Page 23 of Turret

It was a future I’d never envisioned for myself. Healers came from the lower classes, never from the nobility, and certainly never fromroyalty. “But still, princesses don’t—”

“You need not separate the parts of yourself,” he said, as usual sensing my unspoken protests and silencing them. “You seem to believe that being a princess is preventing you from becoming anything else, but it is simply one aspect of what makes you Gemma. There’s no need to limit yourself; being a healer won’t change your royal identity. You can be both.”

I glanced around the apothecary once more, this time seeing it not as a room where I’d often been healed but instead as a place ofhealing. “Could I…?”

“If you find joy exploring herbalism, then you should pursue it. No more walls, Gemma.”

I could feel them trying to erect in an attempt to keep my desires trapped. I’d been building these barriers my entire life and I was tired of them, tired of limiting myself, of living below what I knew I could be.

Quinn’s breath caressed my ear as he leaned in close. “Even if we never escape this tower, you can still choose to no longer be bound by the prison you’ve created for yourself. Break free, Gemma.”

Break free…

His earnest plea stoked the fire that was currently no more than a single spark, a flame I yearned to grow. With it I could embrace the path I’d never imagined for myself. Even if I had, the old Gemma would have stood on the threshold gazing longingly down it rather than allow herself to take even a single step, for I’d trapped myself for so long I was even afraid to dream.

But what would I dream about if I allowed myself to?

I closed my eyes and imagined a life where I could fully live—one where I was no longer constantly bedridden, where I was loved by my family and treated normally rather than constantly coddled and kept apart from them because of my condition; for every day to be spent fueling my passion as I worked with herbs and used them to help others, for I understood all too well the pain, loneliness, and insecurity that came from constant illness. If I could help others trapped in a similar position…my heart swelled at the wonderful thought.

I could see myself standing in the apothecary in a simple dress, working without growing tired. I handled each herb with a familiarity that had come from much practice, fully confident in my knowledge and my tasks to heal, to soothe, and to help. I could only imagine the joy that would come from such a future.

Someone else filled this vision, creating an even more beautiful picture—a man as familiar as he was dear, showing me another dream I’d been fighting to keep from my heart. My yearning swelled, and with it I knew I wanted more than purpose—I wanted to spend my life at the side of someone I cared deeply for. I was startled by the direction of my thoughts as well as the intensity of the feelings I’d only tentatively begun exploring, secret longings I was beginning to realize I wanted more than I’d ever wanted anything else.

My eyes startled open with a sharp gasp.

“Gemma?” Quinn sounded worried. “Are you alright?”

I couldn’t look at him, afraid my fragile hold on my feelings would snap the moment I did. Desperate for a distraction, I forced myself to imagine not my guard but instead the time I might spend here as a healer as I slowly circled the room, taking in the shelves laden with jars of herbs and those that hung from the eaves. The herbal garden was primarily a garden and had thus been sparse by way of supplies, but the apothecary contained many more, including more advanced tools, ready-made remedies, a few beds, and not only more books, but more advanced herbal guides, as well as the general feeling of home.

I explored each plant and tool with my touch, often pausing to examine something more closely, particularly the faded titles on the books’ spines. The more I explored, the more I wanted tokeepexploring.

I glanced back at Quinn, who nodded. His gentle encouragement was all I needed. With a wavering breath, I opened the nearest book to the first page, which contained a recipe for a simple tonic for soothing sore throats. I went through the list of ingredients, using the book as reference to find them. I studied each carefully before proceeding to chop, mince, mix, and create.

Quinn remained faithfully beside me, helping me with whatever I needed. I was grateful for his steady presence, not only doing whatever I required of him but also serving as my confidant, a man who helped me be my best and live the life I deserved.

At first we worked in silence, but then I couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask him questions to help me come to know him on a deeper level. He shared stories about his childhood and his studies, speaking in particular about the years it'd taken him to persuade his parents, who'd wanted him to become an advisor to the king rather than a knight, which had always been his ambition. I especially enjoyed hearing about the hours he'd spent with his grandfather, whom he was especially close to. It was his grandfather who had eventually taught Quinn how to whittle, and he'd grown in his craft by recreating the beautiful things he discovered in nature, which he also loved.

Time seemed to still as his words enveloped me. I felt I wasn’t just making a tonic but also exploring the part of myself that cared for Quinn, one I was coming to realize had been a part of me for a long time…I just hadn’t recognized it. Instead I’d been so trapped by the fear that no one would ever see beyond my constant sickliness in order to love me that I’d been unable to love in return.

I finished the tonic. At first I stood admiring the pasty green liquid, feeling a sense of pride, warm and comforting.I’dcreated this.

Beaming, I swiveled around to show Quinn, only to become transfixed by the admiration filling his eyes. My breath caught, and for a long moment I found myself trapped by his gaze, unable to move. Then all at once I embraced him.

“Thank you for your help.” But even after I’d extended my gratitude, I found I was unable to pull away. The feel of his arms around me felt different and far more special than it had when he’d embraced me after rescuing me from the disappearing library. Perhaps it was because this time I was turning to him not only for comfort, but solely forhim…and for all I felt towards him.

I could no longer fight against the emotions I’d been trying not to feel. My fears were nothing to the beauty of what I was experiencing now. How could I hold back my growing love for a man who had been the most caring, faithful friend?

Don’t fight it, I urged myself.Be brave. Allow yourself to explore this most beautiful of paths.

I tentatively opened my heart…and once it was unlocked, there was no stopping the warm and beautiful feelings that enfolded me. I no longer wanted to. My heart opened further to reveal all I’d so carefully protected within it: Quinn was not just my unfailingly loyal guard who saw the best in me, he was my knight in shining armor, my dearest friend.

These feelings filled me with light, happiness, and all the love I felt for my guard who I now realized fully possessed my heart, even long before I’d realized it. Overwhelmed, I peered up at Quinn, only to lose myself once more in the tenderness filling his gaze. With that one look, there was no longer any doubt: I loved him.

What greater dream could I ever have than of him?

Chapter 9

My recent revelation concerning Quinn was both beautiful and torturous. It brought light to my otherwise monotonous days even as the secret haunted me. I yearned to share my feelings with him, yet I’d never done something so brave. I was a shy princess who’d spent my entire life trapped by sickness, often in bed within the same four walls that were nothing more than a prison.

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