She paused, glancing back.
"Don't tell anyone," he said. "Not about her faintness. Not about potions. Not today, of all days. If the wrong ears hear…they will turn it into a weapon before nightfall."
Her gaze held his for a long second.
"You think I go around airing her troubles like laundry?" she murmured in annoyance, and thensaid. "I'll tell no one who doesn't need to know. Which, as far as I can see, is you, me, Mack, and that great lump of fur." She nodded at Skoll. "And if anyone asks, she's resting because some people"—her eyes flashed—"don't know when to leave a girl alone in a strange castle."
Lucius inclined his head. "That will do."
Martha left.
Lucius waited only until the door closed before straightening. "I need something from my own stores," he said. "I'll return shortly."
Mack nodded. "I'll stay."
Lucius gave Skoll a brief, measuring look, then exited.
Mack moved closer to the bed, perching on the side opposite the wolf. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from Elissa's face.
"You pick the worst places to nap," he muttered.
Skoll huffed, as if agreeing.
A short time later, the door opened again and both Martha and Lucius came in—Martha carrying a steaming cup that smelled sharply herbal, Lucius with a small leather pouch and two stoppered glass vials.
"Sit her up," Martha said briskly.
Together, she and Lucius eased Elissa into a half-sitting position, propped against a pile of pillows. Her head lolled a little until Skoll shifted, pressing his body against her side in a steadying weight.
Lucius uncorked one of the small bottles, a narrow thing filled with a clear, faintly blue liquid.
"What's that?" Mack asked quietly.
"Wake-salts," Lucius said. "A concentrated distillation of frostmint and snaproot. It won't cure her, but it will pull her a little closer to the surface so she can swallow."
He held the bottle just under Elissa's nose and waited a heartbeat.
Elissa flinched faintly, her brows knitting as the sharp, almost icy scent hit her. Her eyelids fluttered, then lifted a fraction. Her gaze was glazed, unfocused, but not entirely empty.
"That's it," Martha murmured. "Come on, girl. Back to us."
Lucius pulled the vial away and nodded to Martha. She lifted the cup of tea.
"This is starthistle feverbrew," she said softly to Elissa, as if the girl could understand. "With a few extra things tossed in. You're going to drink it, and then you're going to sleep properly, not like this."
Lucius uncorked the second bottle and added a few careful drops of a thicker, amber liquid to the tea. The scent shifted—still bitter, but with a faint, clean sharpness beneath.
Mack watched, frowning. "And that?" he said under his breath.
"A dampening draught," Lucius replied, equally low. "In the south we call it Nullshade Tonic. It blunts lingering enchantments in the blood and lungs. Whatever she inhaled, this should pull its teeth."
Mack's eyebrows climbed. "You know a lot for a prince."
Lucius's mouth curved faintly. "I studied alchemy for three years in the Lyceum of Theralis. Before that, with our court apothecary. My tutors were very insistent that a future king understand exactly what could be slipped into his cup."
Mack stared at him. "You're an alchemist."
"A minor one," Lucius said. "I wouldn't trust myself to brew anything delicate without a proper stillroom. But this?" He nodded at the tea. "This I can manage."
Mack let out a low whistle. "Endora is going to hate that I like you."
Lucius huffed a quiet breath that might, in a kinder world, have been a laugh.
Martha carefully brought the cup to Elissa's lips.
"Small sips," she instructed. "Don't drown the girl."
Elissa swallowed once, twice, the bitter warmth of the brew sliding down with effort. Some of it dribbled at the corner of her mouth; Martha wiped it away with a cloth, patient as if feeding a child.
"Good," Lucius said quietly. "That will start working soon. She'll probably sleep deeply for a while, but when she wakes, the fog should be thinner. Headache, yes. Weakness, likely. But she should be herself."
Mack glanced at him. "And if she's not?"
Lucius's jaw tightened the smallest amount. "Then we'll adjust the dose. And I'll find whoever thought using Whisperbloom on a guest was a clever idea."
"Whisperbloom?" Martha repeated sharply. "That's what they used?"
Lucius nodded toward Elissa's discarded dress, still faintly scented on the chair. "That was the base. Whisperbloom oil, probably mixed with something to keep it from knocking her out completely. More control that way."
Mack's hands curled again. "You're sure?"
"I'd bet my place at dinner," Lucius said. "Faint, slow, docile, pliable… Whisperbloom does that to the mind. People forget to argue. Forget to resist. They don't sleep, they drift." He glanced at Elissa, his eyes darkening. "It's very fashionable among cowards."
"Then let's hope your Nullshade does what you say," Martha muttered, adjusting the blanket over Elissa. "Because if I find who did this, I won't need potions. I'll use my hands."
After about two hour later, Elissa woke with the heavy, cotton-thick feeling of someone surfacing from deep water.
Her head ached in a dull, steady way. Her tongue tasted bitter, as if she'd been chewing herbs in her sleep. For a moment she didn't know where she was—only that something warm and solid pressed against her side.
She blinked, and the blurred shape beside her resolved into Skoll, curled along the edge of the bed, his head on his paws, watching her with pale, worried eyes.
"Skoll," she whispered, her voice rough.
The wolf's ears twitched. He huffed softly, almost like a sigh.
A chair scraped.
Martha, who had been watching with her arms folded , saw her awake.
"Princess Elissa?" Martha leaned forward at once, eyes sharp now. "There you are. About time."
She stood and came to sit on the edge of the bed, one hand going automatically to Elissa's forehead, then her cheek.
"How long…?" Elissa murmured.
"Almost two hours," Martha said. "You missed nothing but some snoring pipes in the servants' corridor and half the kitchen yelling about a burned sauce." Her voice was brisk, but her shoulders had dropped in clear relief.
She helped Elissa sit up more fully, propping extra pillows behind her back when Elissa swayed.
"There," Martha said. "Slowly. The room's going to feel odd for a bit."
Elissa swallowed. Her throat felt dry, but her stomach not quite steady.
Martha reached for a cup on the bedside table and pressed it into her hands. "Water. Just a sip or two."
Elissa lifted it carefully. The coolness against her tongue was a blessing. She managed two small sips before a knock came at the door.