Page 53 of The Orc's Promised Bride

Ulric’s massive hand engulfed Jessamin’s pale one, his thumb stroking her skin with surprising gentleness. When he looked up at Jana, his eyes were dark with pain.

“What do you need?” he asked hoarsely.

“I need my herbs,” she said, turning to him.

Before he could ask what to bring her, the door burst open and a healer entered, his arms full of bottles and pouches. He started to order them out, but Ulric’s growl stopped him in his tracks.

“Lady Jana is in charge,” Ulric commanded. “She knows how to help the queen.”

“I need fresh water, clean cloths, and a mortar and pestle,” she told the servants, then turned to him. “In the garden, there’s a small patch of purple flowers near the stone wall. Bring me as many roots as you can find, and look for white mushrooms growing at the base of the oak tree.”

Her fingers traced patterns in the air as she described the other herbs she needed. He recognized several of them from their time in the woods and did his best to memorize the others.

CHAPTER 26

Jana’s heart ached as she checked on Jessamin again. Her breathing had grown more labored, her chest barely rising with each shallow breath. The years she’s spent studying herbs had been her way of escape, of rebuilding her life. But now it might save her friend’s life.

“Clear that table,” she ordered, and the servants jumped to obey as Ulric watched her. His face was etched in harsh lines, his eyes filled with desperate hope.

A servant appeared with the items she’d requested and she positioned them on the cleared table, taking comfort in the familiar process. But then she glanced at Jessamin’s still form, noting the blue tinge to her lips. Time was running out.

“Your Majesty, I’ll need honey if you have it. And wine - the strongest you have.”

The king barked orders and more servants scattered. She dampened a cloth and pressed it to Jessamin’s forehead, monitoring her pulse. It was thready but still there.

Lothar burst back into the room, his arms full of plants, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she started sorting through them, her fingers moving with practiced efficiency as she separated leaves from stems and roots. He’d brought everything she requested, but she also discovered an unfamiliar herb mixed in with the others - small white flowers with silvery stems that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. She started to set it aside, but something made her pause and lay it back down.

Her hands threatened to tremble as she poured steaming water into the bowl. The familiar scent of herbs filled the air, grounding her as she mentally reviewed the antidote recipe. These weren’t quite the same ingredients she was used to working with, but the properties should be similar enough.

She crushed the purple flowers in the mortar and pestle, releasing their potent oils. As she sprinkled them into the water, an unexpected sense of peace washed over her. Her movements became more fluid, more certain, as if guided by invisible hands.

“Three leaves,” she whispered to herself, reaching for another herb, but something made her pause. Something told her that four would be better, and she found herself adding the extra leaf without questioning why. The liquid turned a deep, rich purple, exactly the color she somehow knew it should be.

The calm certainty flowing through her felt foreign yet familiar, like a forgotten memory suddenly recalled. She continued working, letting this strange intuition guide her hands as she adjusted quantities and timing.

She found herself reaching for the white flowers, her fingers tingling as she touched the delicate blooms. Without understanding why, she knew exactly how much to use - three flowers, stripped of their stems, added just as the mixture beganto simmer. She knew it was a risk, adding an unfamiliar herb, but a strangely familiar voice whispered in her mind: “Add it.”

Her hand trembled as she reached for the shimmering flowers, but the moment they touched the heated mixture, a pure, clean scent filled the air. The deep purple liquid cleared, becoming crystalline with hints of silver, like moonlight caught in glass. Her breath caught at the transformation - she’d never seen anything like it before.

The scent reminded her of morning dew and spring rain, fresh and alive. Her earlier uncertainty faded as she watched the liquid settle into a perfect clarity.

With steady hands now, she carefully poured the mixture through a fine cloth into a delicate cup, making sure not to waste a single drop. The liquid seemed to glow faintly as it filtered through, though she wasn’t quite sure if she was imagining it.

She carried the cup to Jessamin’s bedside, where Ulric still clutched his wife’s hand. Jessamin’s skin had taken on a greyish tinge, her breathing becoming more labored. Her heart clenched at the sight, but the rightness of the antidote gave her confidence.

“Will you lift her so I can administer this?”

Ulric obeyed immediately, gently slipping his arm behind Jessamin’s shoulders and lifting her carefully against his shoulder. The movement caused Jessamin’s head to loll back, her skin so pale it was nearly translucent.

“She needs to drink all of it,” she whispered as she brought the cup to Jessamin’s lips. The liquid touched them but didn’t pass through - Jessamin remained completely unresponsive.

She gave Ulric a desperate look and saw determination replace the fear in his eyes. He leaned closer to his wife, his voice deep and commanding. “Drink, my love.”

Jessamin’s lips parted, accepting the antidote. Jana carefully tipped the cup, making sure not to pour too fast. Each swallow seemed to take forever, but gradually the level in the cup lowered.

When only a small amount remained, Jessamin’s head suddenly grew heavy against her supporting hand. Her eyes fluttered briefly, then closed as she went limp in Ulric’s arms. He gathered her closer, cradling her against his chest as carefully as if she were made of spun glass.

Her fingers tightened on the nearly empty cup as she watched Jessamin’s chest rise and fall, praying it had been enough. Her breathing seemed slightly deeper, but she couldn’t be sure if it was just wishful thinking.

---