The infirmary was like the first breath of air after being underwater. Noah had the door propped open, and immediately the smell of herbs and florals wrapped around Luci as if happy to see her. The feeling was certainly mutual. Herbs and florals didn’t ask uncomfortable questions and made her question what she knew.
Several brews were already starting while Noah sat at the far corner flipping the pages of a thick leather-bound book. Luci smiled while she watched him work, but there was no indication that he was aware of the world around him. Over the past few days, Luci found herself wishing she could borrow his mind for just a minute. The way he saw the potential in every ingredient was intoxicating.
“Intermittent fevers, rashes, swollen, aching joints. It feels similar to rheumatism, but more severe,” he murmured.
Luci stilled. Those symptoms.
“It’s just a rash on the face– not her whole body,” Luci said, swallowing back her unease.
If there was anyone she was going to trust with this, it would be Noah.
Jumping slightly, Noah turned and placed a hand over his heart, breathing in a deep breath.
“You scared me,” he said with a small smile.
If she could have managed a smile, she would have given it back to him, but instead her heart beat a little too fast. If there was one rule in the Treveon household, it was that no one spoke of Brielle’s illness. Sickness was weakness as far as Lord Treveon was concerned.
Which meant if Noah was listing those symptoms, there was only one person who could have told him what they were. It stung a little more than Luci would have liked. Almost a breach of trust, but how could she blame Brielle for seeking help? All Luci ever managed to do was treat the symptoms. Maybe Noah was the answer to how to prevent or even cure them.
“She sometimes can’t tolerate sunlight either, and it makes the rash worse. Her most common symptom is fatigue. It sometimes takes her out for days at a time.” Luci confessed.
Noah nodded, pressing a finger to his lip, cataloguing all the data.
“And her mother suffered similarly,” he said.
“Yes,” Luci whispered. “She died of one of the fevers. I don’t know much more than that because Lord Treveon forbade anyone to speak of it.”
Noah shook his head and ran his hand through his sandy brown hair.
“That is a mistake. Knowledge concealed is knowledge lost,” he said.
Luci came up beside him and scanned the pages of the open book. The parchment was worn, with tan pages stained brown from time. At the top in artful penmanship was the word rheumatism.
“It’s over a hundred years old from one of the previous Masters. I thought maybe it could be something old, given the way it seems generational,” he explained.
“And?” Luci asked, fighting to swallow.
Noah sighed, shoulders falling. “The closest illness is rheumatism, but that doesn’t account for all or even the severity of symptoms.”
No, it did not. Noah was incredibly talented, and his knowledge base was enviable, but Luci had spent most of her life researching known illnesses in search of a cure.
“She’s been well since we came to the castle. She still takes the orange extract elixir I make for her, but she hasn’t required anything else.” Luci confessed.
“Why do you think that is?” Noah said.
That was a question Luci was not prepared to answer out loud. Happiness. Freedom. Love.
Noah reached out and lifted her chin with his index finger, a knowing in his soft brown eyes.
“Think like a healer, not as family,” he said.
Right. Separating emotion meant improving clarity. The more objective the better the data.
“It’s spring. The weather is warmer,” she said.
His answering smile stretched out the scar over his eye, and there was no denying he was handsome. So why didn’t her heart skip as it did with—.
“Winter is always worse for her,” Luci said quickly.