CHAPTER FIVE: Royal Physician

Baila felt quite uncomfortable as she walked alongside Aaron, the captain of the guard. He kept his distance from her like she was a kind of virus that had no cure but his right hand was always on the hilt of his sword. Baila was scared to even sneeze. The slightest movement from her could cause Aaron to cut her down. She was sure the captain would not hesitate to kill her.

As they walked further and further away from Nolan's room, Baila wondered why Nolan had asked her about the spell. She had been dying. Surely, she couldn't have cast a spell. She couldn't rule out the possibility though. But her necklace had been around her neck the entire time she was drowning. Besides, she didn't know any spells to call out to a werewolf or any other creature.

Mother!

No. It couldn't be. Her demon had been dormant but the other part of her wasn't. She had also been underwater. That was where the siren part of her thrived. Could that side of her have called out to Nolan?

She had never used her siren power before or even tried to tap into it. Then again, she hadn't practised any spells but whenever she took off her necklace, she knew exactly what to do. One thing bothered her so much, it was starting to sour her mood. She decided to ask Aaron about it.

"Your King. Does he have a mate?"

Aaron paused to glare briefly at her before quickening his steps.

"It is not your concern," he snapped.

Baila shrugged, she hadn't expected much from him anyways. She hoped Nolan didn't have a mate, otherwise, she would feel awful about the kiss.

Three large portraits on the wall at her right hand drew her attention and she stopped walking so she could admire them. The height of each portrait was twice the length of a full-grown man.

The first portrait was a picture of the former queen. The jewelled crown on her head gave it away. She had long brown hair with golden eyes. The off-shoulder gown she wore gave Baila the perfect view of the birthmark that run from beneath her jaw to the skin right above her breast.

Next to the queen's portrait was the lycan king's, Nolan's father. He stood tall in his blue and gold armour. He had a sword in front of him and his hands were tightly wrapped around the hilt of the sword. He had hair as black as the night and bright blue eyes like Nolan's.

The last portrait was that of the queen, the king and little Nolan. Baila guessed that Nolan was around six years old when the portrait was painted. The king and Nolan had huge smiles on their faces but the queen had a smirk that only spelt mischief.

Baila sighed, accepting the fact that she couldn't keep ignoring the suffocating presence of Aaron behind her.

"They were happy before one of your kind sent them off to their deaths," Aaron said.

"You drove a dagger into our backs. We're still bleeding," Baila replied. The werewolves had betrayed the witches. The king and queen might not have been responsible but they did nothing about it either.

Aaron turned down a dark hallway and Baila followed after him. He yanked two dusty curtains open after they had taken a few steps. Where was he taking her? How far away did Aaron want her from Nolan?

Two huge painted glass windows gave way for light to penetrate them and illuminate their path. The first window had a painting of six howling wolves and the moon. The second window had a painting of three women with their hands lifted to the moon.

Baila knew both paintings. They illustrated the peace, unity and bond between the werewolves and the witches. Creatures born from the same goddess. That bond was broken now, it had been broken for over a century.

The witches had once been healers for the werewolves. They taught the werewolves how to craft herbs and what plants got rid of rashes the quickest. The witches taught the werewolves how to dress wounds and how to love their mates. All that was gone.

One stupid mistake of a witch had cost them everything and Baila had gone and repeated the same mistake. Baila sighed, studying the hallway they were walking through. It was dusty and covered in cobwebs. She doubted if anyone came there.

Aaron unlocked the door and kicked it open. That wasn't a good sign.

The room was filthy and everything was covered in cobwebs. The broken bottles of elixirs and mouldy spell books told Baila all she needed to know. The room had belonged to a witch.

"I'm sure you have guessed it by now. This room belonged to a witch. She was the royal healer a hundred years ago. It is yours for three nights," Aaron said, yanking open the tattered curtains facing the bed.

Sunlight spewed into the room, landing directly on the bed. It would look even more beautiful when the moon shone through the window.

"Thank you," Baila smiled sincerely.

Aaron merely nodded and walked out.

Baila looked around the room. She did not know where to start. She decided to start with the bedsheets.

By nighttime, Baila's bones were aching and groaning. A woman had come by with a broom, rags, a mop, a bucket of water and fresh sheets and clothes. Baila had done her best to clean up the room with the supplies she was given. She had dusted and swept and mopped the floors. She had gotten rid of all the pungent bottles of elixirs and the sheets and old clothes she found. She had killed eight rats and nine cockroaches and was still on the lookout for a mouse. Perhaps, she would keep the mouse.

Baila let out a long heavy breath, falling back into the clean sheets of the bed. The room was sparkling clean now. Behind her bed, there was a locked door. She tried to open it several times but was too exhausted to put any strength into kicking down the door.

Baila decided to ask Nolan for the key or Aaron if she ever saw any of them again.

A knock on the door sent goosebumps up Baila's hands. She was uncomfortable with the room but she didn't have much of a choice.

"Come in," she called out, taking off her boots and settling properly in the middle of the bed.

The woman who had brought the broom and cleaning supplies earlier on walked in. Her red hair was braided and tied with a ribbon. She wore a long white dress and carried a bag with her.

"I came to inspect your wounds," she said "I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Sara"

"It's fine," Baila brushed it off and sat up in bed.

The cut on her stomach was bleeding again and it hurt like the twelve hells.

Sara smiled, sitting behind Baila on the bed. "I've heard a lot about you from Nolan," she said, cleaning the wounds on Baila's back with alcohol.

Baila hissed but sat still so she would not make Sara's work difficult.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear anything about me from Aaron," Baila replied sarcastically.

Sara laughed, applying a cool salve on Baila's wounds. She moved to sit in front of Baila and started working on the cut on her stomach.

"My father was the royal physician. My uncle became royal physician after my father's death and then when it was my cousin's turn, she run off with a man she met at the blood moon festival. It's been two years and she hasn't sent a letter or anything to let me know she's fine. So, I have to fill in her role as both royal physician and councilwoman. Forgive me for sharing too much. I'm nervous but I want to make you comfortable. I swear I'm usually not like this." Sara smiled sadly, applying the salve on the raw skin on Baila's stomach.

Baila smiled at her. No one had wanted to make her feel comfortable in a long time. Not even her mother. Baila pushed away thoughts of the witches and her mother and focused on Sara instead. She felt bad for her. Sara didn't seem too happy about taking over both positions.

"What would you have liked to be?" Baila asked.

Baila met Sara's green eyes and she saw a spark of excitement as the royal physician spoke.

"I wanted to be a dancer. I wanted to travel with one of those groups of dancers that go around the realm entertaining people,"

Baila laughed, "You don't seem like the type who could dance,"

Sara chuckled.

When they quieted down, Baila noticed how close she and Sara sat. They were just as close as she and Nolan had been a few hours ago when he kissed her. Baila blinked, stepping out of bed to put some distance between them.

"I'll leave you to rest. You'll need it" Sara cleared her throat. Baila watched her pack up her bag and head for the door.

She didn't know what came over her but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Stay. Please. It is a new place so far away from home and this room scares me. Could you spend the night here? I know we don't know each other and I'm a witch and___" Baila rambled

"I'll be back. I need to change out of these clothes," Sara sighed, cutting in before Baila could make a fool of herself.

Once Sara left, Baila changed into the thin black silky nightgown Sara had added to the clothes she brought for her. Somehow, Baila was able to sense Sara's presence and open the door before she could knock.

Sara's face flushed when she saw Baila and Baila blamed the nightgown. It had a low cut that revealed her breasts and it was transparent enough that anyone could see her skin beneath the material.

"I'm sorry about the clothes," Sara apologized.

"It's fine," Baila assured her. She wasn't into oversized nightgowns that made her hot in the middle of the night. "Have you ever worn it before?" she asked Sara, pointing to the black nightgown she was wearing.

"Goddess. No," Sara laughed, settling beneath the sheets. "It belonged to my cousin"

"She had great taste," Baila hummed blowing the candles and laying beside Sara.

"Could you tell me about the former king and queen?" Baila asked after a few moments of silence passed. She did not think she would be able to fall asleep tonight.

She was all smiles as Sara's soft voice filled the room with tales of Nolan's parents. Yet, the strange sense of foreboding would not go away.