Chapter Thirteen
It has been three weeks since our trip to the Whispering Woods.
Draven still looks at me with concern some days, but I ignore it. I would much rather act like it never happened. My go-to coping mechanism.
The only way I ever truly know it did happen is because of the scar left on my palm as evidence.
The past three weeks have been mostly spent with Draven.
At some point in our time together we created an unspoken routine with one another.
A schedule we both follow religiously, no need to confirm each other’s attendance.
A form of comfort between the both of us, always knowing what the day will bring.
Each day is the same. Draven sends word for training either in the morning or afternoon, based on his own schedule as prince. Then we work on the case at night.
The days of training have gotten increasingly difficult. Almost like that night in the woods sent him into a spiral. He added hand-to-hand combat into our training, surely due to my inability to protect myself.
When we are not doing that, we train for hours on sword work.
I am at the point where I can comfortably spar with him.
The sword he had made for me becoming lighter and lighter each day.
I have memorized his every move down to the direction he moves his feet before he strikes.
Some days I even make him drop his sword.
He stares at me the most those days.
In the evenings, we go through the incantor files that remain. Some nights while working on the case, we fall asleep in the study. I usually wake up sprawled out on the couch with Draven asleep on the floor beside me.
There have been no further disappearances. The knowledge of that draws me to the edge of panic, ready to tip over the side. The incantor’s words in the forest haunt me day after day.
You’re next, he said.
Although it took some time, Draven followed through on his promise of getting me working with the castle healer. That is what I am getting ready to do this morning, before meeting Draven in the arena afterwards.
I also made sure that Draven followed through on his promise to the sweet lady in the woods. He confirmed a few days ago that she received her first delivery.
After getting ready for the day, I walk over to my closet and pull out a pale blue cotton sundress with a square neckline and puff sleeves trimmed with lace detailing.
The dress is far from scrubs, but I am not going to complain.
I leave my hair down in soft waves and put some red tint on my cheeks and lips.
I study my reflection in the mirror.
My skin is smooth and glowing, all expressions lines faded as if I am a teenager again. Youth has been brought back to my features after so many years of stress. My hair is almost past my waist, needing frequent trims to maintain the length.
I have grown comfortable with my body. As comfortable as I am going to be at least. Muscle now defines my arms and legs, my stomach showing some definition.
I roll my eyes at the fact of it. All of those years I would go to the gym at home and never see any progress. Apparently, I just needed to be turned into a vampire.
I step out of the mirror, glancing at Ivorie’s bedroom door. This is the first morning in three weeks that Ivorie and I have not eaten breakfast and gone on a walk together. She has to leave the castle more and more frequently these days.
I sigh, slipping on some brown flats and making my way out of my room.
Now when I walk anywhere, I walk with paranoia in my step.
The incantor’s words following me everywhere I go.
I cannot help but constantly look behind me to see if anyone is lurking.
Sometimes, I turn around when I hear a noise and see that it is just a castle worker.
They stare at me in confusion while I look at them with fear.
As I reach the door of the healer’s wing, I stop before turning the handle.
I am nervous, I will admit. I do not know the first thing about healing in this world. Longing washes over me for just one small word of encouragement from Draven before I walk in. It seems he always knows what to say. But he is not here, so it is time for me to start encouraging myself.
I lightly knock and an airy voice answers in return.
“Come in.”
I reach down and turn the handle, pushing the door open and stepping in as my gaze drifts across the room.
The healer’s wing is huge. It is a fully lit room, with lots of open flames burning, as the scent of mint and sage sits in the air.
When you walk in to the left, there is a row of ten cots.
All of them are empty. A table which I assume is for examinations, sits straight ahead.
To the right there are shelves spread across the wall lined with various books and rows of jars.
Tucked in the corner is a large desk holding papers that are spread in every direction and a lamp lighting the surface.
The woman sitting at the desk is tall. Even though she is sitting, I believe she might even be taller than Draven.
She has glasses sitting on the tip of her nose and she is reading a paper that she has held out in front of her.
Her skin is a deep brown and similar in color to her straight, long hair.
She glances up at me as I am standing there staring.
Her eyes are as blue as crystal clear water.
A similar shade to the king’s eyes, but hers are more welcoming.
I clear my throat. “Hello, my name is Solene.”
She stands up and walks over to me, moving like she is floating. Her white linen dress is lined with a light brown apron tied around her waist. There are various stains smudged across the front of it.
When she reaches me, I have to tip my head back to look at her.
Yes, she is much taller than Draven.
“Hi, Solene, my name is Elora.”
She holds out her hand for me to shake, and I oblige.
“I have heard much about you from Draven. I am so glad you would like to join me. I do need some help around here. Ivorie comes up frequently to help out, but she has other duties as well.”
“Ivorie is my lady’s maid,” I say.
She smiles. “Yes, I have heard much about you from her as well. Please come sit.”
We walk over to her desk and I sit in the chair across from her.
She clears the papers off the surface, putting them into a stack in the corner before she turns around in her chair.
She grabs cups from the table behind her and pours us tea to drink, pushing a cup my way.
I grab it and take a sip, mint hitting my taste buds.
“So, Draven says you are a nurse in the human world.”
I nod. “Yes. Well, I was.”
“Nonsense, you still are. You probably have much to teach me yourself.”
I give her a genuine smile, her words bringing me comfort.
“I figured today, since there are no patients, we could spend our time going over the various herbs and flowers that I use for healing and treatment.” She points at the bookshelves filled with jars.
“I would like that,” I say.
We spend the next few hours going through the different treatments. I stop a few minutes in, asking for a sheet of paper and a pen so I can take notes.
She talks about some herbs and flowers I am already familiar with.
Lavender for sleep, lemon balm for anxiety, ginger for nausea.
Then we move on to plants I have never heard of, moonroot salve for pain, wolves’ breath for severe stomach aches, larkleaf for bleeding.
She also talks about noxthorn. I leave out the fact that I have recently used it.
Elora also tells me some patient stories, some good, some bad. I tell her some in exchange. A tender familiarity roots deep into my chest once again.
I glance up at the clock, seeing that it is time for me to meet Draven, so I grab my notes and tuck it into the folder she gave me.
“Thank you for your time today. Is it okay if I come back tomorrow?” I ask.
“Of course, please do. Maybe we will have a patient then.”
I nod and stand up, straightening out my dress. She stands and comes around the desk, leading the way to the door. We say our good-byes and I slip out into the hall.
Once I am sure the door is closed and she has walked away, I break out into a full sprint. I reach down and slip my shoes off so I can run faster.
It’s not just time for me to meet Draven, it is past time.
Thankfully, I do not pass anyone in the hall while I am running.
As soon as I reach my room, I slip my dress off and pull on my training leathers and boots. I reach for a hair tie on the nightstand, deciding to put it up when I get to the arena.
My bedroom door slams behind me as I continue my sprint.
When I arrive, I lean against the wall to catch my breath. I need to look cool, calm, and collected, not like I just ran here to avoid being even more late.
When my breathing finally evens out, I push open the doors and step inside.
Draven is standing in the middle of the mat, his hair neatly styled, but he is not wearing his training clothes.
Instead, he is dressed in black dress pants and a white button-up.
His shirt is buttoned down, showing his chest. The shirt is wrinkled and untucked, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Leather boots peek out from under his pants.
He must have lost track of time like me.
“Lost, track of time in the healers wing?” he asks.
I pause, turning my head.
“How did you know that is where I was at?”
He points to his ears. “I am everywhere, remember?”
Ah, his sneaky shadows have been spying on me.
As I get closer to him, I notice that his irises are red.
I immediately stop. “Are you okay?”
“I am fine,” he says, his voice sharp.
I ignore the sting of hurt I feel from his tone.
“It doesn’t seem like you are fine. Did something happen?”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “Nothing happened. Grab your sword and let’s start.”