Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 9.2 - Aster

Dedicated to Pup for writing an adorable little angst bby.

 The hard set in her face breaks away to reveal a pleased smile, and warmth buzzes in my chest. Then I turn and resume walking, guilt pinging in my mind. If she's my page, then I'll be seeing her every day to pass and receive messages. Which is the exact opposite of only making sure she's okay and then avoiding her.

At the same time—Leavi's here. She's here, and she's willing to fill a role I need filled. And it would be nice to finally have someone on my side.

Guilt creeps in at the thought. I'm not on an opposing team from my siblings or wizards.

We push into the infirmary. Shelves full of tinctures line one wall, bookshelves fill the other, and a counter divides the space between. Over a small fireplace on the left wall hangs a boiling pot, and nearby is a round table I've sat at too many times to count. To my right is a much larger examination table. The skin on my back prickles; I've sat there too many times too. Three doors lead out—sick bays to either side and the physician's apartment up a flight of stairs. A cot in the corner tells me he's not been sleeping up there, though.

Illesiarr stands at the counter, mixing some sort of thick green paste. He looks up. "Prince Aster!" Leaving the mixing stick in the jar, he comes toward us and takes my shoulders. "I heard rumors that you had finally returned. I'm glad you made it back safely."

The old man's hands and voice are warm, and I smile. "I'm glad I'm back too."

He releases me, turning to Leavi. "And who is this?"

"Maedimoielle Leavi Riveaux. She's a refugee from the city." I feel bad for forgetting to warn Leavi that we would need to change her name. Riveirre is obviously foreign, but without that tip-off, people don't tend to think things are something other than what they expect them to be. Get her out of the peasant's trousers, and soon, no one will look at her twice.

"Ah, of course." He offers her a warm smile before turning back to his work. As he goes, facing away from her, he flashes me a questioning look.

"Do you mind if she goes upstairs for a moment while we catch up?"

Leavi glances at me, but he says, "That sounds fine. Elénna!"

"Coming, sir!" his apprentice calls from one of the back rooms. A moment later, she pops into the room, sand-colored hair starting to flop out of her bun. "Yes, Illesiarr?"

"Take Maedimoielle Riveaux upstairs and put on some tea."

"Yes, sir." She smiles at Leavi, and after one last glance at me, they go up.

Illesiarr clears his throat, drawing my attention away from the stairs. I turn toward him, trying not to look guilty and not quite sure why that's my instinct.

He watches me, one eyebrow lifted.

"It's good to be home, Illesiarr."

"I'm relieved you are. When I heard that the Kadranians were sweeping through and had already marched across Draó, I was... very worried," he settles on.