Page 2 of Quest

I stirred the potion with a slender spoon carved from the wood of an ancient Whispermint tree—clockwise to draw in health, counterclockwise to banish ailment. My eyes closed briefly as magic pulsed through me, guiding my hands. I whispered the familiar incantations, my voice soft but confident, invoking the healing spirits that my family had revered for generations. The air shimmered around me—motes of light dancing in the space, drawn to the potency of my spell.

The liquid hissed softly and turned a soft rosy color as the spell concluded. I opened an intricately carved bottle and poured the tonic inside with practiced movements. The potion glowed within its new home, ready to heal wounds beyond the physical….for in this magic-filled apothecary I was not merely an herbalist but a keeper of ancient secrets, a guardian of a legacy that healed not only the body but the soul as well.

I handed the completed potion to Father, who took it with a calloused hand. The bottle glistened as he lifted it to the light to examine its contents. His critical appraisal softened and his proud gaze met mine. “You’ve come a long way, Mei.”

His praise partially eased the anxiety constantly brewing beneath the surface. The lengthy curse that had eclipsed the sun had made it impossible to grow our enchanted herbs, which had limited my training to book knowledge, resulting in my practical knowledge being severely lacking. Even after the light had been restored, I’d balanced catching up on my practical instruction with helping Father reinstate the apothecary after its neglect beneath the darkness that had shrouded the kingdom.

My pride in my accomplishment was short-lived, eclipsed by my lingering worry. No matter how much I developed my skills, they never seemed to be enough—I could alleviate the discomfort from his symptoms, but never discover the cure itself; I could only watch helplessly as his health slowly deteriorated.

I motioned for Father to drink and he uncorked the bottle with his usual reluctance. I hovered over him and watched as he lifted the vial to his lips, but before he could even take a sip the bell above the apothecary door jingled—a usually welcoming sound that now seemed ominous.

I walked towards the front of the shop as a rugged knight clad in Lumeria’s royal colors stepped inside. Behind him—casting a long shadow in the doorway—stood a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man with a presence as commanding and unnerving as the vision I had just witnessed.

A flutter of attraction momentarily robbed me of my voice before annoyance hastily squelched the ridiculous emotion. I looked pointedly at the sign turned toClosedbefore directing my glare to the intruders. “My father isn’t seeing anyone today.”

My forceful tone drew the intruder’s gaze, sharp and assessing. “I must speak with the owner of this apothecary concerning a matter of great urgency regarding the kingdom.” His tone was calm and authoritative as he stepped forward, leaving no room for argument. Behind him the knight shifted, clearly uncomfortable being the bearer of inconvenient demands.

This wasn’t the first time we’d hosted unwelcome visitors lured by the promises their imaginations concocted about what our apothecary’s enchantments could cure. I crossed my arms. “I am temporarily in charge. Whatever business you have you can conduct with me.”

The intruder arched a single dark brow as his gaze flickered over my petite stature. “As…capableas you appear, I’m afraid my orders were to speak to the proprietor, not his rude and uncooperative assistant.”

Indignation rose, but before I could unleash the well-deserved tirade burning my lips, Father emerged from the back room, leaning heavily on his cane. Despite his pallor, his eyes shone with a stubborn determination that I knew all too well.

“Whatever business you have with me, you will treat my daughter with respect.”

The intruder surveyed me with blatant dislike—as if deliberating how much politeness I warranted—before finally offering a slight bow, an inadequate apology that didn’t extend to words, as if his pride didn’t grant me the courtesy. He turned his back to me to address Father.

“I am here as a representative of the royal family of Lumeria with a matter of great urgency: we are seeking your assistance in participating in a quest, whose nature is a matter of utmost secrecy that cannot be divulged.” He cast me a sharp look, a silent order for me to grant them privacy.

Instead of obeying, I stepped closer to Father and looped my arm through his before stubbornly lifting my chin, daring this stranger to force my departure.

His mouth thinned. “You misunderstand. This isn’t a request, but an order from your king.” He withdrew a missive bearing a royal seal, which Father shakily accepted. Curiosity as to its contents burned and I impatiently watched Father read it, his expression growing grimmer with each line.

When he finished, he slowly refolded the letter and tucked it away before sighing in resignation. “I understand and will join this quest.”

I lurched forward. “Father, you can’t!”

“Mei.” Father turned to me. “Personal desires have no place in my duty to obey a royal order. It has been decided.” Though his eyes remained loving, they glistened with unwavering resolve that I knew no amount of protest would shake.

Ever stubborn, I made to argue, but the odious intruder silenced it before I could even form the words. “Forgive me, but I failed to conduct the proper introductions that will make it clear that I will not take no for an answer. I am Prince Darcel of Lumeria.”

His bow was proper, but he offered it with a challenging air, as if fully expecting me to trip over myself in a show of groveling apology. However, royal blood did nothing to change my mounting dislike towards him or my need to defend my father; instead it only raised my guard.

My cold look didn’t change. “I expected a member of the royal family to be in possession of manners.”

Father’s breath hooked in horror at the insult and the prince’s disdain became aghast. “You are the most improper woman I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

Propriety was of little concern to me at the moment; a prince’s approval was meaningless in comparison to my father’s well-being. “I am not just going to stand silently by and allow you to bully my father. He’s ill and much too frail to be dragged into whatever secret quest you’ve concocted, and I refuse to allow you to?—”

My defense was interrupted as Father wobbled forward. “I appreciate your concern, Mei, but I need to go.” His weak voice was firm.

Helplessness pressed against my chest, making it difficult to wrench my desperation from my throat. “But you’re in no state to go on such a mission.” While I wasn’t privy to the details of the quest contained in the royal missive, I had no doubt it would be dangerous if it required the services of a magical herbalist, even one in a poor state of health.

“The cost of being the guardians of the spells housed in our apothecary is to use them for the benefit of others,” Father stated. “I cannot break that sacred vow for my own selfishness now.”

“But no help can come at the cost of your own well-being.”

He sighed. “There is no other option.” I heard the words that remained unspoken—I was currently too inexperienced to take his place, leaving no one else to fulfill the royal charge. I felt paralyzed by my own inadequacy.

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