Page 150 of Settle Down, Princess

Chapter 86

Jessalyn

“Come in.”

If Desiree was trying to seem inconspicuous, she wasn’t doing a great job of it. She peered outside the door, looking up and down the street when we arrived, then ushered us in.

The hacking sound of a child coughing greeted us from the kitchen, then a thin wail. I rushed forward without thinking, pressing the back of my hand to the little boy’s forehead. He wailed even harder at the sight of a black clad stranger, which had me reaching into my pockets for the supplies I’d brought with me. Not dried turpentine leaves, not the salve my grandmother swore by, but… ah, sweeties. It didn’t look very good, the cellophane twist that had covered it when I bought them was now wrinkled and slightly grubby, but when I unwrapped it the child stopped crying.

“Sweeties?”

“For you, sweetheart,” I said, then turned to Desiree. “Do you have a kettle we can boil water in?”

“If you’re thinking of doing a good steaming, we’ve already tried that.” The woman looked worn down, the red of hair somehow faded slightly, though perhaps that was the low light. “I’ve been boiling gum leaves in the kettle and getting him to breathe them in.”

“Try these.”

I crunched one leaf up, the pungent oils released already filling the room.

“Oh gods…” Desiree jerked her head back and then once she recovered from her surprise, she breathed in experimentally. “That might just work.”

We were here to play a role in an assassination, that struck me as we busied around the kitchen. The child, Benny I found out, snuffled as he sucked at his sweet, while we found an old bowl and Desiree put the kettle on. I ground the turpentine leaves up to release more of their oils, which were released into the air as the hot water was poured over them. A tea towel was produced and put over the whining Benny’s head, but as he breathed the fumes in, the rattling in his chest seemed to loosen, resulting in greenish phlegm being spat into the sink as another coughing fit hit him.

“Much better out than in,” Selene said, then produced two jars with a flourish. “And this medicine will help stop the infection in your chest. It tastes terrible.”

“What? I don’t want that.” Benny shrank back against his mother. “Ma, don’t—”

“But this is honey,” Selene continued, shaking the other golden jar. “Sweeter than that lolly you’re sucking on. You want a spoon of this?” Benny started to shift closer. “Then medicine first.”

“You know how this will go,” Desiree said. “Sister Selene has given you medicine before.”

“It tastes horrible,” Benny said, flinching back.

“Then you’ll have something sweet to help it go down,” Selene replied. “Your choice.”

That was a curious turn of phrase. Children were offered only one choice in my homeland: obey your parents and your king or face consequences.

“What do you think?” Desiree asked her son.

Benny let out a huff, blowing a green snot bubble, then going to wipe it on his sleeve before Desiree got there with a handkerchief.

“Fine,” he grumbled once he was wiped clean. The boy opened his mouth obediently, but screwed his eyes tight as the spoon of medicine hit, swallowing quickly, then spluttering before shouting, “Honey! Honey!”

“Here you go.” Selene had another spoon laden with the sweet syrup pushed into his mouth before he could say much more.

“Thanks for this, Sister,” Desiree said, collecting the boy up in her arms. She jiggled him the way one might a baby, even though he was considerably bigger, but his head came to rest on her shoulder and his breathing started to even out.

“I’ll leave the medicine and the honey—”

“Oh, I can’t…” Desiree looked at Selene guiltily.

“The medicine comes from the sisterhood, not my father.”

“Ah, well…” Desiree nodded in thanks. “I appreciate it. I just need to put this boy down and hope he gets some sleep, but if you want to put the kettle back on, we can have a cup of tea and…”

Get down to business, that went unsaid. We nodded and moved to follow her orders, the water bubbling nicely by the time she returned.

“So…” Desiree put her hand on her hip and regarded the two of us, “what role do I need to play in the death of the king?”

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