If any of this belongs to you all, I suggest taking it up now, as it likely won’t be here when you get back. The maid would simply nod with understanding as even the finer side of the streets were prone to petty theft. Thankfully despite the circumstances, all that Ianthe and the maid carried with them was the very clothes on their backs. There hadn’t been enough time to take anything with sentimental value without the risk of getting caught within the crossfire. Jocelyn merely kept Ianthe’s coat tucked within her arms while Ianthe merely melted in Farrons arms, undisturbed. An apologetic chuckle left her, as the maiden was far more exhausted than she had let on earlier to not stir when retrieved from the comforts of the claimed corner.
Instead, they were met with incoherent mumbling fell from pale lips. Something to do with not telling her mother and it caused a light uncomfortable twist in the maid’s stomach. Biting the inside of her cheek, did the elder soon follow after Farron but not without leaving a generous coin to the innkeeper both in apology and for the last-minute occupancy. I’m not going to pry, but is there a chance your trouble may follow you? The maid was quiet for a moment then. Her frail aged hands gripping a tightening hold of her employers coat debating on whether or not to share the risks. He shared with her a known physician, one who could potentially look the other way, or keep secrets away from prying ears.
It was only fair, she concluded finally as he was already going out of his way, within a thunderstorm no less – there was no point of keeping things vague and Ianthe was asleep to disregard the notion. “Her mother… was not the kindest woman.” even she hesitated to voice such words as if the walls themselves possessed links to the womans grave. “If it were not for her brothers and father occasionally, the young miss would’ve remained locked in her room like a doll on display.” She sighed. “She was nearly forced into a rather unsavory marriage with an ogre of a man three times her age per her mother’s demands promising the wealth to this potential family until the twins got involved.” The maid was quick to swallow back the well of emotion that threatened her voice as she glanced to the sleeping maiden. The cruelty and greed of the woman was masked far too well for not even their father knew of the very beatings and lashings had been given. Vivianna did well to ensure any scars or bruises she caused upon her own daughter remain hidden beneath clothes.
“I cannot deny the fact that there is a rather strong possibility that trouble may brew again sir.” she relented finally. “But it should not find its way to you, sir. It just seems unfair to leave you in the dark.” The maid took it upon herself to reach for the door as her hands were far more freed than his own occupied ones. She then sought for another small satchel nearly filled with coin.; “Will this be enough to cover the expenses?”
He couldn't quite claim surprise as the woman melted within his grasp, the full dead weight of her bodice reconciled within his arms. He also wasn't foolish enough to believe the painfully obvious avoidance of the other patrons that surrounded the bar. It was of no surprise that several peripherals found them after they had passed, and his inquiry was in the good faith that, given the chance, those who would know of the circumstances he was otherwise ignorant of would weave any information they could for a quick shimmer of coin. Currency and threats were the best motivation for such intel here, a feat he knew all too well from his days with Huian. The feline was able to easily ply details from previously unwilling lips. Locations, what they wore, where they had gone, hells even their last meal.
He didn't want to be caught with his guard down should such a thing transpire tonight either. He would listen to the elderly woman weave the tale - enough that he knew enough. Such ugly business was often common among those of higher births, or so he had gathered. In his homeland, such betrothals had never been heard of. While their lives were often swift to end due to the dangers that they immersed themselves within to remain distant from the rest of the continent's life, they were never impressed upon or instructed who to love or who to wed. It wasn't until long after he had left the jungles that he had even heard of such a notion, though maybe it would have done well to better unite the scattered tribes of his people, it just wasn't a core within their beliefs or practices. If they had bonded together through matrimony and settled within bigger colonies, would the tragedy that had over taken them like a tsunami have so easily transpired? Would they have been better suited to defend themselves against the lycans?
He would merely push the thoughts aside shortly after they wandered within his cerebrum. Dismissing the what ifs, because that's all they were. In the end, it would do no good what so ever to dwell upon the poisons of the past. It was a lesson he hoped would come swiftly to this pair as well, to ease the budding well of emotion he could hear within the maid's vocals as she wove the tapestry of their fates. He would merely nod, a gentle dismissal and silent bid that she need not continue. Greed ever was the harshest vice and many more sins flourished from its rotting roots. “I cannot deny the fact that there is a rather strong possibility that trouble may brew again sir.” Long ear would twitch as the woman opened the door before him, allowing him and the woman's employer into the room. They were meagerly furnished, modest and straight forward as not many passerby lingered more than just over night here. The stone crafted hearth lay against the far wall, a small table and a pair of chairs lingered just before the door. The wood was lacking varnish, from age or simple lack -there-of unknown. The make was reflected upon the simple bed frame, night stand and floor itself. Though the plank paneling under foot was worn much smoother than that of the other furniture with age and use.
Upon the mattress, he would settle the dame. “But it should not find its way to you, sir. It just seems unfair to leave you in the dark.” Straightening, he would turn towards Jenny once more, his arms crossing loosely over the breadth of his chest. "Don't worry about trouble finding me," he would assure, far from a stranger of the concept. After all, running with Huian's breed was naught but one difficulty after another. At least with this, even if he did get blood on his hands, we would be sure it was well earned. Not like the spun web of half truths and exaggerations he was often fed to lift his blade.
At her offered coinpurse, however, he would shake his head, a hand raised in dismissal of the token. “Will this be enough to cover the expenses?”"Don't worry about it for now. As I told you earlier, I'm not overly concerned about coin. Once she is whole and hale, then you can worry about my dues. Until then, keep it. City's gone to hell in a basket lately. Never know when you may need that until you're settled." With that, he made for the door to gather his necessities from his shop, though he would pause at the egress once more. "Lock the door behind me. When I'm back, I'll knock four times, pause, and then a fifth. Don't open it to anyone else, some of the folks 'round here are real bastards."
[feel free to skip ahead to him coming back if you'd like 8D]
It was not uncommon to feel prying eyes be them of curiosity or of malice. Ianthe would have been oblivious to them and Jenny merely ignored them even now while making headway to the privacy of a room within the Taverns inn. Information was shared enough to hopefully suffice, the elder straightening the front of her garb despite the ragged state it was in caused by the unwelcoming excitement they faced. Don’t worry about trouble finding me, his assurance came as Ianthe practically melted in the linens. Aged eyes softened with only a nod of acknowledgement in reply.
Her expression drew into confusion as he denied the coin which only festered with the churning guilt after impeding upon his time, let alone having to travel through the summer storm. The city’s gone to hell and a hand basket lately. Never know when you may need that until you’re settled. The maids shoulders fell with compliance. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I suppose.” She mused ruefully. The instructions were simple as he made his exit. “Understood sir, do be careful.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Attention swiftly returned to her employer as a damp rag was retrieved from the pail of water. Jenny proceeded to gently dab the maidens temples to help with the fever until whatever potion had been taken would finally settle in. No sooner did Ianthe begin to stir, followed by a groan of discomfort. She’d always been rather slow to wake, one that no matter how many times her mother would chastise her about it – such habits were never broken. “Where—” she grumbled sleepily before the realization struck her and cheeks flushed a rosy hue. “Oh, I did not mean—” clumsily she went to sit up straight just as Jenny placed a hand on her shoulder. “Quite alright dear, please remain where you are.” The young maiden could not bring herself to argue, though it could have been just a habit to simply comply. “Oh, I must weigh as much as a horse.” She murmured under her breath in the realization that she had been carried here.
Jenny could not hold back the mirthful chuckle though cut short by the firm knock on the door. Another, two, following two more. The pause came, Ianthe went to stand only for Jenny to stand then and shook her head in silence. Another knock. A sigh escaped the maid as she pulled the door open, “Welcome back, sir.”
The hood was pulled taunt over his head as he made his way through the downpour once more, thankfully it wasn't as bad now. Despite that fact, it was still far worse than what he ever would have advised anyone going out in, resistance or not. Key met lock and the door to his shop swung open without much opposition, a whispered groan of hinges and the murmur of the wood sweeping over the rough bristle of the rug which he neatly wiped his boots across to save himself some clean up in the morning.
His brow furrowed, his mental insistence to hurry clashing with the necessity to ensure he grabbed everything he needed because a second trip would nearly be wholly out of the question. To that end, he would opt to only grind what he didn't already have specifically on hand, along with a small pouch of herbs that he may need, depending on how bad the wound had festered, along with other variables to be considered. His work was conducted swiftly, and the back inventory of the more fresh tonics and salves served its purpose as well.
His last lingering hesitance manifested only as he stood before the rather large imposition of his claymore. One of the few remainders he had of 'home'. It was heavy, their tools and practices unlike those more refined and polished techniques here in a more civilized setting. It still served its purpose - and well, at that. His lips pressed into a thin, flat line as he removed it from its ornate holding upon the wall. Since departing his previous company - for the most part - it hadn't seen much use, but if it needed any maintenance, he could make do, at least for one evening. He wrapped it and the leather sheathe carefully to protect it as much as possible from the elements before shouldering it, the medical pack tucked carefully under the other arm.
His final stop was to the stable connected via the back entrance, to which his presence earned a swift and sharp rise of Aeternum's proud crown. The pegasus shifted her weight, stepping closer to him, yet falling short from wholly shoving her head against him. No doubt on account of the strange scents upon him and that of blood. She snorted and he smiled at her. "It's nothing bad this time, I promise." He vowed, and his honesty was rewarded with a huff of dismissal from the noble equine. "I do need a favor. May I have a feather, Aetrernum?"
“Welcome back, sir.” The maid greeted as he stepped back into the room. He noted that the lady of the hour was once more among the living. "I trust the two of you were left well enough alone?" he inquired, voice plagued by being out of breath following his rush back and once again up the stairs. While he spoke, his hand fished into the satchel, withdrawing a petite vial of strawberry hued liquid. He handed it off to Lady Primrose, a crooked simper lifting one side of his mouth. "Drink this first off, I promise, it will taste much better than the other would have." The order was accompanied by a slight tease, given her initial disgust.
"I believe, however, I'll have to ask the two of you to do something with your top." The smile vanquished itself, his gaze drawing away from her quickly to Jenny, his head tilting faintly. He knew not the ins and outs of most feminine attire here. From what he had gathered, the backs of dresses atimes opened up and just had entirely too many strings. He hadn't paid much mind to the constitution of her own clothing, but if naught else, she would simply just have to make do with lying face down while he cleaned the gash of silver. "I'll need to be able to clean the wound." Realizing that perhaps the request may seem a bit.... forward to the lady, unless her employee had informed her of the cause of her distress, he would avert his stare coolly to the small table he intended to set his mortar and pestle on if it was needed. "I can, uh, leave. If that would be more comfortable until she's ready." Regardless, he would begin to unburden himself, setting the vials, herbs and other more delicate tools upon the rough surface nearby, the heavier of the packs allowed to rest upon the floorboards which heaved a soft groan under it.
Pearlescent gaze would quickly avert as her speckled cheeks flushed with apparent humility. Ianthe knew all the current events unfolding were cumbersome enough. To have to carry her up the flight of stairs and to have to endure the storm yet a second time? No amount of coin would be enough to compensate this mans time. Her mothers harsh words were mentally drilling in the back of her skull with berated scolding and utter shame. Without realizing, she’d begun to fidget with the sheets the longer it weighed on her mind. I trust the two of you were left well enough alone? Her attention snapped like a dogs recall loyal to its master. “Yes sir,” Her lower lip curled inward catching the agitated strain of his winded breath.
Drink this first off, I promise it will taste much better than the other would have. There was a lighter mirth in his tone to which tired opalescent sights would lift to see the smaller vial. Ianthe blinked as she retrieved the tonic and looked over the pinkish-red contents for a moment. Not out of uncertainty but more so of curiosity. “…Fascinating…” came the gentled murmur. She’d only been able to truly read about potions and their effects, medicines and herbology – many of the like. Anything that had been given to her as a child to “treat” ailments or injury were often forced down her throat or other unsavory means. Whatever could keep her mother out of the spotlight of quarrel.
Ianthe drank the contents without complaint though she could not quite place her discernment on the flavor. In Farrons defense, she considered, he never said it would taste good nor bad. Just not of whatever swirled within the putrid green one she was introduced to previously. She couldn’t ignore the stifled chuckle Jenny made as the maid merely shook her head seeming a little more at ease. Humored, if anything by the maidens puzzled expression then. I believe, however, I’ll have to ask the two of you to do something with your top. Ianthe looked to Farron then just to see his gaze break away from hers. Her own speckled cheeks reddened as she shrunk into the bed; I’ll need to be able to clean the wound. Jenny was chuckling again knowing full well the potential miscommunication there and the flush of her cheeks and the nervous ticks of Farrons movements. “Understood.”
The maid simply ushered him to turn around, there was no need for him to leave again when there was little effort made. Just a second of privacy was all that would be needed. Ianthe glanced to Jenny, nipping the inside of her cheek carefully turning so that her back faced them. There was a heavy sigh that fell from the maids lungs once she could see the staining of the corset, the tears that slaked down across the maidens back was beyond unsettling for the maid despite knowing that the lady had endured crueler punishments in the past by the hand of her own mother – and as did she.
Ianthe didn’t flinch or make so much of a whimper when undressed. Her back was various shades of black, blue, purple with underlying hints of red save for the open tears. There were other – plentiful scars, some overlapping others caused by lashings or braided whips depending on whatever it was her mother had once thought best for reprimanding. The fresher ones – there were two. The largest at jagged angle, and the other, seeming to have been a missed mark resided just underneath and dipped downward towards the base of her back. The stench of infection was unsavory following the irritation outlining the marks swollen with inflammation and pus. Fine shards of silver would occasionally catch the dim light within the room. She held the sheet closer to her chest to conceal her breasts. “Oh, dear child,” came the maids worried murmur. Apologetic, guilt gnawed at the elder moreso than earlier.
The young maiden tilted her head slightly to glance back at the maid then, though her expression remaining neutral as if any of this was merely natural, Ianthe thought nothing of the exposed injuries on her back – or rather, did not realize they were even present.
If there was one thing his shop was known for, it was certainly the flavors of his potions. Many apothecarial stores could claim the same effects and efficiencies of their wares, and for most sales, things were quite simple to make. Most wards against common, simple illnesses and the like were rather simple to make, and even apprentices were able to be tasked with their creation - just the same as he had been by his father. His ability to improve upon the tastes of these compounds, however, remained a trade secret he had learned from the man that had raised him. While some had more liberty to be taken than others, even the most vile of concoctions could be imbued at least lightly for a more pleasant experience. Children were especially fond of them, and there was always quite the colorful display of cough syrups upon his shelves with a wide array of flavors to chose from. Sweets to fruits. Just as the one he'd brought her should have had the faint, pleasant remnants of strawberries, but this was not one he was at liberty to enhance much.
Still, she didn't gag at it, and her interest in it brought a faint smile to his features. It was always nice to have someone take heed in one's work, and in this prideful regard, he was no different. “…Fascinating…” came the soft whisper of her vocals as he continued to set up his makeshift work station. He would allow the maid's chuckle to roll off his back, paying little attention to the elder's potential teasing. Perhaps under lighter circumstances, he'd have vexed both of them with the crude humor often partaken in when he'd been in Hui's horde. No doubt some of their comments would have been enough to turn both of them red for days, however, the pressing scent of the festering infection certainly didn't make him feel as if he was at liberty to indulge in jesting.
Maybe he'd torment her later.
“Understood.” The elder spoke, bidding him to merely turn away, and he did, settling the full of his attention on the supplies he had brought with him. His tools were met with a disinfectant wipe from a vodka dampened towel, ensuring that they were not going to add anything to her already compromised flesh. “Oh, dear child,” his gaze would lift to the reflection in the mirror at the worried murmur of Jenny. The colorless imagery would display the dark ruin of her back, one that he hoped looked worse than it truly was. He didn't need to remind himself he wasn't a medic, and he could only do so much to provide care for her. It would be far more dangerous to try and pursue something he knew so little about compared to just sticking to what he knew until she could be seen by someone with the proper knowledge.
Taking one of the chairs from the table, he would turn it towards the bed side, likewise adjusting the basin of water and cloths provided by the innkeeper. "Apologies if this stings at any point." He would offer as he would take the set of tweezers. "Going to try and remove as much of the silver as I can, then give it a good flush and see what we've got from there." He would inform her, finding that most felt a bit more comfortable when they knew precisely what was happening - what plan was being executed. He did, however, cast an arched brow towards the maid when he saw the extent of scar tissue that riddled her spine, a slight frown finding his lips. Their past was none of his concern, he had to remind himself, and he would release a heavy breath as instead he would ignore the morbid curiosity. "There is a salve that can be made to help with this." He told her, assuming that the pulled and slight pucker of skin would make some movements awkward or tight. Maybe it had just been out of self-consciousness, but he recalled just how difficult the scars about his neck had, at one point, made it a slight difficulty to turn his head. With this intertwining mess, he could only imagine. Let alone the difficulty of healing the gash and infection besides.
She felt the chill of the air against the wall of her exposed back as Jocelyn removed the tattered blouse and corset. There was a gentle promise made that the maid would make a point to search for a clean set of clothes, ones that were not in near ruin from their unfavorable adventures of days prior. The young maiden could only hope just garments were loose fitting, breathable and less pompous than her mother’s unsavory taste in fashion – anything with less sparkle. Ianthe held the sheets closer to her person in one hand, idly toying with the empty vial in the other as she seemed unphased by the maid’s obvious burden. Instead, opalescent gaze would simply fall to avert away from her employer as the sound of a chair was shifted into place.
Apologies if this stings at any point. Her sights returned to the empty vial with mild childlike curiosity. “It’s alright.” She assured candidly. Her left hand would shift its grip of the sheets as if to prepare herself as if it were the skirt of her dress readily awaiting clutching hands before being struck with whatever it was her mother used for punishment once upon a time. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t in pain. However, she couldn’t bring herself to express it. As if it wasn’t allowed and would only provoke further retaliation as it had once upon a time. It isn’t lady like to complain, Ianthe. Ten more lashings. Her mothers crass words ingrained into her skull. A sigh escaped her whilst trying to smother those unwarranted memories, turning the emptied vial over a few times in her right palm. Going to try and remove as much of the silver as I can, then give it a good flush and see what we’ve got from there.
“Will it not heal once the silver is removed?” Ianthe hummed curiously. She did not know the extent of her injuries as Jenny had yet to share with her the deeper gashes that slaked across her back. All she could feel was the irritating burn incited by the shards of silver remains. It wasn’t just a simple cut or abrasion that would heal within minutes. A broken bone would heal in a matter of days after appropriate rest. Unfavorably, the wounds were jagged and unclean – serrated almost. It was as if whatever silver weapon was used to strike her, may have intentionally broken on contact and spraying smaller shards. There is a salve that can be made to help with this. A slightly pointed ear upon the maiden twitched catching the weight and tone of his sigh. “You do not hide your curiosity well.” There was a subtle hint of mirth in Ianthe’s words as if some humorless effort to lighten the obvious tension in the room.
“If… a salve is what you suggest I will heed it.” she fidgeted with small glass vial again, occasionally the sheets too while being mindful not to accidentally flash the pharmacist. Quiet filled the room once more as she remained unflinching should he proceed forward with cleaning the wounds. “If I may,” Her own curiosity finally snared the better of here as the question surfaced. Her mother could very well be rolling in her grave for speaking out of turn.“When... did you decide you wanted to work in apothecary?”
The tweezers felt oddly small in his hands, and while he wasn't wholly unaccustomed to working with more petite instruments, they were certainly not his usual. Used to collect small seeds and other ingredients of that ilk, it was then followed by the comfort of the mortar and pestle more times than not. At least on the brighter notes, his eye sight was good, and he was easily able to pick out most of the remnants of silver engraved in her angry skin after wiping away the dried remnants of gore and other... more unsavory fluids that clung to her skin. As promised, he did his best to maintain a light touch. It hadn't been an overly long time since he had been called upon to tend to Hui's hooligans, but they were of a more.... brutish nature, he felt. She was certainly no stranger to anguish should her back tell the story well, but it wasn't something he would willingly subject her to. This wasn't some harsh lesson to be more careful next time. While he didn't know her story, he held his doubts that this was some slip up, a folly of her own from merely not having enough awareness of her surroundings or some other foolhardy blunder.
“Will it not heal once the silver is removed?” A soft, thoughtful hum would leave him in consideration as he brushed another piece of glittering metal onto the towel where that bounty was being currently horded. "It's hard to say." He would admit. He wasn't sure the complications that may arise from leaving the injury to fester for so long - let alone if he had the skills to remove enough of the hazardous ruin for her to mend as quickly as she surmised. "That would be preferable, but I'd rather take precautions none the less until you can be seen by someone in this expertise." She needed a real medic, not a back alley butcher with a needle and a thread. Not him.
“You do not hide your curiosity well.” Elongated ear would give a solitary flick as his brow furrowed, another fragment retrieved and left with its brethren, a growing a veritable collection thus far. Almost as if she had been struck by a fragile stick of ice rather than sterling. An interesting and certainly targeted weapon used. Perhaps they'd meant to track her after all. "It's not my business," he would offer in assurance. Often times in such cases, the less he knew the better. In truth, he didn't want to become entrenched in her affairs anymore than he already was. Her affliction just wasn't one he could turn a blind eye to and sleep well for the rest of the night. A chance he was glad he had taken even if it did bring trouble to his welcome mat. Given the current status of the wound, and her stubborn insistence, he wasn't sure how much longer she would have held out.
“If… a salve is what you suggest I will heed it.” He would cast a glance to her hand maid, tilting his head towards the ruination of her spine - not only the fresh marring, but those that marked her from the past as well. "I think it would be for the best." Did she even know of its state? Given her condition, she seemed barely aware of it, little flinching accompanied his work and soon, he had gathered all he could readily see. Though with the splintered nature of the attack, he felt almost certain that there were further nuances he simply couldn't see. He would bring the drenched cloth over the wound before wringing and rinsing it again to cleanse the last of what he could discern.
“If I may,” She began as he placed the rag back once again into the dirtied basin. Another from a clean container used to wipe down his hands and once again around the larger area of her back before joining the prior. The wrap of gauze and the gentle adhesive mixture retrieved. “When... did you decide you wanted to work in apothecary?” The inquiry was posed almost sheepishly, as if she shouldn't be posing such things, or perhaps that it was improper. That was one of the things that made dealing with nobles so stuffy and taxing, at least in his opinion. They attached too many strings to far too simple of matters. "My old man was one," he would answer, the words easy, laid back, as he pressed the tacky edges of the bandage to her skin, a simple barrier between the open cut and the world around it. "I had a lot of respect for him, and I liked working with the plants as well. Tending a garden is very relaxing, working with the mortar can be cathartic as well." His ear would twitch again as he fully settled back, satisfied with what he'd done. "And believe it or not, I used to be a bit of a people pleaser. I liked how happy and relieved people looked when they found out they could get medicine to cure all kinds of maladies from his shelves." His father had been a good man, down to the very end. He didn't even know the color of greed, if someone couldn't pay, they still got their remedies.
Opalescent sunrise gaze would idly flit to the layout of the room. A simple design as any inn or tavern room would be. There were no intricately carved baseboards or gaudy-fashioned curtains to decorate the windows. For a noble, this could have been jarring or perhaps even tasteless by design. Ianthe gave a soft musing hum to both the admittance of the Apothecary. A slender ear would give a light twitch where the maiden would slightly turn her head whilst the finer pieces of silver were removed from tender flesh. … I’d rather take precautions nonetheless until you can be seen by someone in this expertise. Her expression would soften before drawing her attention forward once more. Ianthe could help but read into his words a little further. They sounded so… down-played. As if he was not capable. A trained breath escaped her feeling one of the deeper shards removed remaining ignorant of the full extent of this unwarranted injury.
Ianthe allowed the subject of his curiosities subside, daring not to press further. It wasn’t her place either to pry. Prying would have caused a meal to be skipped or a slap across the face if not worse so it was best to comply to someone tending the gruesome portrait the marred her back. She remained quiet, on the occasion looking to the elder handmaid settled against the wall as if she had many times before until summoned. Jocelyn’s gaze would briefly catch the pharmacist own and her expression paled with genuine worry. One where Ianthe would quickly break away from, pretending to go unnoticed. I think it would be for the best. Came the conclusion. “Alright then.” she conceded with ease.
The sound of wrung water was heard before the damp cloth met with care against her back. It was only then, was there the slight reaction of a minor twitch and a strained breath withheld otherwise from her lips. Redirecting the discomfort, did bashful words inquire upon his practice with simple curiosity and wonder. My old man was one, Her attention was draw, curiosity slowly being plucked with the slight tilt of her head. Ianthe listened with care, her neutral expression softening as Farron continued on about the musings of his father and the botanical craft. …Tending a garden is very relaxing, working with the mortar can be cathartic as well.
A gentled smile finally managed to surface upon porcelain features. “I’ve always loved the gardens.” she hummed coolly. “Apothecary was a subject I’d been interested in too. If I could get away with it, save for the fantasy novels I’d hide away, such tomes were added to my stash.” A lofty sigh escaped her. “My mother was ill against it though,” her shoulders rose and fell in the weight of a sigh. The bandages seemed unperturbed by the slight disturbance. Ill against it and when she inevitably discovered the young girl with such readings, the woman did not hesitate to light aflame the girls dreams. She did not need to see the handmaiden’s expression grim, as her gaze fell to the floor with guilt and remorse. “Your father sounds like a fine man,” she stated with ease. “…and I if I may be so bold to say, I quite admire your talents too. I find it quite remarkable to have the knowledge of such a skill.” There was genuity in her words as she spoke, hands clung to the fabric of the sheets. She would need to find a means to repay the man.
