Page 34 of The Cinders
‘Of course, your highness.’
Xian lost track of the time that passed, sitting silent until the man returned, clearing his throat.
‘I have it done.’He held a small bottle of a cloudy, faintly blue concoction; liquid with the tinge of winter ice.‘May I, your highness?’In his other hand he held a small wooden spoon, its ladle already full of the tincture.‘Take only a spoonful of this a day, for no more than a week.Less if you can manage.’He swallowed.‘Some who take this become overly reliant on its effects, and find themselves lost to its strength.’
Xian nearly sobbed with longing to be so lost.‘Give it to me.’
Master Liang hesitated.‘A spoonful each time, no more.I beseech you.’
Saying nothing, Xian opened his mouth, and the liquid was poured onto his tongue.He closed his eyes.The taste was repulsive, like meat just shy of rotting, but he gulped it down.
A blissful heat moved down his throat, through his chest, spreading tentacles of warmth into his ribs.He felt it pool in his belly; pungent and dominating.
He sat with eyes closed.Waiting.
The effects struck him after barely a minute or two; the anguish left him, the tears retreated, and his throat opened.
Xian blinked, and the world drew back into focus, the dark mist at its edges evaporating under the tincture’s glare.He felt his lips move and realised they were stretching into a smile.
But the herbalist did not return his smile.The man looked grim.‘You feel it already, your highness?I’ve not known it to take hold so quickly, perhaps the dose is too much for you?’
‘The dose is just right.’
Master Tiang did not seem convinced.‘I see its effects in your eyes.Allow me to remix the tincture to a level better suited to you.’
Xian held out his hand, the smile still on his lips, his anger shrinking down like flames doused; his grief cowering in the depths of his soul.‘No.Give me the bottle.I must go.I have much to do.’
Liang did not immediately hand over the bottle, and a prick of something bitter touched Xian’s mind.But he refused to allow anything to curtail his bliss.
Xian snatched the bottle from Master Liang’s hand.The man let out a shocked gasp, but Xian was not yet done, grabbing at the spoon as well.
‘There.Not so difficult was it?’His smile was not entirely comfortable, but nothing compared to the torment of earlier, so he smiled wider.‘You have served me well, good man.’
Master Liang shook his head.‘I fear I have only added to your burdens, my young prince.’
Xian, though, was in no mood for such grim assessment.He rose to his feet, wavering only a little.‘Good evening, Master Liang.’
He made his way to the door, placing the tincture bottle and spoon in the deep hidden pocket of his sky blue ruqun.The same place he’d intended to hide the slipper once he’d retrieved it from Mercy’s pond.
Xian faltered, the tug at his happiness like the scratch of a branch against a rooftop.He hurried on, running from the daemons the foolish herbalist claimed could not be outraced.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SONG LIMknelt before Lady Tian, fitting the first of the three pairs of shoes he had made for her, listening as she gossiped with her attendants.It became harder and harder to maintain his silence.
‘I heard that terrible storm that struck just after they after they departed, brought on flood waters that delayed their journey by nearly half a day,’ the lady said, eyes gleaming with relish.‘How dreadful for my royal brother who is averse to being in the saddle at the best of times.’
‘He would ride in the Official’s carriage surely?’asked an attendant, who held a slight lisp.
‘When they departed he declined the carriage, silly fool, despite his aversion to riding horseback.Maybe his scars still burn, and he wished for the fresh air on his face.’
The women giggled and tittered.Lim set aside the slippers, satisfied with the fit, and picked up the more gregarioushuapenxiepair the lady was so eager for.The shoes had a thick wooden heel set at the centre of the foot; giving the wearer a stature they lacked in life.
‘I can’t see how he could feel the air, with that veil of his.’
‘Is he not frightened of horses?’said another woman, who sat too close to Song Lim, finding too many occasions to brush against him.
‘I’d say they are frightened of him, Ruyan.’Lady Tian laughed carelessly.‘He was bitten by one, only a few days after he arrived here, and nearly kicked by another as he sought to run from the stables.’