The handwriting belonged to Mary, the missive brief and to the point. - Come. Now. - Just like their author.
An emergency? Perri didn’t pause another moment, moving quickly in the direction of the infirmary. Mentally running through the list of existing patients, conjecturing what might have gone wrong in readiness.
Her first inkling that the emergency might not be medically related occurred to Perri as the large closed doors leading to the infirmary came into view. A sea of pastel silk dresses confronting her, along with a cloud of choking perfume and a clamouring of insistent female voices.
Three or four of her female kin visiting the injured suitors was generally the rule. Over twenty of them? That was unheard of.
Perri, in her dark grey dress and matching veil, the only bright spot her red hair tightly bound back in a plait today, carved her way through the mass like a sabre tiger through a flock of fluttering furdoves. Ignoring them as they called out her name. Pledging that they only wanted to help aid in Brandth De’Luca’s recovery.
Brandth De’Luca? Perri should have known all this fuss was somehow his fault.
Reaching the large double doors Perri turned, raising her arms. “Shush. There are people ill and dying behind this door.” Okay, she was exaggerating, but sometimes fighting high drama with high drama was the only solution.
Silence fell abruptly before her Cousin, Mirimelle, wailed. “He’s dying?”
“He’s dying?” The words travelled through the group like they were fire alighting dry grasses.
“Now I’ll never meet the Prince.”
“I was going to be Queen.”
“How could you be Queen? I was going to be Queen!”
“Hush.” Perri stomped her heel against the cobblestone to punctuate her demand. “Lord De’Luca is not dying. But nor is he receiving visitors. Only medical personnel are allowed beyond these doors for the foreseeable future.
“Oh, then I wish to volunteer my services.” Her half-sister Reikie announced, patting her chignon and smoothing down her pale green gown.
“Me, too!”
“Yes, I should like to volunteer.”
“Enough!” Honestly, Perri couldn’t remember the last time she’d been forced to raise her voice, she blamed Brandth. “Unless you’re willing to empty the slop buckets and chamber pots… because you know that’s what Mary will have you doing, then I suggest you return to the Keep.”
A lot of frustrated sighs were issued, but still the flock appeared reluctant to disperse. Gods above, this lot needed a trade, rather than sitting around all day pinning their hopes on marriage or some day being Queen. Keeping busy would at least guarantee they weren’t bothering anyone here.
“I tell you what. If you wish to write to Lord De’Luca, then I will personally ensure he gets your correspondence.”
The corridor was empty within six heartbeats, only the cloud of perfume remaining to tickle at Perri’s nose. She loved her female kin, most of the time, but some days they could be a little single minded. Which was a good thing today, as it meant she had successfully realigned their goals. Better still, the fruition of those goals was best served back at the Keep and out of Mary, and their poor patients’ hair.
Feeling as if she’d won a war, Perri slipped into the infirmary. A parade celebrating her victory over her kin may have been too much to expect, but no acknowledgement what so ever seemed a little harsh. Several of her colleagues sending her looks that if she didn’t know better could almost be interpreted as a warning. Now why would… Oh, Master Healer Mary was suddenly standing before Perri. Even bent and grizzled, her Great-Aunt still had a commanding presence.
“Finally. Where have you been? I sent for you ages ago.”
“My apologies, there was the crowd at the door-”
“I don’t want to hear excuses.” Mary waved off Perri’s words. “Here.” She snatched up a waiting tray, depositing it in Perri’s hands.
“What’s this?” An ominous feeling of dread descending.
“You’ve seen a bowl of porridge and my special healing elixir before.”
“Yes, of course. I just wondered why you were handing them to me?”
“Because you would think the tray contained gold and a pile of jewels the way everyone is acting. Helsa and Oritt almost came to blows over it. I had to ban them both for the foreseeable future… so once again I’m short staffed.”
“Um…. Ah.” Oh, heavens, the tray could only be meant for one patient, but surely there had to be someone, anyone else available who could deliver it.
“Now you’re stuttering too.” Mary grumbled. “Please tell me you haven’t joined the ranks of the lovesick and adoring?”
