Chapter 40
"I've been thinking about something," Marnaigne began, and my muscles tensed at the gravity of his tone.
I'd returned from Merrick's cavern a week ago to find the king still in the bath. He'd come back to consciousness but didn't remember the seizure. He wasn't aware that any time had passed, and he certainly didn't know his life had hung so precariously in the balance.
I'd helped him from the stinking water and rubbed him with a light mix of witch hazel and comfrey, and we'd watched for more of the dark Brilliance to weep out of him.
It hadn't.
He'd laughed in amazement, poking and prodding and trying to push out more of the blackness as I feigned astonishment.
We kept watching.
His skin had remained clear.
It remained clear that afternoon and again the next day.
I'd cautioned him to take everything slowly, carefully, to do nothing that might provoke a relapse. I was worried a miraculous recovery would look somehow suspicious, so I applied rose hips and the oil of sea buckthorn seeds and covered him in gauze wraps, helping to heal the damage caused by the Brilliance while also hiding just how quickly I'd managed to heal him. I checked in on him throughout the day, tending his dressings, giving him restorative teas and baths heavily laden with soothing tonics.
Marnaigne had been so delighted with my progress, he'd never stopped to ask how exactly the cure had worked, simply taking it at face value.
But now…
"Yes, Your Majesty?" I dared to prompt. I was in the middle of examining his back, dabbing at one of the nastier wounds he'd suffered as the sludge had pushed its way through. It was healing well but would undoubtedly leave a scar.
"I've had lots of time to sit and mull, these past few days."
"It's good that you're resting so much," I said cheerfully, trying to delay the inevitable.
He made a sound of consideration. "Yes, well, I've been thinking of you, of your work with me…"
I tensed, scrambling to come up with a valid-sounding excuse.
"…and I keep returning to the matter of payment."
My ribs relaxed. If he was thinking about payment, then he didn't believe he'd need me much longer. I could return to my cottage and work on finding an actual cure for the Shivers.
"I'm told you're usually paid on some sort of barter system, with food or livestock—"
"Or coins," I interjected hopefully. I had no desire to wrangle one of the royal stallions all the way back to Alletois, and I had a far better idea on how to use any money he saw fit to give me.
He smiled. "My preferred method as well. But when I began to contemplate what a fair amount would be, I was rather stumped. Without doubt, I would have died without your care. How do I put a price on that? How many chickens or horses—or coins—equal a life? And is my life worth more, as a father? As a king? It's quite an exercise in self-examination."
I could feel the conversation going off track. "Actually, I've been thinking too, and there is a favor I'd like to ask of you…."
He raised an eyebrow and I had the distinct sense he was annoyed I'd interrupted his reflection.
Hurriedly, I raced through my request. "When I was in the Rift last week, I met a trio of girls. Orphans from one of the villages the militia raided. They're my sisters' daughters." I swallowed, feeling heated and out of breath. "I didn't even know I had nieces, and they certainly didn't know me, but…they have no one now, and the temple was so crowded with other children in similar plights…I was thinking of trying to adopt them. Taking them back with me to Alletois to raise and care for. But I'm not sure how to go about that. A word from you would help."
I bit the corner of my lip, waiting for his verdict.
"No."
There was no attempt to soften the blow. Just the refusal, as weighted as an iron block.
"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say after that. His answer had been too absolute to attempt a negotiation.
Marnaigne glanced back at me, reading my expression. "Oh, don't look so downcast, Hazel. Of course I will see to the children. We'll find homes for them, ones where they'll be well taken care of, loved and wanted. But I'm afraid it won't be with you."
"I…I know I'm young, but I really think—"
"Age has nothing to do with it, and I'm certain you'll be an excellent mother one day, but you're going to be much too busy for all that."
"I am?"
He smiled, looking pleased. "That's what I was trying to tell you before. Rather than let you slip away, back to tending farmers' scrapes and head colds, I'd like to offer you a position here, in Chatellerault."
I froze. "You want me to stay in town?"
The king laughed. "Closer than that. I'd like to appoint you court healer."
"Me?" It sounded like a squeak.
"Of course! You're the only one who saw the situation and didn't run. You're the only who has determined the Shivers' cure."
I smiled uneasily at the praise I had not earned.
"Your Majesty—"
"René," he corrected me.
"René," I agreed. "I'm flattered you think so well of me, but—"
"I've already seen to everything. Aloysius is moving your belongings to a fine suite as we speak, here in the family's wing. I want to make sure you're close by should anything ever befall me again."
I tried to arrange my face into an expression of gratitude while racing through ways to gently decline the king's offer. "I appreciate that most fervently, sir, but my gardens are in Alletois. My study and plants and everything I need to do my work are back at my cottage."
He made a face of easy dismissal. "I'll send men to gather whatever you need, or we can purchase things here in town. As for plants—surely nothing of yours could top our greenhouse or gardens. We have more herbs and flowers and trees than anywhere else in the whole of the country. And I'll personally ensure that your workroom here has the finest supplies."
"Yes, but—"
"You'll have your choice of assistants, apprentices, however many you need."
I frowned. "I usually work alone…."
"And you'll continue to, with me, with the children—though Holy First please, never let them get ill—but you'll want to train others in how to administer your cure."
"My cure?" I repeated. My head felt like a kaleidoscope spun out of control.
The king nodded. "For the Shivers. Now that you've solved its mystery, we'll need to spread word throughout the capitol, throughout the country." His smile was painfully bright, cutting into me like a knife. "You're going to save thousands, Hazel. What more could a healer ask for?"
It was the very thing I'd wanted to do, the thing I'd used to justify so many of my recent actions. I'd ignored the deathshead and kept the king alive to be used as a glorified test subject, telling myself the cure would save so many.
And now he was giving me the opportunity, the platform and reach, to do all that and more. What more could I ask for?
But there wasn't a cure. Not one I could replicate. I'd cheated and used one of my candles, giving Marnaigne a new, illness-free life. I couldn't do that again and again, with every stricken person in Martissienes.
No.
A cure, a real cure, would need to be discovered.
And soon.