As a Sword in My Bones

Chapter 3

Lucas Medellin slipped into his father's medicalchamber beside the queen's bedchambers, closed the door behind him,and leaned against the door. He rubbed his hands over his face andthrough his hair, thankful to escape the clamoring courtiers andservants. He hated the intrigues and imagined illnesses of thepalace. His real passion was for the charity work he did in the city.

The previous night, once he had finished workingwith his father, he had gone to the worst part of town as he oftendid. A desperate mother had begged for his help with her small son.The little boy had tried to climb the family's market stall and hadfallen, breaking his arm. It had been a simple break, easy to set,but the relief and gratitude in the mother's eyes stood out in hismind. How he wished he were there now. At least there the gratitudewas real, and evil was recognized for what it was. He compared thatmemory with disgust to that of the beautiful courtier who had justtried to entice him when he went to check on her feigned illness.Ever since Tristan had left, Lucas awaited his daily visits to thepalace with dread. However, as his father's apprentice, he stillhad a few more months before he would be free to do as he pleased.

Dr. Gaius Medellin's tiny medical chamber wasattached to the queen's personal quarters. There was little roomfor both Lucas and his father to work together in the cramped space.A intricately engraved door separated them from the queen'sbedchambers. The wall to his left was lined with a long table formixing medicines below a row of cabinets full of flasks and boxescontaining herbs, minerals, and other things his father had collectedfrom renowned physicians and apothecaries the world over. Steppingaway from the door, he went to the table his father used to preparehis medicines. Each night he was tasked with setting out the vialshis father would need to mix the queen's sleeping draught. Hisfather, the queen's personal physician, was the only one allowed toactually mix the medicine, but Lucas had been setting out the vialsfor three months now.

One by one he took down the vials, pausing only tolook at the vial of Passion Flower Extract his father purchased fromsome Spanish Missionaries returning from the Americas. It was themost potent ingredient in the elixir, only a few drops were needed tohelp the queen sleep through the night, more than that and she wouldnever awaken.

Lucas's brown eyes scanned the row of vials hehad set out on the tabletop, double-checking to be certain he had allof them. He knew all the correct proportions, but the queen fearedpoison more than anything. The only person she seemed to trust washis father.

The sound of the door opening behind him causedhim to turn. His father stepped in and closed the door to the hall.

"You did well today, Lucas," Dr. GaiusMedellin said, laying an appreciative hand on his son's shoulder.

A smile brightened Lucas's face as he looked downat the shorter man. Compliments from his father were rare, especiallyover the last year. "I really do appreciate the training, Father."

He was not as thankful, however, for the necessityof spending everyday at the palace. The queen seemed to take aperverse pleasure in all things evil, often feeling no need to hideher actions from him or his father. His disgust over her wickednesshad caused no little tension between him and his father. Lucas turnedhis attention back to the vials. Anytime they talked about theirmedical work, it ended in a fight. He was not in the mood for anothertonight.

His father looked at him as if determining ifLucas truly was grateful. Deciding in his son's favor, he relaxedand said, "I know you do, son."

"Dr. Medellin, are you in there?" the queen'smusical voice called from her quarters. "Come here, please."

Dr. Medellin turned in the cramped chamber andpushed the door open. Lucas followed close behind.

The ornate decor of the room contrasted sharply tothe functional medical chamber they left behind. Queen Brigittelounged on a chaise. Her knee-length, ebony hair was braided with agold ribbon and she wore a shimmering gold dress. Even at nearlyfifty, she still possessed a stunning beauty that brought even muchyounger men to their knees. Lucas had ceased to be impressed manyyears ago. The first week he had come to the palace with his father,he had witnessed her slit the throat of a messenger who had broughther upsetting news. He and his father had been forced to clean up themess before anyone else came into the room. Lucas shuddered as hepushed the graphic memory out of his mind. Was it any wonder he hatedcoming to the palace?