Page 49 of A Pact of Blood

Is she planning to simply chew on the stuff? And what’s even more odd— “Why didn’t you send your maid to collect some, then?”

Bianca lets out a dismissive sniff. “I can do a few things on my own. If even the empress roams the gardens of her own accord, why shouldn’t I?”

None of that really answers my question. In fact, her response gives me the distinct impression that she’s doing everything in her power to avoid answering directly.

I pause to take in her stance, the cant of her posture, the set of her face. A sharper suspicion prickles up inside me. “You’re in pain. What’s the matter?”

Rosemary has some mild pain-relieving effects. I wouldn’t have expected a court noble to be aware of that, but it’s a common enough folk remedy, so there’s no reason the vicerine couldn’t be.

And the rigidness of her body suggests she’s holdingherself very carefully to avoid provoking the problem into worse discomfort.

Bianca shakes her head and gives a crisp laugh that would probably leave most people embarrassed to have questioned her. “I’m perfectly fine. Why don’t you see to your own business and let me tend to mine?”

She’s being more antagonistic than the last couple of times I’ve spoken to her, which only convinces me more that she’s hiding something. She’s trying to get me to leave before I discover what.

If it’s a matter of her health, I don’t need her to tell me with words.

I focus on my gift and aim my honed attention at her body. What could I concoct that would heal what ails her?

The flurry of images that form behind my eyes make my pulse lurch. She’s concealing much more than I would have guessed. No wonder she’s barely moved since I came upon her—it must be taking all her self-control not to reveal her injuries.

I could leave her to it, even though the rosemary will merely dull a little pain, nothing more. She once left me for dead, beaten and broken in a hollow in the palace woods.

But every bit of my nature balks at the idea of abandoning a person in need. It isn’t as if she’s made any move to harm me since the trials were completed.

My voice softens. “You need a lot more than that rosemary will provide if you want to be back to rights soon. You know what my gift is—I have an ointment already prepared that will soothe some of your ills, and I can brew you a tonic that will help with the rest. Unless you’d rather go to the palace medics. They’d be even more able to?—”

“No,” Bianca interrupts, her face going even more taut. “It’s really not necessary. Any of it.”

What is she so worried about?

Her gaze flicks beyond me—toward my ever-present guards who’ll be hanging back by the hedges. The fact that she came to the garden herself despite her pains, that she wouldn’t have visited the medics… Is it something she doesn’t want any of the palace staff finding out about?

Nothing my gift showed me indicates any reason for such secrecy. Some part of her flesh is bruised and torn, and an infection is starting to set in.

If someone’s attacked her, shouldn’t they be brought to justice?

Every bit of her behavior shows that she wants to avoid even acknowledging she’s wounded. She obviously isn’t willing to admit it in front of company.

I’d rather not bully her into submission, but with difficult patients, it’s sometimes the lesser of two evils.

I lift my chin with an imperious air. “I’ll gather a couple of ingredients I’ll need, and then you’ll accompany me back to my chambers so I can tend to you. Either that, or we can keep standing here until more of the staff are moving about to notice your early-morning activities.”

It appears I’ve gambled right that she’d rather as few people as possible see her moving around the palace. With a sigh, her shoulders slump. “You really needn’t trouble yourself?—”

“I’ll be more troubled if I don’t do what I can. Consider it an order from your empress.”

Bianca holds still while I snatch up a few leaves of one plant and more of another. It’s not at all the larger supply I was hoping to collect, but I can return later today.

By the time I’m done, childish laughter bounces from around the side of the building. Some of the palace nursemaids must have brought their early-waking charges out to the gardens for some fresh air. The noble children are so often kept away from court, restricted to their parents’chambers with the staff who care for them, that it’s easy to forget they live here too.

The sound of increased activity nearby makes the vicerine tense more. At the beckoning flick of my hand, she follows me toward the palace without further protest.

As soon as she starts walking, her discomfort is obvious. She takes steady steps, but they’re slower and stiffer than I’ve normally seen her move. Her mouth tightens.

I wish I had some magic to convey her up the stairs to the third floor. She climbs at an even more mincing pace, glancing around her as if she’s simply taking the time to enjoy the mosaics embedded in the walls, but her knuckles pale where she’s gripping the railing. As she takes the last step onto even ground, she can’t restrain a wince.

The moment I have her inside my chambers, I motion her toward the sofa at the far side of my bedroom. Bianca sinks onto it with a faint noise of relief and peers around her at the vast space with all its trappings.

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