Chapter 52
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I knew he was confused. But apart from the confusion, it felt as if something more was disturbing him.
Alaric wasn’t the type to fidget, but he had adjusted the leather straps on his horse at least three times since we’d left the stables. His brows were furrowed in a way that didn’t scream annoyance–it was deeper, more thoughtful.
“You’re quiet,” I said softly, keeping my horse steady beside his.
He didn’t look at me. “I’m always quiet.”
“Not like this.”
He stayed silent for a beat too long.
I nudged my horse closer, squinting up at him. “Is this about the rebel king?”
His jaw twitched. “Partially.”
“Partially?” I echoed.
He finally looked at me, his eyes unreadable. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I straightened in my saddle. “Now?”
“We’re already halfway there.”
A frown pulled at my lips. I looked around, all I saw was bushes. “Where is ‘there“?”
“You’ll see.”
I resisted the urge to groan. Of course he wouldn’t just say it.
We rode for another few minutes, the path turning more wooded, more narrow. I shifted in my saddle, uncomfortable but trying to hide it. The silence between us stretched again until I couldn’t take it.
“You said it was partially about the rebel king. What’s the other part?”
Alaric didn’t answer immediately.
Then, he said quietly, “I had a dream.”
I blinked. “A dream?”
“A memory, maybe,” he corrected himself, his voice low. “But it felt different. There were voices–old ones. Warnings.”
“About?”
He looked at me then, something almost haunted in his eyes. “About you.”
I stiffened. “Me?”
“It doesn’t matter.” His tone shifted quickly, sharp and dismissive. “Dreams are dreams?
“No,” I said, matching his tone. “You brought it up. Tell me.”
He glanced away, exhaling slowly. “They said… if I let you go, the petals will fall faster.”
I froze. The petals?”
His eyes flicked to mine, then back to the road. “Forget it”
“No I insisted, my voice rising “You said petals. As in–the ones in the glass?”
He didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough.
I swallowed, my mind spanning. “Is that part of the curse?”
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8:31 PM
Chapter 52
His lips pressed into a thin line. “You ask too many questions.”
“You offer too few answers.”
е
Alaric glanced at me again, his eyes tired. “Yes. The petals are part of it. When the last one falls, I’ll be a monster permanently.”
My breath caught.
“You never said it was timed,” I whispered.
“Because it doesn’t concern you.”
“It does now.”
His gaze burned into me. “Does it?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to.
We arrived at a clearing surrounded by withered trees. An old cabin sat nestled at the edge of a broken fence, smoke curling from the crooked chimney.
Where
Where are we?” I asked.
“Old apothecary,” he said, dismounting. “He used to supply poisons. Rare ones.”
I followed him down, brushing my hands on my trousers. “You think he sold the one used against you?”
He nodded. “I think he sold something to Amira.”
My stomach twisted.
He led the way to the crooked door, knocking once before pushing it open.
The scent inside was sharp and earthy. Herbs hung from the ceiling, and small vials lined every surface. A hunched man stood near a fire, his hands stained with ink and roots.
“Your Majesty,” the man rasped, turning with a crooked smile. “I thought you were done with me.”/
“Not yet, Gareth,” Alaric said, voice cool. “You supplied a poison recently. A sweet syrup. Faint. Dissolves in citrus. But poisonous to the body. Who bought it?”
Gareth’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Alaric. “Lots of people buy my syrups.”
“Not this one.” Alaric stepped forward. “It left a rash. But the rash wasn’t the goal–it was a cover. The true effect was damage to the tierves. A slow weakening. A poison to dull a beast.”
Gareth raised a brow. “Specific request.”
“Amira Waters,” I said before I could stop myself. “Did she buy it?”
Gareth’s lips twitched. “Pretty little liar, that one. Came with a gold coin and a fake name. I remember her because she asked for something poetic. Said she wanted her sister’s hands to tremble while she smiled at her.”
I clenched my fists.
Alaric’s face didn’t change, but I saw the way his hands twitched.
“She said it was for a friend,” Gareth added. “But I knew better.”
“Do you have more of that poison?” Alaric asked.
Gareth nodded. “In the back.”
Alaric turned to me. “Stay here.”
I didn’t move. “Why?”
“Because I said so
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8:31 PM σ ·
Chapter 52
I rolled my eyes. Asshole.
He disappeared into the back room, and I stared at the old man.
“You gave her the poison?”
“I sell what people ask,” Gareth said, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean I care how they use it.”
“She could’ve killed the king.”
Gareth’s expression didn’t change. “People try to kill your king every day, girl. She just had more flair.”
I bit back a snarl. “She tried to frame me.”
Then maybe you should stop letting her. Stop being a weakling little girl.”
Before I could say anything else, Alaric returned a moment later, holding a small corked vial.
“Same one?” he asked.
Gareth leaned forward slightly, his bony fingers twitching as he reached for it. He uncorked the vial, brought it to his nose, and inhaled deeply.
A strange smile pulled at his lips. “Exactly.”
I shifted uncomfortably, watching his expression twist into something unreadable.
“So?” Alaric asked, his tone clipped. “What is it?”
Gareth swirled the vial lazily. “It’s called Norvine. Extremely rare. Not fatal unless taken in large quantities–but it has its effects. Skin inflammation, nerve damage, temporary hallucinations in some cases. Nasty little thing. More of it, it leads to the nerves damages. Slow death. Madness even.”
Oh Amira, she had such evil intentions.
My stomach turned. “And where would someone even get this?”
Gareth’s eyes flicked up to me, and for a second, I swore he looked amused.
“I used to keep a stash,” he said simply. “For the more….. creative clients.”
Alaric stepped forward. “And who bought this particular vial? We want to be sure before we make our accusation.”
Gareth didn’t answer right away. He set the vial down on a cloth–covered table, then met Alaric’s eyes. “I don’t know names.”
My mouth opened in protest, but he cut me off.
“I know faces,” Gareth continued. “And the woman who bought this one had red curls, violet eyes, soft voice–like she’d
never harm a fly.”
My breath hitched. Alaric stilled beside me.
“Amira,” I whispered.
Gareth shrugged. “Didn’t ask what she wanted it for. Didn’t care. She paid in gold.”
