CHAPTER 71
Almost done here,” Esmee said, brushing a curly lock from her forehead. “Just the powders to get in order.” The cupboards of Madame Chastain’s workshop were flung open as the witches searched for necessary supplies.
Olivia wedged another bottle into the box of potions she was packing. “All labeled, but I’ll go over these with the sorcerers, just to be sure.”
Dahlia rubbed her temple, trying to ease the tension pulsing there.
Besides a handful of palace sorcerers, they had recruited twelve healers from the city to attend wounds—and there would be wounds.
Her face pinched as she packed another box, bottles rattling.
First Officer? Has he lost his mind? And Tyghan!
How could he even allow this? And without consulting her. She was the High Witch, dammit!
Every potion she packed made her head hurt worse.
Potions for bites! Claws! Bloody slashes!
Suffocating spells! Potions to bring you back from the brink of death!
The bottles clanked and rattled as she arranged them.
Why was Eris doing this? To get back at her?
All because of a few words? He had no business carrying a sword, now of all times.
His powers were better suited elsewhere, like supporting her, Esmee, and Olivia.
She grabbed another box and moved on to bandages. All this for a few flowery words? It was nonsense. But—
It mattered to him. She had never seen him look so angry. At least not at her.
Why couldn’t she say it? Why was it so hard?
“Dahlia?” Esmee said, her brows squiggled in a question mark. “I can finish that for you?”
Dahlia looked down. She was stuffing the bandages in a disorderly fashion—and Dahlia liked order. She quickly began re-sorting them. “I’ve got it,” she replied, unhappy that she had let Eris invade her thoughts so completely. If he hadn’t made this foolish decision—
But he had. He was done with her, and she with him. So be it. He hadn’t fought in battle in thirty years, and now he was going to go off and get himself killed.
She stilled, her hands sinking into the bandages.
What if he does die? What if he dies over all this nonsense?
She tried to force her attention back on her work, but instead she heard Eris’s last words before he walked out. I won’t keep paying for the sins of your past lovers.
It wasn’t that simple. Dahlia thought about Daiedes and all the lovers who came before him.
Those wasted years. Until Dahlia came along, Eris had only had two lovers in his whole life—his wife and the queen, both good, loving relationships.
But Dahlia had squandered her love on countless people who didn’t love her back.
Lovers who cheated, lied, and made a fool of her.
She was incredibly good at making bad choices.
Daiedes was her third husband, and he had especially broken her, being the greatest cheat of them all, carrying on behind her back, but in front of others.
Of course she was cautious with her heart.
After eight years, maybe I am not the right man for you.
She pressed two fingers to her brow, Eris’s voice impossible to shake. “You have a headache, Dahlia?” Olivia asked. “I can pull some of those tense energies for you?”
Dahlia shook her head. “No, it’s fine now.”
“It’s a wonder we don’t all have pounding heads,” Esmee said as she latched her box.
“We’re packing enough supplies to treat every knight in Danu.
We can only pray to the gods that we don’t need it.
” She sighed, eyeing the other two. “I hear the city is emptied out, everyone packing up for less obvious targets. It’s all becoming very real, isn’t it? ”
Dahlia’s breath pooled in her chest.
Olivia shook her head. “Very real. The supply teams are leaving tonight from the garrison,” she said. “I guess we’re getting these loaded just in time.”
“Yes,” Dahlia agreed, “just in time.” She fumbled with the bandages she was loading. They seemed to unravel in her hands no matter what she did.
Eris’s voice broke in again, destroying her focus. Whatever you’re holding on to, it’s time to let it go.
Dahlia slid the box in front of Olivia. “Finish loading this one for me. I have some unfinished business to take care of.”