Page 97 of A Reign of Embers

“Yes.” She splays her hands on the desktop. “Are you aware that by combining gifts, they generally produce a greater effect than if the two effects happened separately?”

One side of my mouth quirks upward. “That’s what we’re counting on.”

“Well, that’s where the problem lies. For a minute here or there, it doesn’t become a problem. But if you try to sustain a combined effort for longer, expand it further—you can easily lose your handle on it. And if you don’t rein it in quickly enough, you can do damage to yourself before you even realize you’ve crossed that line.”

“Damage?” I repeat, my stomach flipping over.

Irma’s smile turns sad. “Your gift may start demanding more sacrifices of your body—permanent ones. And for those, you won’t even get to choose what you give up.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Aurelia

Iwake with an uncomfortable heat still coursing through my limbs and a more pleasant warmth against my back.

As I stir on the bed, my lungs fill with the tart yet smoky scent of my first husband. Marc’s arm slides down to my waist, hugging me a little closer against him before his embrace relaxes.

Sprite leaps up to join me with a trill of a mew that sounds like a protest. Does she object to sharing the space?

I rub her head between her ears before rolling over to meet Marc’s gaze. Aches sharp enough to make me wince reverberate through my joints.

Marc takes in my reaction with a knitting of his brow. He strokes his other hand over my hair, his gaze intent. “Howare you feeling?”

I test my mouth and find it dry but my throat only a little tender. “A little feverish and achy, but not as bad as before. Did I faint in the kitchen? How long have I been out? What’s happened?”

The corner of Marc’s mouth quirks upward at my flurry of questions. He leans in to kiss my forehead. A contentment I never expected to feel with this man unfurls over me like the softest of blankets, soothing the edges of my anxiety.

“The medics kept you asleep so you could heal better,” he says. “It’s the next morning. They’ve been distributing the concoction you made all around the palace. The last report I heard, it isn’t curing the pox completely, but it’s easing the effects enough to allow a smooth recovery.”

My heart leaps to the base of my throat. “Coraya?”

“She’s had two medics with her since yesterday, ensuring her fever never gets too high and that she stays hydrated. The potion helped her too.”

I sag into the mattress, a sharper thread of tension winding through my initial relief. “My cure wasn’t totally effective.”

“Maybe that’s the best effort anyone could have made. Your gift doesn’t always provide you with a recipe for instant healing, does it?”

“No, but I asked it for something that would make me totally well, and it felt as if I had the answer.” I pause. “Combining my gift with Farro’s might have weakened the composition of the potion. I’ve never tried anything like that before, and we were stretching the persinam awfully thin.”

“That possibility occurred to me too. But it’s better that everyone is partly well than only a few recovered and most still on death’s doorstep. You were amazing.”

The awe in his gaze brings a giddy flutter into my chest. “I serve my people every way I know how.”

“And that’s why there could be no better empress.” Marc brushes another kiss to my temple. Then his expression tightens. “The cure didn’t get to everyone in time. Baron Daveno and Marchionissa Lucrene… They were already too sick. A few of the staff as well.”

Grief hits me in a wallop, drowning my initial relief. I blink at the tears that’ve sprung to my eyes.

Lucrene did her best to guide me, even trained alongside me despite her age. The others—I might not have known them well, but for any of them to have died because I failed…

My thoughts race to all the other people under my care. I push myself upright. “There’ll be more cases—the pox will keep spreading. To make more of the concoction?—”

“A few of the medics are already handling that. I watched everything you did carefully and gave them full instructions. They sent out a few of the unaffected staff yesterday in search of persinam bushes to bring into the greenhouse and encourage into bloom. It’s sounded like they expect to have a decent crop within another day or two, and then we may have a potion that’s a full cure after all.”

I swallow thickly. “Then let’s hope there aren’t many more cases in the meantime. We’ll have to arrange funerals. I should look in on the members of court still recovering…”

My body sways, fatigue still weighing heavy on it, but a knock on the door stiffens my posture.

Marc is already moving, pushing off the bed and stealthily striding to his expected post by the threshold.

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