading. So much reading. There were tomes on basic Arcosian biology, which she had already grasped from her limited resources, along with biologies of other known alien species: Khargal, Nakkoni, and Reilendeer. These didn’t delve into great detail; instead, they focused on the basics. Universally safe medications. Poison. How to keep an injured person alive long enough for a specialist to arrive. It felt very much like the survival handbook Lenore found in that cabin when she first arrived: useful but limited.
She was given a lavishly decorated suite in the palace. Lavish seemed to be the default style for the palace, with ornate details, gold gilding on every surface, marble polished to a shine, and murals on every ceiling, even in her bedroom.
Her rooms were definitely more luxurious than the bare room and board she expected from the description in the job offer. The suite consisted of three rooms: a parlor, a study, a bedroom, and a private bathroom with a tub large enough to fit three people comfortably. Not that she was doing that kind of entertaining. Or any entertaining. There was a lot to learn and not enough hours in the day.
The furnishings were plush and comfortable, homey if lavish, like Marie Antoinette playing a country farmer. Faux simple. The mural above her bedroom erased any notion that the decor was simple. A flock of karu took flight across the ceiling, their inky black wings against a deep blue night sky, moonlight playing on their feathers. Silver stars twinkled in the light from her bedside table lamp, and the karu wings seemed to move as the moon traveled through the night.
The view during the day couldn’t be beat, either. The palace sat on an island in a harbor with open water to the south, a river carving out the island from the mainland to the west and north, and another island to the east. Farhaven, the capital city, surrounded the palace, an intriguing mix of shining tech and ancient stone. Gleaming steel bridges spanned the water, connecting the palace’s island to the rest of the city. Her suite faced south, offering gentle sunrises and colorful sunsets. Not that she had time to explore the city or enjoy sunsets.
Lenore shadowed Harol at the Royal Academy, where she was not quite a student and definitely not viewed as a doctor. She also shadowed him during patient appointments but was not yet trusted to see a patient on her own. In theory, if a human showed up, she’d be in charge, and Harol would shadow her, but it hadn’t happened yet.
The days were long, and her feet ached by the time she collapsed in bed. It wasn’t worse than her first year of residency, but she wasn’t in her twenties anymore. She was a thirty-six-year-old woman with graying hair and knees that made alarming noises when she rolled out of bed.
Harol pumped her for information about humans, common medical conditions, and reactions to Arcosian medications. A Harol bearing a plate of treats, or a cup of coffee was not to be trusted.
Harol set down a cup of coffee on the desk by her elbow and sat, watching her with suspicious intensity.
“You don’t honestly think I’m going to drink this?” she asked, pushing the cup away. “What’s in the tea?”
“A common medication to lower blood pressure. Drink it and report if you feel any lightheadedness. Let me check your pulse so I have a baseline.” He scribbled down his observations before reaching for her wrist.
Lenore jerked it away. “What’s the magic word?”
“Humans are so superstitious.”
“It’s please, you bossy bastard.”
Harol huffed, a sound she came to associate with amusement. “I will check your pulse. Please.”
“You know, informed consent is a thing. It’s unethical to dose me without my permission.” Lenore held out her wrist because of information exchange, blah blah. Not that Harol would get good data. Her pulse rate would be rapid because she was annoyed.
“You are my apprentice. My consent is enough,” he said.
“Wow. That’s wrong on so many counts. You’re lucky I don’t dump that coffee on you.”
“Being observed can change behavior,” Harol said.
There might be truth to that, but the point stood. “I could have an allergic reaction. I could stop breathing. Or develop nausea. I have a sensitive stomach.”
“Hypotheticals.” He pressed two fingers to her wrist and kept his gaze on a timer. Not one single eye was on her.
“No, you’re not hearing me. I’m not your experiment or test subject. If you try to dose me again without my consent, I will throw that cup of coffee back in your face,” she said, which garnered no reaction. Fine. Time to escalate. “You want to fuck around and find out? I will make myself vomit all over your shoes.”
He paused, finally looking at her, surprise on his face. Her threat was gross and childish, but it seemed to reach him. “You would make yourself sick on purpose?”
Lenore held his gaze. She’d worked with asshole doctors for years and wasn’t about to let this one walk all over her. “On purpose. On command. And right on your feet.”
He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I was a medic in the military. Bodily functions do not frighten me.”
“Your shoes look fancy. Not military grade at all.” She leaned over in an exaggerated manner to get a better look. “Are they waterproof? Want to find out?”
Harol pushed himself up from the chair and took a step back. “You have made your point.”
