She tore off a chunk of bread, speaking as she did so. “Yeah. Not in a nasty way though. We’re magus, after all.”
We were. Channeling magic amplified everything, and libido was no exception. “I won’t have a queue of jealous magus lining up to hurt me?”
“I didn’t say that.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, though. I’ve got your back.”
My attention wandered through the rest of the chamber. Sven caught my eye and winked from across the room. I rolled my eyes and fixed my focus back on my cousin. “How did you get on with borage in the end?”
An esteemed had given me a tour of the apothecary learning center and I’d only had a few minutes to catch up with Rooke while there. Long enough to gauge her complete disinterest in borage.
She sighed. “As good as always. I’m just not interested in plants.”
“Only the ones in the Greenhouse of Fun that Serene told me was filled with dangerous and poisonous varieties.”
Rooke’s gaze flew to mine.
I bit my lip against a smile. “Yeah, I noticed that.”
She winced. “Right. I’m being super obvious. I would love to get in that place. I’m not allowed to until I understand the basics. Like stupid borage. Which interests me about zero.”
If my mother had been in charge of apothecary, Rooke would’ve been in the Greenhouse of Fun already. She’d been all about following your magical interest. “I don’t think I’ve told you yet, that before coming here, I worked in a circus.”
Her eyes widened. “No way! I have a The Greatest Showman poster in my room. You did that stuff?”
“Not the cool aerial stuff, but I worked there for five years. How did you get hold of a The Greatest Showman poster? There are no stores close to here, right?”
She lowered her voice. “Summoned them. Don’t tell. Varden thinks I found them.”
Varden probably didn’t think that at all. “My lips are sealed. You summoned something you’ve never seen before? That’s crazy magic, Rooke.”
“Unlike apothecary, divination is something I understand.”
I was the opposite. By design.
“Tell me more about the circus,” she urged.
I shrugged a shoulder. “The hours are huge, and repeating the same show over and over can wear on you. I used to take borage to guard against adrenal stress, to purify the blood. The humans there knew I understood medicinal plant uses, so the strongman comes to me one time. He’s worn out, got a cough, and looking flushed with fever. He wants something to help. I give him some borage, no problem, and I tell him to just put three grams in his food or in hot water each day until he feels better.” I propped my chin on my elbow. “Anyway, strongman decides that if he takes more than I’ve suggested, he’ll feel better. He triples the dose.”
Rooke gasped and leaned in. “What happened?”
“Well, it helped with the fever. You can probably guess part of what happened?”
She considered that. “He sweated too much?”
“Did he ever. You’d think he’d gone swimming. Huge, hairy man. Add in profuse sweating.”
Rooke choked on laughter. “Gross. Super gross. What else happened?”
“Well, borage increases urine flow.”
“He was on the toilet all day?”
“He would’ve made it to the toilet. If borage wasn’t also a sedative.”
She covered her mouth with both hands. “No. Of course! That’s the only thing I can instinctually tell about it.”
Strongman had peed the bed in a bad way. And he’d sweated so much that he’d been sipping at water to rehydrate for days after. “You betcha. And that is the story of Borage and the Strongman.”
She chuckled. “That’s hilarious.”