Chapter 19
Theo
After procuring the necessary herbs, Amaris had set to making the tonic.
It’d taken hours of measuring, boiling, and her frustrated grunts, but she’d finished the first couple of doses late last night.
Theo hadn’t been able to sleep until he’d known they had a tonic in hand for Esaias in the morning.
Gris had been the only person during the war who’d survived the disease, and she’d been delirious for most of the time.
Cornelius had healed her, but it’d taken weeks for her to fully recover.
Even with the tonic, it’d been a miracle that she’d survived, but it had worked once and would do the same for Esaias.
After the discussion with his father, he relinquished his investigation into Freville’s death and the other disappearances to Gris. As she’d taken it upon herself to examine the body in the first place, she was best suited for the task.
That left Theo to spend what time he could helping Amaris with the tonic. Unfortunately, bufomom hadn’t been on Pricilla’s list of herbs for Sephardi to track down on her supply run. Cornelius had once told Theo of a shop he frequented to procure rare herbs and other curious items.
He lifted his hand to knock on the washroom door to check on Amaris, but it swung open, and she wore a navy-blue dress hugging her every curve and flowing barely past her knees.
It left her legs bare with nothing to be imagined.
She’d even parted with her strange boots, exchanging them for a pair of silk slippers.
“Impatient, are we?” she huffed, inclining a brow.
Theo felt like he was sixteen again and about to fumble over his words at the slightest glance of a woman.
“Laundry day,” she added, noticing Theo’s eyes lingering on her dress.
She stepped past him and headed for the main staircase.
Theo shook the unnatural feeling of seeing her in anything other than her usual blouse and trousers.
Her hand slid down the banister as a hop overtook her steps.
She was lighter on her feet, bouncing instead of dragging her jingling boots behind her.
Perhaps she was hopeful the tonic would work, and she had a sparkle in her eye.
Theo had seen it last night as she stood scribbling in the journal and counting and weighing the herbs.
Cornelius had had a similar look about him when he dove into his work. Maybe she was no different.
If she could remain sure in the face of the frightening disease, then maybe Theo could too. He forced Esaias’s pale and sweaty face from his mind. Amaris had given Esaias the first dose of the tonic that morning, but Theo had been forced to hold his mouth shut after he’d attempted to spit it out.
“What’s this shop called?” Amaris asked.
“The Merry Sheridan.” Theo followed in step beside her as they descended the stairs leading to the city.
She paused before the wall surrounding the manor, staring up at the sentries posted for the day. Her swallow was audible, but they took no heed of her as Theo offered each of them a curt nod.
“Am I allowed—”
“As the mystique, it’s customary to see you milling through the city. If you weren’t, the people would think you were imaginary.”
“Oh.” She sighed and raked a hand though her hair. It’d started curling around her crown, and the ends had begun to form small ringlets, as if remembering a time where it’d once held voluminous tendrils.
Her home grew more perplexing as her story began to unravel, especially as her hair appeared to not have felt a salty breeze in years.
Her accent wasn’t of Godwin, but it wasn’t likely she came from an island in the Black Sea.
Asking where she was from had been on the tip of his tongue, along with further questioning her regarding her betrothed.
The small caress of her finger over her cheek when she’d spoken of him told more than she would ever reveal, and it heated Theo’s blood.
Their stroll drew them closer to the bustling streets of the city.
She gaped at the cobbled road and darted her gaze around at the towering buildings around them.
Her lips parted as her head whipped back and forth, eyeing the glass-windowed shops and the open windows above with families chattering.
Laundry lines were strung up, and blankets and garments flapped as a briny breeze swept in from the bay.
They pushed deeper through the beginnings of the city, and Amaris’s eyes grew larger with each step.
It was the look of someone who’d never set eyes on Luana Bay, and a part of Theo felt a certain elation to be the one to show her.
He’d always been proud to hail from here, not because of his birthright but because of the people.
Rounding the corner to pass through the open street market, she gasped at the crowd.
Tents of varying colors lined the cobbled street filled with vendor carts, some wobbly and sagging, while others were robust. The tenants swarmed the carts, their chatter catching Theo’s ear as they went about their daily shopping.
Amaris’s hand latched on to his arm. His eyes drifted to the white knuckles of her fingers digging into his forearm.
“Are you not accustomed to busy towns?” Theo hollered over the shouting and haggling of the street merchants.
The space between them tightened as she attempted to avoid getting swept up in the crowd. “No, I’ve been to busy cities, but when I first saw it…it isn’t at all what I thought it would be.”
“What did you picture it to be in the daytime?”
“I don’t know. Maybe less normal shopping and more…” It seemed she couldn’t even bring herself to express what she thought.
“Well, I can assure you that Luana Bay is as normal as it comes.”
The corners of her lips turned up, but Theo averted his face instead of returning a smile of his own.
Her fingers loosened their grip around his arm, but she still clung to his shirt as he dragged her through the crowd.
She watched with great intensity the business of the street vendors.
As they had doses for the next two days and weren’t in the greatest hurry, he allowed her to stop at several booths to see what they were selling.
She was continually astonished, like she’d never seen the vibrant life of a market either. Even her toes kept catching on the uneven cobblestones beneath their feet, as if unaccustomed to the everyday road structure. Some villages and towns, such as Westbury, were still supported with dirt roads.
What if she was betrothed to a Grant and had traveled from Westbury?
It was a different direction than Duncaster, but if she’d been running from him, he could’ve followed her.
Her haste could have sent her into the woods.
His father could protect her if she were being harmed.
No woman had ever come forward from Westbury, but they heard rumors of the ongoings behind closed doors.
They stopped at a painter’s booth after Amaris requested to see each piece of art.
Her eyes locked on a painting of the night sky, her fingers hovering over the stars, as if she were trying to make out the constellations.
Unfortunately, only Edgar’s Shield was depicted.
What could’ve been a beautiful sight was tainted with its focus on the God of War.
Amaris sighed as she moved to the next landscape canvas.
“Do you admire art?” Theo asked.
“I love it,” she admitted. “I used to draw but not much anymore.”
“How come?”
She gave Theo a thin smile, shrugging. “Life got in the way.” She perked up at the lively cadence of a fiddle. “Is that music?”
A small band was set up outside The Merry Sheridan, bustling a Gorrin tune.
She tapped her foot and held her arms. Something attempted to break through her grim mask.
The lines around her eyes creased, and a single dimple poked into her cheek.
Not long ago, Theo thought he’d never see anyone with a look like that ever again, a genuine smile.
Something dropped in his chest, and he rubbed at his sternum as he took shelter beneath the canopy of the shop.
It was heavy and began wrapping around him.
It was similar to the moment in the throne room.
For so long, he’d been feeling nothing besides the hilt of his dagger in his palm or the anger constantly skimming the surface of his skin.
He took a deep breath, attempting to push whatever it was away.
He forced several deep breaths as he focused his eyes on Amaris clapping and humming along.
With each next beat, it slowly receded. When the song finished and his chest felt as normal as it could be, he gestured with a nod to the shop door.
Amaris headed in first, sending a chime to ring through the room as the door swung open.
“Feel free to look around. I’ll be with you in a moment.” A woman’s voice carried as a distant echo.
Amaris paused beside the front counter, gawking at the wall of herbs, the antiques displayed in glass cases, and the other oddities. She assessed her surroundings and stepped deeper into the shop.
Theo rubbed at his chest as he turned to a glass case with a small replica of a ship floating over a stormy sea.
Its sails were black, and a serpent protruded from the bow with a forked tongue.
He’d read about the pirate ship once called the Serpent.
It was a deadly vessel, leaving no survivors, and had been rumored to sail as the flagship of the Pirate Queen’s armada.
Theo settled his hand over his mouth as he read the label.
Epchatet. Bimpa monom per ditsa wafshom. Aslorn per de eclahard.
His eyes widened as he read it again. The Serpent. A deadly ship for a disastrous captain. Brace for her what?
Theo pulled away before more confusion settled over him. Amaris had moved to the back of the shop, and she stood with her lips parted as she admired a black crystal chandelier with dozens of candles glowing above her head.