Chapter 95

Evelyn

The scent of crushed herbs clung to my hands and wafted around us, earthy and sharp, as I ground more into the mortar. Admittedly, I was just glad that the medical wing no longer smelled of blood. I did not miss the absence of pained groans either.

My muscles ached from hours bent over the worktable, ceaselessly crushing, mixing, and then testing the various concoctions that resulted, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

If I stopped, I’d think.

I refused to slip into the many swirling thoughts that plagued me. Even then, hours into these experiments, I felt my mind drifting ceaselessly toward the thoughts I was trying so to avoid. I batted away memories of Logan’s mother’s face in those last moments or the way some of her ragged last words had been wielded to blame me as if I’d put the wolfsbane in her veins myself.

Chris was quiet beside me as I worked. He had arrived several hours before to tend to his own tasks, which mostly involved refilling the significantly dwindled supply of medicines we had used up during the worst of the fighting.

For the most part, we worked silently. He carefully measured powdered charcoal into a flask of distilled water, keeping it at eye level to make sure he had the right ratio.

This side of the medical wing was warm to the point of being hot with the fire I kept blazing as a pot of mixed herbs and water simmered. It should have been suffocating, but I welcomed it. It kept the world outside at bay, further clogging my thoughts.

“Shit,” I muttered, straining to watch the simmering mixture. It had clouded over. I put the mortar to the side and went over to the pot.

“What is it?” Chris had raised his head, putting aside the charcoal mixture he had been working on.

I looked down at the foggy material in the pot. “It’s not going to work.” I sighed, pulling the pot down, prepared to pour out its useless contents. “There has to be something I’m missing.”

“What are you working on?” Chris asked, stretching to view the sludge as I poured it down the drain.

“A cure,” I said as the steam from the pot wafted up around us. “I’m so close to a cure for wolfsbane I can feel it. I just need to find some way to neutralize the toxins before they bind to the blood. I…” My thoughts trailed off as I looked around for the ingredients I needed to begin my next attempt.

“Evelyn.”

The way Chris said my name made me pause. I set down the tincture bottle I had just grabbed and leaned back to better view him. He wasn’t looking at the charcoal mixture or my messy worktable anymore. He was looking directly at me.

“Your passion is admirable, but there’s a reason no one has found the cure yet,” he said. “It’s impossible. Have you even gotten any sleep recently?”

I shook my head, pushing a few frazzled strands of hair from my face. “I got a few hours last night. I couldn’t sleep with it hanging over my head.”

“Evelyn,” he said softly. “Finding a cure now won’t bring her back.”

I swallowed dryly. “I know,” I said. “But it can stop others like her from dying, too. If there’s a way to figure it out, I have to try.”

Chris sighed. “I know it’s not in your nature to give up,” he said. “But don’t overexert yourself if you can avoid it. Trust me, this is a lot more complicated than you’d think.”

“You’re right,” I said. “It’s not in my nature to give up.”

I turned back to my work. Silence settled over us, thick and heavy as humidity. Something had shifted between us during the course of our conversation without me knowing, and I could feel Chris’s attention unwaveringly on me as I tried to ignore his focus and work.

Finally, he said, low and soft, “Evelyn.”

And I knew. Before I even raised my gaze to meet his, I knew what he was going to say.

“I know this isn’t the best time,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but… I need to tell you something.”

I straightened, trying to steel myself. “Go on,” I prompted. Better to get it over with now.

“I’ve always admired this passion of yours,” he said. “How could I not? How many others would have taken what happened to Logan’s mom and worked tirelessly to turn it into a positive?”

He raked a hand through his hair and continued, “I don’t know if anyone else would have jumped right into trying to find a cure. It’s remarkable and… so are you. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’ve always had a crush on you, Evelyn. I think it’s about time you know it too now that it’s calmed down a bit.”

Chris’s face had flushed a bright red by the time he had finished. It was an endearing stain on his cheeks, and he flexed his hands anxiously.

“Chris…” My voice was careful, gentle. “You’ve been a good friend to me. Truly. But I can’t—”

He lifted a hand, stopping me before I could stumble over an apology or finish my rejection. He was already looking at the ground, embarrassed. I felt myself shuffle my weight between my feet, distinctly uncomfortable as well.

“I know,” he said. “I know. And I’m not asking for anything. I just… wanted you to know where things stood with me. After what happened with Logan recently and things slowing down with the war, it felt like it was past time. You should know that you have options, Evelyn. I see you—all of you—and I adore every aspect of who you are. You might not be ready to take the leap, but if you ever want me, I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Something in my chest tightened, not because I wanted what he was offering, but because I didn’t. And even though he was laying out a wonderful alternative for me, and admittedly one that was much safer, I couldn’t bring myself to truly consider it. It was as though my body rejected the possibility on instinct.

And yet, there was a strange comfort in the steadiness of his words. It was nice to know that while most of the others who had learned the truth about me being the princess hated me for the deception, Chris was willing to look past it. At least someone appreciated all facets of my life.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “That means more than you think.”

He smiled faintly, then went back to swirling his charcoal mixture as if the moment had never happened. Slowly, the bright flush began to fade from his face.

I turned from him with some effort and tried to do the same, but my focus kept slipping from my work. I was thinking about Logan again and about the alternative Chris had just proposed. Was it worth the trade?

Still, my hands kept moving, trying to outrun my speeding thoughts.

In a fresh copper pot, I combined crushed wolfsbane leaves and coarse salt. I added a dash of a previously marinated herb mixture and river water. I stirred in a pinch of oak ash and the juice of three different berries. Herbal and berry scents danced around me as I worked, my healing instincts guiding my hand as I tried to bat aside my distracting thoughts..

When I poured the final mixture into the test vial, it didn’t cloud over like the others had. Instead, it stayed clear, faintly shimmering in the firelight’s reflection. I turned it over, observing this mixture from all angles.

My breath caught.

“Chris,” I said, setting the vial carefully on the table, “I think… I think we might have something.”