Ruelle lay on the bed with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The wooden box had been opened many times before, yet never once had she imagined she had been holding something more valuable than a gem.
"Lucian… are you awake?" Ruelle asked softly.
There was silence except for the winter's wind howling through the night beyond the walls and windows.
"No."
A small, unconscious smile tugged at her lips at his response from the other side of the bed. She turned to her side and asked, "Where did you learn about the other belladonna ingredients? Mr. Savnitique only spoke about extracts from rare plants. The books never mentioned the rest."
"From the witches in the deep woods," Lucian replied.
She asked, "But aren't they notorious for hoodwinking people? Wait—you mean that's how the books got it wrong?"
"Witches don't speak for free," Lucian said. "They speak when the offer interests them."
