Page 108 of A Pact of Blood

“Did you see how well she climbed?”

Just as my spirits start to lift, a flatter voice cuts through the others, pitched loud enough that I think the man is hoping I’ll overhear. “That was all pretending. They’ll have given her an easier challenge so she could put on a little show for us.”

The remark rankles my pride. If he had any idea—it’s his wretched emperor who’s had the pampering in these challenges. They didn’t see the bruises gouged into my shoulder from the wrenching of the harness; they didn’t feel the wind tugging me toward a fatal fall as I neared the top.

I can’t say any of that, though. I can only walk on as if I didn’t hear, pretending I also don’t hear the guffaws and whispers that sound like hushed agreement with the criticism.

How much do I need to do before they consider me a worthy empress?

Bianca rests her hand on my forearm. “Don’t pay them any mind. Most of them are louts anyway.”

As if I don’t know that a great deal of her fellow nobles—maybe even she herself—still have similar doubts about me. As if I don’t have just as much to fear from this woman who’s trying to be my friend.

I wet my lips, searching for the right thing to say, and my gaze catches on a face just beyond the guards.

For just a second, the woman’s skin seems to shimmer. I haven’t called on my godlen, but I feel Elox’s soothing presence in the effect. It emphasizes her one reddened eye, the lid turned pinkish too.

My gift itches at me automatically—to concentrate on her and see what could heal her ailment.

I hesitate, considering the matter.

Yes. It would be a different kind of show, but no one could doubt I’m performing it through my own talents.

I step closer to the guards, raising my hand to catch the woman’s attention. “My good lady, could I have a word?”

Her expression stutters with surprise, but she turns toward me. A man who might be her husband sets his hand on her shoulder as she dips into an awkward bow. “I’m at your service, Your Imperial Highness.”

I offer a smile to reassure both her and the guards between us whose shoulders I’m peering over. “I was hoping I might be at yours. I don’t know how far word has spread about my gift—I’m dedicated to Elox, with his blessing to create remedies for all sorts of afflictions. It looks as if your eye has been troubling you.”

The woman’s hand darts to her ruddy eye as if to hide it, her head drooping. “I’ve seen the herbalist—nothing he gave me worked. We’re saving up to hire a medic.”

She speaks almost apologetically, as if she’s afraid she’s offended me with her appearance.

I keep my smile in place and speak as soothingly as I can. “I might be able to give you some relief sooner. Would you let me work my gift for you? The magic won’t affect you at all—I can only tell you what should heal the malady.”

The man’s eyes widen. “We wouldn’t ask Your Imperial Highness to?—"

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I’m asking you. It would make me happy to lift whatever suffering I can.”

As we’ve talked, many of the civilians around the couple have paused in their celebration to watch. Some of the other nobles drift closer on my side of the ring as well.

I’d better make this agoodshow.

The woman hesitates for a moment longer and thenoffers me a shy smile. “If you can see a way to fix it… I’d love to have it gone.”

Inhaling slowly, I focus on the redness of her eye, the hints of inflammation that reveal her malady. What would remove those symptoms and set her features back to rights?

The tickle of images that flow through my head reveal why the herbalist’s typical remedies wouldn’t have worked. From what I can tell, it’s a combination of problems—a minor injury and some kind of illness that the treatments have only partly held at bay. Without addressing both in combination, the condition has lingered.

“All right,” I say. “You’ll need some garlic, brackberries, and willow bark, a little bit of everslip, and some brindle ash sap. Do you think you’d be able to find all that?”

The man’s expression turns pensive before brightening as he nods. “We’ll manage it.”

“Good. The preparation is important too. Let me explain it as well as I can.”

I lay out what needs to be mashed and boiled and mixed, how long the resulting tincture should be left to rest, and how to apply it afterward. Toward the end of my instructions, my confidence wavers.

“I’ve never used my gift purely by instruction before. I sometimes see more subtle steps as I’m brewing—if I’d known and I could have prepared the concoction ahead of time for you?—”

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