004: Garden reception

Nora's POV

Three mornings of training were behind me, and my hands finally knew their business. Twelve plants by touch, each with its purpose. Old Nora's muscle memory had woken all the way up, and Maren had done the pulling.

"You're a really fast learner," Maren said, wiping dirt from her hands. "At least, you won't embarrass yourself when the need arises."

[Task complete. Three medicinal plants identified.]

[Redemption points +2000.]

The reception was held in the central courtyard beneath an iron trellis wrapped in ivy. Every servant in the estate lined the walls, and the kingdom's minor lords and advisors filled the benches. Everyone who was someone in this world was at the event.

Cassandra sat beside Dorian at the head table wearing a white gown. Her golden hair was pinned up. She had one hand on his arm, the other on the back of his chair, like she was signing the deed on both him and the kingdom. The confidence she had on her face was almost admirable.

I, on the other hand, wore the only clean dress I had. Plain grey, with no jewelry, hair pinned back with a strip of cloth. A healer's daughter from the border with no business at this table. Which suited me fine.

The doors at the far end of the courtyard opened, and the room went quiet.

Lord Aldric Ashcroft was wheeled in.

Two attendants helped him into a high-backed chair at the center of the head table. He was thin, grey-skinned, white-haired, and had hands that trembled on the armrests. But his eyes were sharp, the same grey as his grandson's, and they moved across the room like he was counting every face.

His gaze found me.

"So you are the Whitmore girl." His voice was thin but steady. "Your father pulled me back from the edge of death thirty years ago. I have not forgotten."

"My lord." I bowed my head. "My father spoke of you often, and always with great respect."

Lord Aldric's face softened by a fraction, and that fraction was worth more than every point the system had given me so far.

Cassandra leaned toward Dorian and whispered something. Dorian's jaw tightened.

"I hear there was an incident on your first night," Aldric said. "Something about a porcelain attack and a great deal of tears."

Cassandra's chin lifted.

"There was a misunderstanding, my lord," I said. "I hope it hasn't caused Lady Hale any lasting distress."

Cassandra's mouth opened. She hadn't expected me to deflect and leave her no villain to defend herself against.

Aldric studied me for a few seconds. His hand reached for his wine glass, and the glass tilted. Wine splashed across the tablecloth. An attendant rushed forward, but Aldric waved him off with an irritated hand.

Then the coughing started.

Deep. Wet. The kind of cough that came from lungs losing a slow war. His attendants hovered uselessly. A physician stepped forward with a small clay vial.

I was already on my feet.

"Nora." Cassandra's voice came sharp from the head table. "Sit down. Lord Aldric's physicians are the best in the kingdom and have been treating him since before you could walk. You're merely a useless healer's daughter with no skill."

I looked at the healer and the vial in his hand. "Lavender syrup for a lung filling with fluid?" I said, loud enough for the whole courtyard to hear. "No wonder he gets worse every month."

"You know nothing of our healers." Cassandra's eyes glittered. "A border girl who grew up chasing goats does not instruct seasoned court physicians."

"I don't need to know your healers. I need to know the body in that chair."

"Nora!" Dorian's voice came low from the head of the table, every word tight. "Even if your dead father was a healer, you're not a physician. I would let him die sooner than I let you touch him. Return to your seat!"

"My lord. If I return to my seat, your grandfather will certainly die in his."

The whole courtyard sucked in a breath. The silence was choking.

"I'll make you a deal my Lord. If I'm right, I get to stay. But if I'm wrong, I'll leave the kingdom immediately. He loses nothing if I am right, but Cassandra gets what she wants if I'm wrong."

Aldric was coughing harder.

Dorian's jaw worked. His eyes went from his grandfather to me to Cassandra and back to me.

"Deal. But you said it yourself. Don't blame me when you lose."

I pulled a small cloth pouch out of my sleeve and unfolded it. I poured a spoonful of golden paste, prepared that morning with herbs from the garden. I had come to this reception knowing exactly what was going to happen in it.

I knelt beside Aldric's chair.

"Do not lean him back," I said to the attendant trying to recline the chair. "He needs to stay upright. Tilting back pools the fluid."

The attendant moved aside.

"Drink this, my lord," I said, close enough to Aldric's ear that only he could hear. "Swallow slowly."

Aldric opened his mouth. I slipped the paste in. He swallowed. Then again when I offered the second.

The coughing eased and his breathing steadied. Colour crept back into his face.

The courtyard was dead silent.

Cassandra stood abruptly, her chair scraping the stone floor. She stood behind Dorian's chair, her face turning red with anger.

Aldric looked at me again when the coughing eased.

"Your father's hands," he said quietly. "I would know them anywhere."

[Task complete. Lord Aldric's approval secured.]

[Redemption points +10000.]

[Dorian Ashcroft's affection: 3%.]

"Nora." Aldric's voice carried across the silent courtyard. "You will visit me in my chambers tomorrow morning. I have questions about your father's methods, and I have an announcement to make that this house will want to hear."

Cassandra's fingers curled around the back of Dorian's chair. Her knuckles were white.

The reception wound down fast after that. Lords bowed to Aldric before departing. Cassandra left on Dorian's arm, her smile tight.

I was halfway to the courtyard gate when his voice came from behind me.

"Nora."

I stopped.

Dorian stood a few paces behind me, the courtyard almost empty now. Cassandra was nowhere in sight.

"You carried that medication into my grandfather's reception. You prepared the medicine before any of us knew he would need it."

"Yes."

"How did you know he would have an episode tonight?"

"My father taught me to always be ready to lend a helping hand. Your grandfather's lungs have been drowning for a long time. Tonight was obvious to anyone who knew what to listen for."

He studied me. The grey eyes gave nothing away.

"And the physician. You named her remedy before she opened the vial."

"Lavender syrup smells like lavender syrup, my lord. It soothes the cough but it doesn't treat the underlying cause."

There was a long pause while he weighed what I had just said.

"You're not entirely useless after all.”