Page 85 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“He is right. She will be in danger,” Carrick realized aloud once the dragon left. “You are beloved in this court, but I am unsure if it is enough for you to be able to protect a witch without… alienating yourself.”

I did not respond, I merely turned to retrieve the wash basin and entered my private chamber again. There were so many important decisions and considerations that all felt overwhelming when I still felt so unsteady after Aodhan’s death. I was usually in control of absolutely everything, including my emotions, and now I felt like little more than a fallen leaf in a strong wind.

I tried not to react when I returned to the chamber to find Nuala sitting up and staring into the lantern on the table next to my bed. But it was unsettling to see her gaunt figure sitting at the edge of my bed.

“Your bathtub,” I announced, lifting it for her to see as I came back into the bedchamber, but she did not look away from the flames.

“It has been so long that my eyes will not tolerate the light well enough to See anything,” she said. Her voice was so flat and emotionless that it was strangely uncanny. None of the fire in her from my dream seemed to remain in the poor creature.

“They will get used to the fire again,” I reassured her and positioned the tub in the middle of the floor.

“They must or I will be useless to you. Worse. I will bring nothing but chaos to your command here.”

“That is not…” I trailed off in sudden suspicion before straightening from over the basin. “You overheard?”

“In the absence of sight, my other senses have become quite powerful,” she admitted, still keeping her wincing eye upon the lantern in front of her.

I stepped forward and gently touched her chin to turn her face toward me.

“Do not worry about any of that. You will leave those under my command tometo worry about,” I ordered.

For a second, I thought I saw a familiar expression of relief in her face before she nodded, but I immediately dismissed the possibility. I went quickly to the main room to retrieve the first enormous cauldron of water that Carrick had warmed for me.

My uncle followed me back with a cup of tea which he set on the table in front of Nuala. In his other hand was a mortar full of a pasty mixture of crushed Ichor of Airmid that had a familiar and woody scent.

“Drinkallof the tea. It does not taste good, but it will help with infection, parasites, and disease. I always found it to be a little more tolerable if you can get it down while it is still nice and hot,” he explained to Nuala who merely stared up at him. “This is for your wounds,” he continued seamlessly and set the heavy,stone bowl down next to the tea on the table before reaching into one of his pockets. “And you can drink these if you wish,” he finished as he brandished two vials before setting them down along with a roll of bandages. “This one will help with pain and… the other will prevent pregnancy.”

Her brows furrowed now, her good eye dropping to the vials he had left for her.

“Prevent it?” she verified in evident confusion, and she looked to me for an explanation.

“They will not taste pleasant either,” I warned her, attempting to smile in encouragement, but it felt brittle.

“Ornella will be able to heal her completely once she is rested and you call for her,” Carrick told me, his brows raising significantly.

I grunted in understanding and turned to the small desk against the wall at the foot of the bed. Stepping around Éadrom who did not move, I retrieved the bag of soaps and oils I typically took down to the river to bathe.

“Drink,” Carrick encouraged Nuala, and I turned to see she was still looking from my uncle down to the cup and vials he had set in front of her in uncertainty.

“How… long does the preventive last for?” she asked, looking at me unexpectedly.

“It does not interfere with fertility in the long term,” Carrick reassured her. “It is more of a hindsight measure rather than a method for contraception. I should warn you that it might make you feel a little nauseous,” he admitted. “But there are other more effective contraceptives to take if you wish to explore those options later,” he added with his usual comforting smile and gentle bedside manner.

“I do not wish to take them,” she assured him with a glance at me, and it was the first time I’d heard a hint of her former fire in her voice. It was reassuring.

“Of course. You do not need to take the Bairnwort now if you would rather not. It is your choice,” said Carrick.

Nuala looked at me again, the uncertainty and alarm so clear in her expression that I felt compelled to step toward her as if I were called to her defense. It occurred to me that she may know she could trust me from her visions, but Carrick was completely unknown to her.

“My apologies, Nuala, this is my uncle Carrick,” I told her and set a hand on his shoulder. “He speaks true about the Bairnwort. It is safe and will not impact you longer than a couple of days. Carrick will not ever hurt you.”

Nuala eased as she looked back at Carrick, her one eye moving over him as if to reassess him.

“There is nothing he could do to me that has not been done a hundred times,” she dismissed, before she took the vials and dumped them both down her throat. Aside from a furrow of her brows and a downward curl of her mouth, she displayed no reaction to the horrible tinctures that I’d seen make grown orcs vomit.

My uncle looked exactly how I felt. As if he did not know whether to be sick or start a war on her behalf.

“No one is going to—” I began.

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