The Herbal Poultice
"Are you really not going to eat it? Why?"
Zama asked the question Nyx wanted to pose. His mouth was already poised to tear into the fish. It sounded like the sort of polite courtesy one offers right before devouring something.
"I don't really like fish."
Tichite answered as coldly as she'd refused the fish itself.
She doesn't like fish, I see.
Nyx filed the fact away in his mind, inkless.
"Then at least eat the beans."
"I don't like beans either."
"You're awfully picky for someone in your position."
Coming from the real picky eater—the one who'd forced his master to go hunting—those words carried little weight.
"There aren't any Tilamin who like black beans, you know."
She hugged her knees and answered sulkily.
"At least not among the Tilamin who live in Bigland."
Nyx pondered what that meant for a long while before concluding that beans must simply disagree with her constitution.
The woman nibbled half-heartedly at a piece of hard bread she'd soaked in water, then stood up as if something far more important had occurred to her.
She returned with a sharp stone knife and a flat stone slab she'd found somewhere. From her bag she pulled out some wilted plants, laid them on the slab, and began crushing them with fierce concentration.
To Zama and Milvian's eyes, Tichite looked every inch the witch.
Dark greenish sap began to ooze from the mashed plants. It resembled the chewed-up weeds a goat might spit out—messy and distinctly unpleasant.
Milvian had been frowning at her bizarre behavior, but when she approached Nyx carrying the mysterious green sludge, he could no longer stay silent.
"What? You're going to put that filthy stuff on the Knight Commander's skin?"
"It's not filthy."
Tichite answered while balancing the mixture of crushed herbs on her fingertip. She looked to Nyx as if asking for permission. The man gave a short, simple reply.
"Do it."
Those three words settled the matter. Nyx's gaze never left Tichite's wriggling fingers. He paid no attention whatsoever to Milvian, who was practically vibrating with outrage.
With her master on her side, Tichite allowed herself a small moment of triumph. Her voice gained confidence.
"Yes, Knight Commander."
She boldly removed Nyx's glove and continued her work. As she spread the herbal juice across the back of his hand, she explained the treatment.
"This is good for inflammation. We'll test it on the back of your hand first. If it shows results, I'll expand the area. I'll leave it on like this, so please stay still for a little while."
She settled down right beside him, repeatedly pounding something with a sharp stone before applying it to his hand. In the process she held his hand, rubbed the back of it, and at one point even rested it on her own thigh.
The man no longer flinched away or froze like before. He simply watched quietly as Tichite worked. He looked almost comically docile—like a bear politely attending a squirrel's tea party.
Milvian observed the scene with clear displeasure.
She's not a child playing house. What does she think that handful of weeds is going to accomplish?
While the Knight Commander sat with that very weed paste on the back of his hand, he drifted into a hazy childhood memory.
Plucking flowers, tearing up grass, and arranging them on twigs and stones to create pretend meals. There had been a time, when he was still not quite eight years old, when he'd been forced to play such games.
"Here, Nyx. You're the papa and I'm the mama."
"Why me?"
"Because you're my fiancé, of course."
He had genuinely hated that embarrassing role-play. Abigail would press a long twig into his hand and expect him to pretend to enjoy the muddy water she claimed was clam soup.
She probably would have been satisfied with mere pretense. But little Nyx Farrow had thought the whole thing utterly stupid.
The boy had no interest in exchanging tender affections with young ladies. All he wanted was to run wild with a wooden sword.
Looking back now, he really had been a little terror. He hadn't understood the slightest thing about a girl's heart.
Not that I've improved much since then.
Yet sitting here so cozily with her now, the feeling was entirely different from before. Of course, Tichite wasn't playing house—she was deadly serious about her own medical treatment.
"Does it need to soak in?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Until tomorrow morning."
"It might fall off. What if I toss in my sleep?"
"I'll wrap it with a bandage."
When Nyx called for Zama, the boy fetched a fresh bandage from the bag. The old one, after being washed in the stream, hung drying on a nearby branch. When Tichite reached out to take the new bandage from him, Zama refused to hand it over.
"Wrapping the Knight Commander's bandages is my job."
"I applied the medicine. It can't just be wrapped any old way."
The two of them bickered over whose duty it was, but once again Nyx took Tichite's side.
"Leave the bandaging to the doctor, Zama."
Zama thrust out his lower lip in a pout and practically threw the bandage at her. Then he plopped down nearby, arms crossed, watching with a look that said let's see how well you do it.
Paying him no mind, Tichite continued her work. She tucked the patient's arm against her side and began wrapping the bandage from the wrist with careful, practiced skill.
Urk…
Nyx, who had thought himself somewhat accustomed to her touch by now, stiffened once more. He couldn't remain composed. Though she'd held his arm before, this was the first time she'd slipped anything beneath it. Every contact felt brand new, setting fresh records in some private ledger.
***
The trees that had seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky gradually shortened. The dappled sunlight falling through the canopy slowly widened into broader patches. After running diligently, they finally left the dense forest behind. A clear blue sky opened overhead, revealing a gentle path across the meadow.
In the distance, a rocky mountain wearing a green cap stood in stark vertical lines, while pale green hills flowed in graceful, winding curves. Wildflowers blooming along the roadside carried the rich, warm scent of spring. The lake surrounded by blossoms was so vividly blue it almost hurt the eyes.
The lush sight of barley and wheat fields drew forth admiration. To Tichite's eyes, the vast meadow felt even more full and moving than the deep blue sea.
"People are farming here."
She stated the obvious, then added an unexpected opinion.
"We won't have to sleep outdoors anymore."
She pointed to the scattered farmhouses visible here and there, suggesting that surely one of them would offer to put the group up for the night.
Nyx laughed out loud at her words.
"Right. I'll make sure you sleep in the biggest and most spacious house we come across today."
Not understanding the full implication behind that bold claim, the woman looked puzzled. The man kindly explained further.
"It means if we ride a few more hours, we'll reach Half Moon Castle."
Half Moon Castle. That was the Paeroa family's stronghold. It might even become a place where Tichite could live for the rest of her life.
Me, living in a castle.
Her heart raced at the word "castle." To her, a castle was an unreachable place, a space reserved for the privileged class. Just hearing the word naturally filled her with an extraordinary feeling. Though she was nothing more than a lowly servant and certainly no princess, the mere thought of becoming part of that noble world filled her with excitement.
In her mind she built a grand and beautiful palace. She poured every ounce of luxury she could imagine into the most opulent and majestic form possible. But since the only castle she'd ever seen in her life was the Saltcoast's salt fortress, the limits of her imagination were painfully clear.
After that they continued through endlessly alternating pastures and vineyards, climbing one gently sloping hill after another. When they finally reached a point where the entire world seemed to lie beneath their horses' hooves, they encountered a sight so breathtaking it made them wonder how they had climbed so high.
In the distance, large and small buildings with gabled roofs clustered tightly together. A massive castle wall enclosed everything, as if to prevent any further expansion. Though it looked like a toy from afar—so small and densely packed—once inside, it was large enough to make one easily lose their way.
Gazing at the grand city within that territory, Tichite asked,
"Is that Loudhill?"
"Is that Loudhill?"
Nyx's chest shook with laughter once more. It was an adorably foolish question, like seeing rainwater flowing in a ditch and asking if it was a river. Yet her voice, soaked through with wonder, struck him as utterly charming.
"The fields you've been running through this whole time were Loudhill."
The man answered like a refreshing breeze. Then he pointed a little higher up.
"And that is Half Moon Castle."
Tichite's gaze followed his hand upward. A colossal fortress stood atop a steep cliff, overlooking the city below. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it sooner.