Page 16 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
“I did.”
“Tincture?”
“Yes.”
“Next time, add aTto the bottom right corner of your label,” she said somewhat absentmindedly, as if teaching was second nature. “Standard notation.”
“Alright.”
Without another word, Phina uncorked the tincture and sprinkled a drop onto her tongue. She opened and closed her mouth, tasting, assessing. When she appeared satisfied with the quality of my work, she approached the hooded man, placing a hand on his back again as sheoffered him my vial. He did not hesitate; he tipped it back. The liquid burbled within the curvature of the glass as he drank it down.
Silence spread, as if everyone was waiting to see if any adverse effects occurred. To my relief, the figure’s shivers diminished, and a rough sigh slipped out of him. Pride budded in my sternum. Though he was a stranger—he still faced away from me, preserving his anonymity—I was happy to see in the slight relaxation of his shoulders that I’d helped ease his discomfort.
“Escort him to my quarters,” Phina told the knights. “I need a moment with the apprentice.”
The knights did not question Phina’s demand. Faren started toward the opposite end of the alley in a huff. The archer lowered his bow, slid the un-shot arrow back into his quiver, and followed. Mariana spared me one last lingering glance, as if trying to make sense of me—then gripped the hooded figure’s arm, leading him away.
Only after they’d disappeared around the corner did Phina turn back to me. Her mouth was pursed, concern scrunching her youthful face. Or maybe that was anger. I couldn’t tell. My teeth were beginning to chatter from both cold and adrenaline.
“Hylder,” my professor said. “What do you know of it?”
I didn’t expect a quiz. I cleared my throat, cleared my mind, and relaxed into my knowledge of herbs—the safest place in my memory. “It’s a healing botanical that—”
“No,” Phina interrupted. “What do youknowof it?”
The word was loaded. I stiffened.
The less you know, the safer you are.
Seeing my hesitation, Phina took a step closer, trying a different tactic. “Remind me your name?”
“Hattie Mund,” I said. “I’m a pupil in your herbology class.”
“I recognize you,” Phina said, flashing me an encouraging smile. “Listen, Hattie. It’s important that you are honest with me right now. Why were you carrying a Hylder tincture on your person?”
I suddenly felt like I was inwayover my head. I was here to earn an apothecary license, not meddle with secret Order business between adepts and knights. But with the way Phina was staring at me, arms crossed—I couldn’t evade the question. I respected her too much to lie.
“Mariana had a spot of black blood on her wrist,” I said, watching Phina’s features closely.
Judging by the way she flinched, Phina got my hint. “How do you know it was blood?”
“I suppose it could’ve been saliva.” I shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen a knight of an unknown Order with—”
Phina swore, cutting me off. She tipped her head back, glancing at the starlit sky as if she were praying to the Fates. When she leveled her eyes on me again, they were filled with intensity. “How do you know Mariana?”
“We have a mutual acquaintance.”
That seemed to surprise her. “Who?”
“Idris Togren.”
A grin flashed across Phina’s face, bright as the strobe of lightning, there and gone so quickly that I wondered if I’d imagined it. “He’s a friend of mine, too.”
“I know.” Idris was close friends with Phina’s older brother; it’s how she’d been roped into healing him and Anya last fall.
Phina’s face grew serious again. “What do you know of his former duty?”
“Very little,” I replied honestly. Phina sagged with relief, but it was short lived when I added, “Though I have my theories.”
