“Fine.” I growl, not feeling overly hospitable, but I see no way around it. I need to bide my time. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Alesta’s stern expression melts away as she scurries across the room in a rustle of silk. She presses a hand against a hidden wall panel and removes a small vial from the lower shelf. There are many vials within. Some glowing a bright flame-orange, others black and murky. The vial she selects is a calming aqua. “Here. This should help with the headache.”
“I never said I have one.” The small glass bottle has a black cork on top. I raise the vial and shake it. It bubbles slightly but settles back into its clear state.
“Human’s don’t travel well the first time.” She watches expectantly as I remove the stopper. I glance at her, praying it is right to trust her. What reason would Drakon have to harm me now that he is about to get exactly what he wants? I down the medicine. It feels like ice upon my throat. “You will feel the effects rather quickly.”
A strange fluid sensation flows over my body, reaching from toes to ears with amazing speed. Even as the pounding in my head begins to fade, I realize the stiffness in my neck and back begins to ease. The tender flesh about my waist, leftover from my initial hike with Eamon, heals over. I press my hand to my stomach and realize the pain is gone, as is the soreness in my calves and blisters upon my feet.
Alesta shoots me a knowing smile as she motions for me to follow her into the bathroom. “This stuff is amazing.”
“It should be. It’s my special recipe.”
“You made this?” I glance back to the wall at all of the multi-colored vials. “And those too?”
“Yes. My mother was a healer. She taught me how to use nature to find the same essence in flowers and plants when I failed to inherit her gift. I may not be a normal healer, but I do all right on my own.”
“So you’re an herbalist?” My thoughts drift to my best friend Aminah and her skill for making salves and tinctures from the forest. She would probably have much to discuss with Alesta if she were here.
The girl frowns. “I don’t think I know this word.”
“It’s pretty much the same… Oh, never mind. It doesn’t really matter.”
Alesta drops her head. “Yes, my lady.”
“Okay.” I place my hands on her arms and wait for her to look up at me. “We need to set some ground rules here. First off, as nice as you seem to be, I don’t need a servant. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself. And secondly, don’t call me a lady. I’m not royalty.”
Alesta looks stricken. “But you are to be our queen. Please don’t send me away. The king handpicked me for you. If I fail…” She begins to tremble.
How did I get myself into this? I inwardly groan.
“If I ask something of you, will you do it?”
“Of course.” She looks back at me with a hesitant smile, no doubt remembering how I tricked her before. “I can’t do anything against my king’s wishes, though,” she quickly adds.
“Fair enough. I forbid you to call me by any name other than Illyria. No bowing. No rushing to get everything for me. Just be here when I do need you, okay?”
I watch as she struggles to hold back her shock. Her lips press into a colorless line, heat stains her cheeks into a pretty rose color, but she nods.
“Thank you. Now”—I look at the basin before me—“I would like to wash myself, if that is all right.”
I can tell it isn’t, but Alesta concedes. “I’ll remain out here to prepare your outfit.”
“Fine.” I press the button on the door and breathe a sigh of relief as it seals her out. I cling to the sink, my knuckles white as I tremble. Bastien has been hurt and I’m stuck here playing dress-up with this girl. What is wrong with me?
As I stare at myself in the mirror, noticing the circles beneath my eyes and the lifeless color within their depths, I realize I only have one option: to play along. Drakon will be suspicious, of course, and that is good. Let him worry.
Dipping a cloth into the steaming water, I rub a layer of grime from my brow. Slowly, I wash all of me, taking the time to inspect my newly healed injuries. No marks. No redness. It is if I had healed myself.
A small knock on the door reminds me that I’m running low on time. The door hisses as it opens. I snatch up the sheet from the floor to cover myself, but when she laughs, I realize how foolish I must look. “I’m not used to other people… you know, being here when I’m not dressed.”
“It is perfectly understandable,” she soothes as she motions for me to stand in the middle of the room with my arms stretched over my head. I hesitate, gritting my teeth as I hand her the sheet.