Chapter 15
“I am not going back to that house, Christabella,” I said, turning on my heel as Maddox and Alexander hauled Edmund up the stairs.
Christabella poked her head through the threshold. “Can I come in, Alexander?”
“Sure,” he replied over his shoulder. He grunted when he, Maddox, and Edmund stumbled into the wall. “Horsefeathers, you’re heavy.”
The three of them disappeared up to the second floor, the wooden stairs creaking under their combined weight.
I whirled around as Christabella conjured a smaller light on her finger, more suitable for indoors.
“Are you going to tell me why you’ve brought two strangers here? And why you didn’t tell me you were here at all?” Christabella asked, setting a hand on her hip.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and paced the entryway. “Chrissy, you should go home. Ma’s probably panicking thinking you got trampled or something.”
Christabella crossed her arms. The ball of light stayed floating beside her. “Ma is always panicking. She won’t miss me. Now spill.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me about you and Alexander’s engagement?” I countered.
She uncrossed her arms, her eyes widening. “How did you find out?”
“Your fiancé told me,” I said. “What were you thinking Chrissy? You’re only fifteen—”
“Sixteen!” Christabella interrupted. “A lot changed while you were gone, alright?”
I shook my head. “Listen, I’ll talk to you later. Edmund is injured and—”
“Who is Edmund?” she burst out.
I heaved a massive sigh. “He’s the human emissary here to visit Witch Village for two weeks, and he will be reporting his experiences to the King's Council who will then release his reports to the public; so, if for whatever reason, something terrible happens to him—such as the entire village falling into darkness and him twisting his ankle—it will reflect badly on the village and witches as a whole and who knows what will happen to us then!”
Christabella’s mouth fell open.
I took her shoulders and steered her back to the door. I hated driving her away like this, but I couldn’t risk Ma tracking her down and finding me. “Now get home safely and don’t tell Ma you saw me here.”
“But, Gigi! I just found you.” Christabella’s eyes grew glassy. With tears, if I wasn’t mistaken.
I sighed and gave her a hug. “We’ll meet again, I promise.”
Christabella wiped her eyes. “Alright.”
We both knew it was unlikely Ma would even let her out of the house in these conditions once she returned, but if Christabella had the guts to become secretly engaged to Alexander, she should have the guts to sneak out of the house at least once.
When my sister departed, taking her light with her, I fumbled my way up the stairs until I came to the short hallway outside Edmund’s room.
Alexander’s voice drifted out. “...may have to move you, sir. We aren’t equipped with antidotes or remedies here.”
I hurried in without knocking. “What? We can’t move him!”
The room was lit by a lantern on the bedside table.
Edmund was propped up with pillows, his legs stretched out on the mattress.
His right foot was at an odd angle. He managed to smile at me, but his face was pale.
“I’ll be fine, Giselle. Perhaps we can call for my physician, Mr. Thatcher.
He’s in Delibera. Shouldn’t be too far.”
Alexander shot me a skeptical look.
Maddox stood in the corner, looking utterly bewildered.
I sighed. “Do you feel pain or numbness?”
Edmund pulled up the leg of his trousers. His ankle was covered by his stockings, but I could tell it was swollen. “A bit of both,” he said.
“Then it’s most likely a fracture.” I thought back to what Grandma had used when Christabella had taken a tumble from the stairs.
It was a basic healing balm many herbwitches sold.
She had wrapped Christabella’s ankle tightly in bandages and reapplied the stuff every day.
It took about two or three days to fully heal. The other details were fuzzy.
“Alexander, do you have some healing balm?” I asked.
Alexander went to fetch it from the medicine cabinet downstairs as I cut some linen strips from scrap fabric, fashioning bandages. When it came time to see to Edmund’s ankle, Alexander shooed me away and claimed that he and Maddox could do the rest themselves.
“Maddox?” I said incredulously. “But he doesn’t know what he’s doing!”
“I’ve wrapped plenty of wounds when I was in the Royal Guard,” Maddox said, affronted. Then he shut the door in my face.
I had no option but to head back downstairs and busy myself with making tea. I boiled some water, found a tin of smoked tea leaves, and let them steep. When the tea was ready, Alexander and Maddox came downstairs.
“Well?” I asked.
“We’ve done the best we could,” Alexander said. “There’s not much healing balm left. We’ll have to get more, but...” He glanced outside. It was still pitch black.
“He’ll be fine,” Maddox said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like he got ran over by a carriage.”
I pushed past him and reentered Edmund’s room with the tray of tea things. Edmund looked a little less pale, but he kept shooting uneasy glances at his bandaged foot. It was wrapped relatively neatly, to my surprise. Perhaps Maddox was good for something after all.
“How does it feel?” I asked, setting the tray on Edmund’s bedside table.
“Better, thank you,” he said.
I poured him a cup of tea. It was strongly brewed with a smoky, earthy scent.
Edmund took it, but didn’t drink. “No milk or sugar?”
The only way to drink smoked tea was with water, but that opinion seemed to fall right out of my head when Edmund lifted his clear, earnest gaze to mine.
“I can find some if you want,” I said before I could stop myself.
He smiled. “That would be lovely.”
I fetched the milk and sugar.
“I completely understand if you want to go back home,” I said when I came back up, somewhat out of breath. I set the things on the tray with a clatter.
Edmund shoveled a teaspoon of sugar into his cup of tea and stirred it in. “I confess I do want to go home.”
I deflated. “Of course. I’m sorry this visit isn’t going as planned.” I took a seat on the stool before the desk. “I promise Witch Village isn’t always this chaotic.”
Edmund smiled again, his eyes turning into half-moons as the corners crinkled. “I believe you.”
Silence ensued as he tipped a bit of milk into his tea. The dark liquid grew cloudy as he stirred it in, his spoon clinking against the porcelain.
“You remind me of my grandmother,” I blurted out, hoping to strike up conversation again.
Edmund laughed, gesturing to himself surrounded by floral bedsheets. “Yes, all I need is white hair and a lacy bonnet.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean—you don’t look like her. Well, a little, when you smile. You’re very manly.” I pressed my hand to my mouth as Edmund watched in amusement. I only hoped he didn’t think I was a complete nut.
“What I mean is,” I began again, “she used to smile at me like that. Like she believed in me.”
“Then I’m honored to share a resemblance to her,” Edmund said, his eyes twinkling. He took a sip of the tea, then coughed it back into the cup, grimacing.
I rose from my seat. “Are you alright?”
He wiped his mouth and set the tea aside. “Yes, I’ll just...save that for later.”
“I suppose you’ll want to call for a carriage tomorrow,” I said. “Is there any way I can help with that?”
Edmund met my gaze again. I couldn’t help but hold my breath; he was unbearably handsome. “No. I’m not leaving.”
My heart inexplicably skipped a beat. “You’re not?”
He shook his head.
“But your ankle—”
“Is feeling better already. I gave my promise to the crown prince. I shall stay the two weeks and do my job. I am eager to experience more of Witch Village, Giselle. Hopefully, the non-chaotic side.”
I laughed. Thank heavens he was a good-natured man. “Very well. Rest easy. I’ll bring up a tray when it’s time for lunch.”
Edmund inclined his head. “I’m sure I shall have a speedy recovery.”