“We don’t have to tell him right now. It’s a piece of evidence to tuck away for the moment. I also know what kind of medicine I could ask for.”
***
Aleric had locked his sitting room once Jaime left, so he didn’t feel too nervous when he knocked on Olivier’s door. Gautier couldn’t get to Aleric at the moment.
The physician’s eyes widened when he saw Jaime. “Is Aleric feeling worse?”
“No, he’s just tired. Your medicine fixed him right up for the most part.”
Olivier’s smile was a bit stiff. “You can come in. Do you feel like you’re catching something? One of the courtiers was a bit sniffly the other day.”
“Not exactly.” Jaime shoved his hands in his coat pocket and made himself look away as he stepped in and glanced at the herbs hanging from the ceiling. A bright orange plant by the window that hadn’t been there before had creepers clinging to the glass. “What is that?”
“A nolos. Mixed with other things, it can help with certain female troubles.”
“Ah.” Jaime pretended it was hard to meet the physician’s eyes. “Er, once in a while, if I feel a bit stressed and down, and if I can afford it, I go get a tincture or herbs to drink in the morning. A few haven’t done anything, but some have helped a little. The ones you make tea from seem to work a lot better for me.”
“Ah, I know what you mean.” Olivier headed for the cabinet that didn’t have glass doors. “Certain events can weigh quite heavily even later in life. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you to get over it just because your life seems fine now. Have a seat. Men get melancholy and anxiety too, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Also, I imagine the past couple of days were stressful with Aleric’s attack and being so ill.”
“Uh-huh.” Jaime sat in the chair by the door. He’d expected the physician to act like he was being silly.
Then again, while Olivier was a piece of shit, he did have physician training, and from whatever he’d seen in his life, men developing melancholy might have made sense to him.
Although it wasn’t the sort of thing most would admit anyway, Jaime didn’t feel like he had it. He’d decided it was a safe thing to use since he wouldn’t have to provide evidence of an injury or make up a lie about strange pains and symptoms.
Many of the jars and bottles in the cabinet had no labels. “How do you know what’s what?”
Olivier took a few jars to his worktable. “Good memory. When you’ve been doing it this long, most things are easy to recognize at a glance. I could do this with my eyes closed.”
Jaime didn’t like the idea of a physician who didn’t label his concoctions. Without planning to kill a courtier, what if he grabbed the wrong thing by mistake? A tiny slip-up could have dire consequences. “Please don’t do it with your eyes closed.”
Olivier laughed as he pulled dried, chopped leaves from a jar to dump into a mortar. “Don’t worry, I’m not.”
How did a man get in with another who was plotting? Olivier must have been a young man once with proper morals, right? He didn’t get physician training so he could poison a patient one day.
“I thought a court physician would have a work area separate from where he sleeps. Don’t you feel like you never get away from your job?”
Olivier worked the leaves with the pestle. “No, and it’s easier if I work and stay in one room in case I’m needed. Less running around to find me.”
Jaime tried to remember the things that went into the jar, and he recognized nothing except for mint.
Give it a good shake and put three spoonfuls in hot water every morning,” said Olivier. “Let it steep for a good five minutes before you drink. Stir it well. Have one or two in the afternoon if you feel you need it.”
“All right.”
“You can put honey or sugar in the tea if you want. It won’t affect it. If it doesn’t work, come see me, and I’ll tweak the combination. The same thing doesn’t work for everyone.”
Jaime thanked him and took the large jar upstairs to knock on the sitting room door. Aleric let him in and took the proffered jar.
Jaime locked the door. “Do you recognize anything bad?”
“I’m no expert in herbs.” Aleric peered through the glass.
“He has a lot of unlabeled jars and bottles.”
“I know. I never liked that.”
Jaime squinted at him. “Who took care of your Mother?”
