Page 81 of Pippa of Lauramore
“It’s not your fault.” Even though I know it’s true, the words are hard to spit out.
“Your father has asked me what I wish done with them.”
Surprised, I glance from the napkin I’ve begun twisting again. “And what do you wish done with them?”
His eyes narrow. “I would have them drawn and quartered.”
I shiver, but I can’t say I completely disagree with the sentiment.
“But I wanted to ask what you would have me do.”
A sick feeling settles in my stomach. It’s never been up to me to decide a punishment.
I think on it. “Send them to your mountains to mine for that ore you speak of. They were lazy and greedy and chose thievery instead of honest work. I can think of nobetter punishment than a life of hard manual labor. Death is too easy for them.”
“I will ask your father. Ultimately he will make the final decision.”
I think of Marigold, still fighting off the effects of the poison. “Oh, and Lord Rigel? Give them each a good dose of maid-of-the-shadows and see how they like it.”
He smiles at that.
CHAPTER 20
Yuven’s thick gloves protect my hands as I pour hot oil through a mesh sieve, straining out bits of herbs, twigs, and flowers. The heat permeates the leather, and it feels as if the sheepskin is drawing all the moisture from my skin. I pull them off as quickly as possible. I shaved the beeswax before I started, and I now stir it into the oil. Slowly, the yellow shavings melt into the viscous liquid.
“How are you doing, Pippa?” Yuven asks from the other side of the workbench.
He’s preparing a large batch of pain relieving tea. I’m still too squeamish to work with the potentially poisonous herbs, so I’m stuck with salves. I don’t mind really, even if it is hot work. It’s better than embroidery.
I try not to think of the purpose behind all this preparation. Yuven and the palace physician are preparing for the worst. Prince Espin is doing well, but he’s slathered almost head to toe in burn salve. He smells like a swamp.
“It’s fine.” I flick the wooden spoon a little too fast, andhot salve splatters my hand. I yelp and wipe it off on my skirt.
“Ginna was here this morning.” Yuven’s tone is a little too nonchalant.
I raise my eyes, pinning him with my gaze. “And?”
“We were wondering where Archer has disappeared to.”
Not wanting to burn myself again, I look back to my work. “Off to help a friend.”
“What friend?”
I pour the salve into small tins. Once it cools, it will be a thick yellow glop—perfect for smearing over wounds to keep away infection.
“How would I know?” I ask. “And why do you care?”
He shrugs.
Yuven is infuriating.
“Are you finished?” he asks. “Begin on the burn salve. We’ve almost used it all on Espin.”
“Do you think all this will be necessary?” I ask, feeling sick. “Do you think everyone will come back wounded?”
He doesn’t answer me because a knight bursts into the hot, little room. “We’ve got two more.”
“Who?” I grab the worn worktable and dig my fingers in.
