Chapter 8: No Time

The supply house smelled of dried herbs and dust.

I handed the list to the man behind the counter, my fingers still aching from how tightly I had gripped the paper on the walk over. He scanned it, frowned, and told me the bad news without looking up.

"Only three of these are in stock."

My stomach tightened. Three. Out of twelve. I stood there, my heart thundering hard against my ribcage, as Ms. Darkmoon's horrid scowl surfaced in my mind. The man at the counter didn't even seem cruel about it. He was just stating facts, and that somehow made it worse.

I swallowed. "What about the rest?"

He shrugged. "Some you'll have to get from the outside market. One of them only grows in the castle gardens. The rest… I don't know. Might be out of season."

I paid for the three he had. The pouch of cash Ms. Darkmoon had given me felt noticeably lighter when I left. Half was gone on a quarter of the list. Nine herbs still to find, and barely enough money left to buy one of them properly. I stepped back into the bright afternoon light, the sun already higher than I wanted it to be, and felt the first real thread of dread settle in my chest.

This errand had never been meant to be easy. It had been designed to consume me.

The market was busy. Vendors shouted prices over each other. The smell of street food and fresh bread mixed with the sharper scent of herbs and spices. I moved through the stalls, list in hand, trying to haggle where I could. My voice came out steadier than I felt. I had watched Lucan's servants bargain for years. I knew the rhythm. Lower the price, smile, and act as if you can walk away.

Easy enough, right?

Wrong.

I managed to shave a few dollars off here and there, but it still wasn’t enough. The pouch grew lighter with every transaction. My feet ached, and my neck burned under the scarf.

Soon, the money Ms. Darkmoon gave me finished.

I stood in front of a stall selling silver jewelry, my hand hovering over a pair of simple earrings. My own earring, one of the last things I had brought from my old life, felt heavy in my pocket. It had been a gift from my mother years ago, before everything with Lucan, before I became Luna. Before I became nothing.

I sold it.

The vendor gave me enough to finish the market list. I took the herbs and walked away without looking back. The loss sat heavily in my chest, but I pushed it down. Survival first, everything else could wait.

The castle gardens were quiet. Sunlight filtered through the trees as I searched for the last herb on the list, the one that only grew here. My legs burned from all the walking, and my back ached. Even the baby felt heavier today.

I found it. The very last one. It was a single small plant tucked near the edge of a flowerbed. I dug it up carefully, roots and all, and placed it in my basket.

The sun was already low in the sky.

I had spent the entire day running errands that consumed me. Researching Dimitri's disease, the one thing that actually mattered, had not even begun. Fourteen days was all I had been given, and today had been stolen.

I turned to leave the garden and nearly collided with someone.

Alpha Dimitri’s Beta stood there, his height towering over mine, the scar at the corner of his left eye pulling tight as he offered a small, courteous smile.

"Scarlett Bane," he said, as if we were old acquaintances meeting by chance. "I hoped I might find you. I never introduced myself properly. I am Beta Petru."

My stomach dropped. I took an instinctive step back, head lowering before I could stop it. This was the man who had sentenced me to death. The man who had looked at me on the execution platform and seen nothing but a threat to be removed. Now he stood in front of me in the garden, polite and calm, as if that moment had never happened.

"I wanted to thank you," he continued, his voice oddly warm. "For saving the Alpha's life. I never knew he was sick."

The words alone almost gave me a heart attack. Alpha Dimitri's warning from the night before rang in my ears. Speak of his illness to another soul, and I will execute you myself.

I lifted my head quickly, panic making my voice sharper than I intended. "He wasn't sick. He was poisoned. I made a foolish mistake in how I described things that night. I was frightened and simply wanted to survive."

Beta Petru watched me carefully. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he didn't press me on it. Instead, he said simply, "Very well. I would still like to thank you regardless. I hope we will see more of each other."

I hoped for exactly the opposite—the idea of Beta Petru seeking me out again sent a fresh wave of dread through me. I forced a polite nod and excused myself, basket clutched tight against my side.

By the time I reached the healers' wing, my legs were shaking with exhaustion. I handed the basket to Ms. Darkmoon and exhaled, the breath leaving me in a long, grateful rush. It was done and finally done.

She checked the contents, one herb at a time, her mouth pulling tighter with every item she inspected.

"You were too slow," she remarked. "This took you the entire day."

I opened my mouth to explain, but she had already stretched out her hand, palm up.

"Change," she said. "Give it to me."

I stared at her hand, confusion curdling into something sharper. "There is no change."

"Excuse me?"

"The eastern quarter only had three of the twelve herbs," I said, the words coming faster now, all the frustration of the day finding its way out at once. "I had to go to the market for the rest, and even then, the money you gave me wasn't enough. I had to make up the difference myself. There's nothing left to give back."

A few healers nearby had gone quiet, watching. I caught the shocked expression on one woman's face before she looked away. Another, older, standing near the far shelf, gave a small shake of her head. It was a warning, clear even without words. Don't. Not with her. Not here.

I remembered, too late, what I had promised myself only the day before. Keep my head down. Don't invite trouble.

Ms. Darkmoon's eyes had not moved from my face the entire time, daring me to keep arguing.

I reached into my pocket instead. The single dollar bill left over from the earring sale sat folded between my fingers. It was not enough to mean anything, but it was what I had. I held it out to her.

She looked at it, then laughed. It was that same dry, humorless sound from this morning, and then she shook her head.

"A liar yesterday," she cooed, "and a liar today."

I had nothing left to fight with. The anger that had flared a moment ago drained out of me all at once, leaving only a hollow, bone-deep tiredness. I let my hand fall.

"Can I access the medical texts?" I asked instead. "The healer's library. I need to look something up."

"The library closes at seven." She glanced at the clock mounted above the shelves, then back at me, something almost satisfied flickering behind her eyes. "It is several minutes past that now. Perhaps if you hadn't woken up so late this morning and wasted your day on a task I could have done myself in thirty minutes, you would have made it in time."

Heat rose up my throat, but I forced it down and forced a smile over it instead, the same smile I had worn for years in a different house, under a different kind of cruelty.

"Of course," I said. "Thank you."

She turned and walked away without another word. I left soon after, the empty basket swinging loose at my side, every part of me aching for rest I had not yet earned.

I walked through the corridors, my feet dragging over the floors, and took the main door into my room. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I allowed myself, for one brief moment, to believe the day might actually be over.

A shift of light through the connecting doorway told me otherwise.

Alpha Dimitri stood there, watching me with those green eyes that always seemed to hold me in place.

"The name," he said. "Do you have it?"