Chapter 17 A Quest #2
Gladys murmured a sound that might have been agreement, but there was a tension radiating off her that Luci was not eager to explore.
How long was she planning on staying with her?
Part of the peace of the infirmary was the solitude.
Noah was good about letting her work, and he was usually engrossed in his own projects.
“Do you like it here, Luci?” Gladys asked.
Passing servants bowed their heads to her as they walked, and the princess was quick to offer them a kind word and a smile. It was easy to see why she was beloved by the people. She was kind, much like Brielle, and that was a rarity in the world.
“I like working in the infirmary, and I like that Brielle is happy,” Luci answered.
Maybe she should have lied. It probably would have been wiser, but something told her that Gladys would have seen through it.
“You think she’s happy?” she asked.
“I’ve never seen her so content,” Luci said.
Since last night, the truth of that hurt a little less. Brielle was at home regardless of where they were. If they never went back to Blythe, Luci would make this place her resting place. All that mattered was that she was beside her best friend.
“I know the way their courtship began was unconventional and that it is a trial of sorts, but it seems, though she and Ira are friendly, she is more of a blushing bride with Lucien,” Gladys said.
Luci’s heart stuttered in her chest. Of course, she wasn’t the only one to notice.
However, this was dangerous territory. Being immersed in her own work, this was the first time Luci witnessed Brielle’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
Lucien of all people, but then what was to be of her and the prince she agreed to marry?
What Luci needed was to snatch Brielle away and ask her exactly what she was thinking.
“I hadn’t noticed.” Luci lied.
Gladys shot her a long look, head tilted to the side like Luci was a puzzle of sorts.
“You know, Ira has never been very possessive, but I don’t think he cares in the least that Lucien is falling at her feet. Isn’t that odd?”
If there was one thing Lucinda Blackthorn knew, it was that commenting on any of this was a recipe for disaster. While she agreed with everything the princess was saying, she was not prepared to say it out loud.
“I suppose if everyone is happy, then that’s good.” Luci ventured.
“Is it?” Gladys countered.
Goodness, let this conversation end. If there truly was a fairy godmother out there, perhaps she could take a moment to rescue Luci from this encounter.
“Your highness!”
Apparently, fairy godmothers had a sense of humor.
Gladys’ face fell for only a second before she plastered a wide smile onto her face that most certainly did not reach her eyes. Interesting.
“Lady Annabeth.” She said. “What a surprise.”
If Lucien Vencia was reformed, the lady of Dorden certainly wasn’t. She took one glance at Luci and dismissed her entirely, not even bothering to greet her. Instead, she blinked her dark blue eyes at Gladys and dipped into a slight curtsy.
“Don’t be silly. Of course, Father and I couldn’t turn down such a generous invitation to tonight’s gathering,” she said.
Though the words were plenty nice, her tight-lipped smile was a testament to her feelings on being passed over for the future queen.
“Of course,” Gladys said. “Have you met Lucinda Blackthorn yet? She is Brielle Treveon’s friend.”
If Prince Ira’s happiness was permanently evident on his face, Annabeth’s too-tight cheeks and squinted eyes were damning evidence of her perpetual unhappiness. She ran her gaze up and down Luci, and a more wanting creature was never seen before as much as Luci was in that moment.
“Oh yes, her servant she takes everywhere with her,” Annabeth said.
“Well– “ Gladys began.
“I am very fortunate to serve Lady Brielle. She is as kind as she is beautiful.” Luci said.
This woman didn’t deserve a courteous greeting. After all, she was just as terrible as she was the first time Luci met her.
Annabeth shifted on her feet, noticing the slight.
“I imagine now that she is set to be queen, she will have to learn to do without you.”
Goodness, it must have hurt to bite out those words, given how hard she vied for Prince Ira’s hand. If there was any satisfaction in Brielle’s engagement, it was this.
“I will serve her as long as she asks me to. How are you adjusting to the disappointment at being passed over by the Prince? I’ve heard it was quite a hard blow.” Luci asked sweetly.
Gladys coughed beside her, covering her mouth with her hand, but Luci’s attention was all for Annabeth, whose cheeks were as red as a turnip, and her plump mouth opened and closed several times as her mind fought to catch up to the slight.
Luci ever endeavored to be helpful, so she made a show of gasping and placing her hand over her mouth.
“Oh dear, was that impolite. You’ll have to forgive me, after all, I’m just a servant.” Luci said.
Smoothing out her dress, Annabeth cleared her throat.
“Yes, well, Brielle would do to educate you if she insists on keeping you on,” she said.
Luci smiled and dipped her head to Gladys.
“How right you are. I’ll leave you both to consider the ramifications of my ineptitudes. Good day, your highness.”
She was not above using terrible people as a means of escape.
Only a small trace of guilt followed her down the hall at abandoning the princess to the displeasure of Annabeth’s company.
Judging from the way she grew guarded at Annabeth’s approach, it was probably safe to say Gladys didn’t care for her.
It endeared the princess just a little bit more.
The infirmary was like the first breath of air after being underwater.
Noah had the door propped open, and immediately the smell of herbs and florals wrapped around Luci as if happy to see her.
The feeling was certainly mutual. Herbs and florals didn’t ask uncomfortable questions and made her question what she knew.
Several brews were already starting while Noah sat at the far corner flipping the pages of a thick leather-bound book.
Luci smiled while she watched him work, but there was no indication that he was aware of the world around him.
Over the past few days, Luci found herself wishing she could borrow his mind for just a minute.
The way he saw the potential in every ingredient was intoxicating.
“Intermittent fevers, rashes, swollen, aching joints. It feels similar to rheumatism, but more severe,” he murmured.
Luci stilled. Those symptoms.
“It’s just a rash on the face– not her whole body,” Luci said, swallowing back her unease.
If there was anyone she was going to trust with this, it would be Noah.
Jumping slightly, Noah turned and placed a hand over his heart, breathing in a deep breath.
“You scared me,” he said with a small smile.
If she could have managed a smile, she would have given it back to him, but instead her heart beat a little too fast. If there was one rule in the Treveon household, it was that no one spoke of Brielle’s illness. Sickness was weakness as far as Lord Treveon was concerned.
Which meant if Noah was listing those symptoms, there was only one person who could have told him what they were.
It stung a little more than Luci would have liked.
Almost a breach of trust, but how could she blame Brielle for seeking help?
All Luci ever managed to do was treat the symptoms. Maybe Noah was the answer to how to prevent or even cure them.
“She sometimes can’t tolerate sunlight either, and it makes the rash worse. Her most common symptom is fatigue. It sometimes takes her out for days at a time.” Luci confessed.
Noah nodded, pressing a finger to his lip, cataloguing all the data.
“And her mother suffered similarly,” he said.
“Yes,” Luci whispered. “She died of one of the fevers. I don’t know much more than that because Lord Treveon forbade anyone to speak of it.”
Noah shook his head and ran his hand through his sandy brown hair.
“That is a mistake. Knowledge concealed is knowledge lost,” he said.
Luci came up beside him and scanned the pages of the open book. The parchment was worn, with tan pages stained brown from time. At the top in artful penmanship was the word rheumatism.
“It’s over a hundred years old from one of the previous Masters. I thought maybe it could be something old, given the way it seems generational,” he explained.
“And?” Luci asked, fighting to swallow.
Noah sighed, shoulders falling. “The closest illness is rheumatism, but that doesn’t account for all or even the severity of symptoms.”
No, it did not. Noah was incredibly talented, and his knowledge base was enviable, but Luci had spent most of her life researching known illnesses in search of a cure.
“She’s been well since we came to the castle. She still takes the orange extract elixir I make for her, but she hasn’t required anything else.” Luci confessed.
“Why do you think that is?” Noah said.
That was a question Luci was not prepared to answer out loud. Happiness. Freedom. Love.
Noah reached out and lifted her chin with his index finger, a knowing in his soft brown eyes.
“Think like a healer, not as family,” he said.
Right. Separating emotion meant improving clarity. The more objective the better the data.
“It’s spring. The weather is warmer,” she said.
His answering smile stretched out the scar over his eye, and there was no denying he was handsome. So why didn’t her heart skip as it did with—.
“Winter is always worse for her,” Luci said quickly.
“Any other triggers?” he asked.
Luci nodded. “Stress.”
Leaning forward, Noah carefully scrawled in his own book, and it was hard to refrain from taking it from him.
For so long, Lord Treveon said that if anyone found out about Brielle’s illness, she would be ruined.
Yet, watching Noah write and seeing his mind work, she thought maybe lord Treveon was wrong.
What if this meant they finally found answers?
“What have you tried in the past?” he asked.
Her body filled with the kind of warmth that came when the world was new, and spring broke through winter’s clutch. Hope.
This was hope.