Ronan stood and held out his hand to me. “I’ll escort Lady Marcella to supper.”
I hesitated to leave Gwenyth.
“You can do nothing more for her,” Ronan said, “and the king and queen expect you to attend the celebration of their union. You wouldn’t wish to insult them.”
I doubted they would notice my absence, but he was right about the rest. And I needed my strength for tonight, especially after expending energy on the spell to ease her pain.
I took his hand. As we made our way to the door, he offered me his arm and I took that as well. Declining such a gesture would’ve been rude and yet this felt like an intimacy I should avoid. All intimacies with Ronan would make my task tonight harder. How could I take his mark when he’d just helped Gwenyth? And if his magic could save her life, shouldn’t I waituntil that was accomplished before I proceeded? It was a muddle in my mind that needed sorting.
We ambled down the hallway, side by side. We’d never walked like this while I lived at Docendum, although we’d strolled hand in hand often enough while out on the forest trails. This was formal, a recognition I was a lady now. He’d probably escorted more highborn ladies around the castle than he could count. And yet his nearness felt like a magnet.
When we were a little way down the hall, I asked, “What are her chances of a full recovery?”
“Her burns cover perhaps fifteen percent of her body instead of twenty-five.”
Of course, he’d replied with math. It was his second language. “And?” I coaxed.
“It’s more of an improvement than I hoped for. However, it’s still too early for conjecture. I’ve seen men with smaller wounds die and ones with greater live.”
“Now that she’s improved, will you be able to perform the spell to speed healing?”
He shook his head. “One precludes the other.”
I’d feared that. When a spell closely resembled another, usually only one would work. Ronan had explained the phenomena by likening it to a match set to kindling. A match would burn the kindling but a second match set to the ashes would do nothing at all.
Postponing the mission might increase Gwenyth’s chances of recovery if Ronan was able to find a way in which a different spell could help her.
It was a small, miserly hope. In wealthy households, wizards were called to tend wounds as frequently as physicians and knew the limitations of their power. If Ronan could have done more, he would’ve said as much from the beginning.
Gwenyth didn’t want a postponement on her behalf. She’d made that clear already, and if I waited, Saxeus might change rooms or even worse, change the enchantment that guarded his chamber. Then her sacrifice would be for nothing.
And yet to go forward now…well, perhaps I was just looking for an excuse to postpone what I dreaded doing.
“Thank you for helping her,” I said again. Healing wounds took no small amount of energy. He wouldn’t recover his strength until tomorrow. Of course, tomorrow his magical energy wouldn’t matter.
I felt horrible.
Ronan’s eyes went to mine. “I wouldn’t have told you she was just a servant. I’m not as heartless as that.”
This didn’t make me feel any better about my task. “Mage Saxeus already said as much. He told me if she died, he would buy me a new lady’s maid.”
“Mage Saxeus is an insufferable sard.” Ronan stopped himself. “Pardon me. I shouldn’t use vulgar language in front of a lady. What I meant to say was that if Mage Saxeus’ skills matched his arrogance, the king would be well served. As that is far from the case, I won’t enjoy working with him.”
I laughed. I shouldn’t have, but the strain of the last hour had been too great. “Is that the worst part of your job? Working with arrogant wizards?” The job certainly must have more harrowing drawbacks. A memory flitted through my mind. The gray dust of ashes on the bottom of Ronan’s cloak.
He cocked his head, unsure why I’d laughed. “No. It’s just one unpleasantness.”
“What’s the worst part then?”
“I haven’t categorized them all.”
Killing people should be high on that particular litany. Although I couldn’t say such things after he’d helped Gwenyth. “How did you know to come to the housekeeper’s room?”
“I was speaking to Mage Saxeus when your messenger found him and requested his help. Mage Saxeus told me I should be the one to answer your summons as your maid had been injured trying to deliver a message to me.” Ronan’s pace slowed. “Mage Saxeus was quite curious as to why you’d sent me a message.”
Oh, yes. The pretended message. My mind had been so preoccupied with Gwenyth that I hadn’t thought of a possible explanation for writing to him.
Best to stall. “Mage Saxeus found it hard to believe you would have business dealings with someone such as me. I’m assuming that’s because you’re a confirmed bachelor who gives no consideration to the women at court and not because I’m of too low a status to warrant your attention.”