Chapter 28

King Marnaigne sat near the parlor's hearth in a canvas-covered chair, watching the flickering flames. He wore another robe, navy today, and must have recently bathed. He seemed mostly clear of Brilliance, and the ends of his hair curled wet around his neck.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," I greeted him.

He surprised me with a warm smile. "You're still here, I see." He gestured to the chair opposite him.

I'd decided it would be best to keep my tone as light as I could today. Laughter would help brighten his spirits and make the tasks at hand easier for me to carry out. "Did you expect me to dash away in the middle of the night?"

"No one would blame you if you did. I am just about to dine—join me?"

He gestured to a silver cart laden with plates of eggs and tartines, coffee and juice, along with a basket of croissants. After a moment's deliberation, I picked out a cinnamon one and nearly groaned as I took my first bite.

I hated that Leopold was right. I'd never tasted anything better.

"I'd like to know more about what treatments the other healers tried," I began.

"Treatments?" he repeated, letting out a snort. "Tortures!" Marnaigne took a bite of his own pastry, speaking around the crumbs. "The first doctor tried taking hot bits of metal to my skin, running the edges down my body, to cauterize the wounds."

My eyebrows rose with concern. "But there are no wounds."

He made a face of agreement. "It seemed to work for a day or so, and he was satisfied we were making progress. But after the third session, I couldn't endure the pain any longer. I sent him packing."

"And the next?"

He slurped his coffee, his movements mirroring Leopold's with an uncanny similarity. There was no denying they were father and son. "The second nearly killed me. Powders and potions and concoctions I'd never heard of. I was violently ill for a week, throwing up and—" He stopped himself, staring down at the food. "Well, you can imagine, I'm sure."

I could, and set aside the croissant.

"Did he happen to leave behind any notes? Lists of supplies, dosages given?"

He shrugged before looking to Aloysius.

"I believe there is a remainder of the powder," the valet supplied.

"I was supposed to take it three times a day, mixed with water." Marnaigne's mouth puckered.

"I'd love to look at it."

Aloysius nodded, jotting down the note.

"The next healer tried wraps. Slathered these long bandages with some sort of mud, then wound them all around my limbs and set me on the terrace in the sun. I was like a living brick when he returned. Took three footmen to chisel me out of the stinking mess."

"Did it help at all?"

"He made it worse, the stupid tête de noeud."

I nearly choked on my coffee, stifling a laugh at the king's choice of insults. "It's a wonder he didn't kill you. The minerals probably drew out the Brilliance with terrible speed."

The king snorted. "?‘The Brilliance.' Don't you mean my sins?"

I set my cup down. "People think up all sorts of things to help them get through trials," I said tactfully. "I don't think it matters much what they say, only what you believe."

He wiped away a trickle of gold falling down his temple as his gaze drifted back to the fire. "I have no pretensions of being a perfect king. Or husband. Or father. I have my faults, just as anyone else. But it stings that my subjects believe this sickness was brought about because of them." He glanced up with a piercing intensity. "Tell me, little healer, what sins would fall out of you?"

My face warmed. I wasn't used to being the center of attention. Focus was always on the person being cared for, never on the healing hands behind them. His eyes were like shafts of light, angled directly on me. "I…I don't know, Your Majesty."

He took a long sip of coffee, squinting at me. "You don't seem the lazy type, and you're far too thin to be a glutton."

I smiled, hoping his little game would end there.

"You are quite a lovely girl, though," he continued, oblivious to my discomfort. "Perhaps vanity would come spilling out."

I tried to laugh. "It's hard to be vain with so many freckles across one's face."

He made a noise of agreement. "Something else, then? Your skills as a healer? To be so gifted at such a young age—that must cause your chest to puff, hmm?"

I'd never considered my expertise to be a source of pride or self-importance, but he was probably right. Merrick had given me too many talents for me to be entirely humble.

"I think you've guessed it, Your Majesty. Now, if you're done eating, we ought to start your examination."

"Lust."

The word fell heavy between us, the crack of a hatchet finding its tree, the blade biting sharp and irrevocably. It brought a stain of scarlet to my cheeks as I remembered my nightmare, the way I'd let Leopold take control of my desires, of my body, of my very self.

"Envy, perhaps," I responded with more honesty than I'd intended. "Coveting things that will never be mine."

Marnaigne clucked sympathetically. "It's a hard thing to admit, isn't it? Now, imagine how shameful it is, having evidence of those same weaknesses run down your body for all the world to see and judge."

I met his eyes again, compassion flooding my heart. "You'll receive no judgment from me. I promise you that, Your Majesty."

"René," he offered unexpectedly. "Please, call me René."

"René." I swallowed, gathering my nerves. "Do you think we could have a moment in private?"

"This is a private moment," he said, gesturing to the nearly empty chamber.

I tilted my head toward Aloysius and the two remaining footmen, the four guards standing watch at the chamber entrance. "Entirely private."

"Are you planning on murdering me, little healer?" The king paused, his small, nervous joke falling flat.

"Of course not, Your Maj—René," I said with a smile, trying to keep my words light and steady. There was a pang of worry creeping up my stomach and tightening my throat.

I might, I wanted to say. I might have to.

Studying me curiously, the king waved them out of the chambers.

Aloysius lingered on the threshold, his face burning with naked curiosity, but he eventually followed the other men.

Only once the door had clicked shut did Marnaigne dare to look at me, his lips set in a grim line. "I'm dying, aren't I? That's why you wanted them sent away." He took a carefully measured breath, flexing his fingers over the caps of his knees. "How long do I have left?"

"Oh," I began, startled. "Oh no.I didn't mean…That's not what I meant by…" I shook my head. "Let's start again, shall we?"

The king nodded, but his face remained dark with apprehension.

I licked my lips, unsure of how to begin.

I didn't usually have to use Merrick's gift on my patients. They came to me with familiar sicknesses needing familiar cures: broken bones required plaster casts, summer colds called for warm soup and herbal teas. I didn't have to double-check my work because I knew what was needed, I knew how those things could be fixed.

"A bath," I decided. I would wash the new Brilliance from his face and then cup his cheeks. "I'd like to draw you a bath."

"I've had one already this morning," he said, unmoving.

"Yes but…" I paused, my eyes flitting about the chamber. My leather valise was still on the side table where I'd left it the night before. "Not with my tonics. Where's your bath?"

"Through there," he said, indicating a room beyond the parlor.

The tub was massive and claw-footed. A curved golden spigot rose over its side, like the neck of a swan. I experimented with the handles, surprised to find both cold and hot running water pumped right into the porcelain basin.

As the tub filled with warm water, I added some of the witch hazel and yarrow I'd pulled out before, then grabbed a bottle of distilled geranium oil. It smelled as verdant as a greenhouse as I sprinkled it in.

"More astringents," I explained.

Marnaigne lingered on the room's threshold, watching me. "Should I…should I disrobe?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

"If you please." I shifted my gaze to the far corner of the room and studied the black marble tiles' pattern until I heard the king slip beneath the water.

"How sumptuous," he said, waving his fingers through the water. "I could almost believe I'm at a bathhouse, being waited upon by a harem of nubile young beauties."

"I'm terribly sorry to disappoint," I said, adding more of the tonics and testing the water temperature.

Marnaigne settled back against the tub's slope and closed hiseyes.

"I'm going to let you soak in this for a few minutes, and then I want to try putting on something to draw out the Brilliance—slowly this time, gently. I'll start with your face."

He hummed an assent and relaxed farther down into the bath.

I dug through my valise until I found charcoal powder and several needed oils. I mixed them in a bowl, adding a bit of clay and a small dollop of honey.

"Will this hurt at all?" the king asked as I finished the mixture and brought it over for his inspection.

"Not at all," I said, kneeling. "Just lie back and pretend you're at that salacious spa of yours."

He laughed and shut his eyes once more.

I started with his forehead, covering it with a thick layer of the paste before drawing a line of it down his nose. I smudged more along his temples, and then, gently, so, so gently, I cupped his cheeks and peered down into the face of the king.