Chapter 23: The Unpredictable One

Third POV

Ysabella woke up with a start in the early hours of the morning, her chest heaving and tears streaming down her face. The nightmare had been vivid, cruel, the same one that visited her far too often.

Samantha sinking into thick snow, her fingers reaching up, her mouth open in a silent scream. Dying alone. Ysa clutched the blankets as sobs racked her body, the image burning behind her eyelids.

Emrich woke instantly, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. He did not ask what she had dreamed. He already knew. He held her against his chest, his hand stroking her hair in slow, soothing motions while she cried.

"It is alright," he murmured. "I am here. You are safe."

She cried for a long time, her tears soaking into his shirt. When the sobs finally quieted into shaky breaths, he spoke again.

"I am worried about you, Ysa," he said softly. "You have been carrying this weight for three years. What happened to Samantha was tragic, but you cannot blame yourself forever."

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes red and swollen. "Three years ago tonight. If I had told the King that she was running away, I could have stopped her. She would still be alive."

Emrich shook his head gently. "Samantha wanted to leave. She made that choice herself. No one could have forced her to stay, not even you. It was not your fault."

She wanted to believe him. She had wanted to believe him every time he said it. But the guilt was a heavy chain wrapped around her heart, and no amount of kind words seemed to break it.

"Her mate bond with the King faded," Ysa whispered. "They declared her dead. She really is gone."

Emrich kissed her forehead and held her tighter. "You are a good person, Ysabella. A good sister to her memory. But you cannot let her death destroy you. She would not have wanted that."

Ysa closed her eyes and let his warmth seep into her bones. "I will be alright," she said finally. "I just need time."

They stayed like that until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains.

Later that morning, Ysabella made her way to the castle library. As the educator of the noble children, she had a full schedule, and the distraction was welcome. The children were already seated at their desks, their curious eyes watching her as she walked in.

"Today we are continuing with our reading lessons," she announced, settling into her chair. "Open your books to page forty seven."

The morning passed peacefully. The children were well behaved, and Ysa found comfort in the rhythm of teaching. For a few hours, she did not think about Samantha or the nightmare or the guilt that followed her like a shadow.

Then a maid entered the library, her footsteps hurried. "Lady Ysabella, a message from the King. He asks that you select the best medical books from the collection and deliver them to Lady Hecate's study. She is a visiting specialist, and she requires them immediately."

Ysa sighed softly but nodded. She excused herself from the children, instructing them to practice their reading silently, and made her way to the medical section of the library. She pulled book after book from the shelves, stacking them in her arms until she could barely see over the top.

The walk to Hecate's study was long, and by the time she reached the door, her arms were aching. She nudged the door open with her shoulder and stepped inside.

The study was large and cluttered, filled with strange instruments and bottles of dried herbs. Hecate stood near the window, a striking woman with sharp features and an upturned nose that gave her an air of arrogance.

She was speaking with several healers from the castle, their white robes marking their rank. Emrich stood nearby, observing the introductions with a polite expression.

Ysabella approached the table and set the books down with a quiet thump.

Hecate turned at the sound. Her eyes swept over Ysa from head to toe, assessing her like a piece of merchandise. Then she pointed directly at her.

"You. I want her as my assistant."

The room went silent. The healers exchanged confused glances. Ysabella blinked, certain she had misheard.

Emrich stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "Lady Hecate, this is my wife, Ysabella. She is not a healer. She does not hold that rank."

Hecate waved her hand dismissively, as if his words were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "I do not care about rank. I like the way she holds books. That is enough for me. She will assist me."

She reached out and plucked the top book from Ysa's arms, holding it with a theatrical flourish. Then she stepped back, her lips curled into a smug smile. She did not offer to help Ysa with the remaining books still stacked in her arms.

Ysabella stood there, struggling to keep the pile balanced, while Hecate flipped through the pages of the book she had taken, her expression one of comical curiosity.

Emrich looked at his wife. Ysa met his gaze with wide eyes that clearly said, "Help me." She did not want this. She had no training, no interest in being anyone's assistant. But Emrich sighed and turned to Hecate.

"Very well. If that is what you want, she will be your assistant."

"Perfect!" Hecate closed the book with a loud snap and tossed it onto the table. "You are all dismissed."

The healers bowed and filed out of the room. Emrich walked over to Ysa and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I am sorry," he whispered. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

Ysabella stared at the closed door, then at Hecate, who had already turned her back and was rummaging through a collection of jars and potions. The woman did not seem to care that she had just upended Ysa's entire day.

"Look," Ysa began, setting the remaining books on the table. "I am not a healer. I have never been a healer. I do not know anything about—"

Hecate cut her off without looking up. "Open the potions book. Go to the section on strengthening muscles. Read the instructions to me."

Ysabella pressed her lips together, irritation bubbling in her chest. The woman was arrogant. Demanding. But arguing seemed pointless. She pulled a chair toward the table, sat down, and opened one of the medical books.

She found the section and began to read aloud.

Hecate worked in silence, mixing herbs and liquids, occasionally grunting in acknowledgment. Ysa read and read, her voice steady, while the strange woman moved through the study like a storm.

It was going to be a long day.