"This isn't normal."
Yorick repeated the words softly, more to himself than to Josselyn.
Josselyn swallowed. "You've said that three times."
"Does this usually happen?" Yorick asked quickly.
Josselyn let out an annoyed breath. "If this were normal, I wouldn't be this shocked."
Yorick fell silent for a moment. His eyes remained fixed on her, sharp, as if dissecting something invisible.
"Open your hand," he said suddenly.
"What?"
"Open it. Now."
Josselyn hesitated, but obeyed. She extended her hand, palm facing up.
Yorick took something from his bag. A small blade.
Josselyn immediately pulled her hand back. "Hey… what are you doing?"
"A test," Yorick replied calmly.
"I don't agree to this."
"Do you want to know the truth or not?" Yorick cut in sharply.
Josselyn clenched her jaw.
"…Just a little," Yorick continued, his tone softer. "I won't cut you deep."
Josselyn ground her teeth, irritation flashing in her eyes. "If this ends badly…"
"What could be worse than being in a prison like this?" Yorick said shortly, enough to make Josselyn scoff and turn her face away.
Yorick let out a long breath. "Your hand."
Josselyn glanced at Yorick's outstretched palm waiting for her. Reluctantly, she extended her hand again.
Yorick gripped her wrist with one hand, firm enough to hold it steady.
"Don't move."
"If it hurts…"
"Yes, it will hurt."
"You're not helping."
"Quiet."
And before Josselyn could pull away again,
Sst.
"Ah…!"
A thin line opened across her palm. Blood immediately surfaced.
Josselyn winced. "You really…"
"Lower your voice," Yorick said again, more quietly. "Do you want the guards to come in and see this?"
Josselyn bit the inside of her cheek. Her eyes were fixed on the wound.
The blood flowed, nearly dripping, then slowed.
Josselyn frowned. "Are you…"
Her voice caught.
Both of them were staring at the same thing.
The bleeding stopped. And right before their eyes, the split skin slowly began to close.
Slowly. But unmistakably.
"…This can't be real," Josselyn whispered, her breath tight.
Yorick didn't answer. The lines on his forehead deepened as he watched, as if holding his breath.
A few seconds passed.
The wound closed completely, leaving only a faint line that gradually faded.
"This isn't normal healing…"
Yorick lifted his gaze, looking at Josselyn more intently. "If this is real, you will never be allowed to live freely. People like this are usually turned into weapons."
Josselyn reflexively looked away. "You're scaring me."
"Are you sure this is the first time it's happened? Maybe it occurred years ago. Try to remember," Yorick said, his gaze shifting back to where the wound had disappeared.
Josselyn swallowed. The question was strange, but she still tried.
Who else could she trust but him?
A flicker of the past surfaced.
She was mopping the filthy floor of the house while Clarisse sat comfortably on a chair, eating the sweets Josselyn had made.
Then Aunt Arabella striking her back because she refused to give in to Clarisse.
And the most recent memory before she was summoned to the palace, Uncle Edmund throwing a chair at her leg, leaving a deep wound.
Josselyn opened her eyes and lifted her skirt slightly, revealing the scar still clearly visible.
"This is my most recent injury," Josselyn said, staring at it. "If this power had existed before, this wound wouldn't still be here."
Yorick looked at her exposed calf, then reflexively reached out to touch the scar.
Josselyn bit her lower lip as his palm brushed her skin. For some reason, it felt like a current ran through her, making her heart beat faster.
She quickly pulled her leg back, covering it again with her skirt.
"Does it still hurt?" Yorick asked, his gaze serious.
Josselyn rubbed her neck and shook her head slowly. "It doesn't hurt. It's just… uncomfortable."
"Only when it's touched?" Yorick asked, narrowing his eyes.
Josselyn cleared her throat softly.
"I still remember that unpleasant incident in my sleep. Sometimes the pain still feels real," she said, trying to keep her tone steady.
She wasn't entirely lying. The nightmares from that hellish house still haunted her.
But the discomfort she had just felt when Yorick touched her was different. Not new, but unfamiliar in its origin.
"Alright. I'll look into what's happening to you. In the meantime," Yorick took out a small bottle, about the size of his palm, made of clear glass with a cork stopper, and handed it to her.
"I've prepared an herbal mixture to support your recovery. It should help you sleep better tonight and regain your strength faster."
Without hesitation, Josselyn took the bottle and studied it briefly.
"Thank goodness. My whole body feels like it's falling apart from sleeping on this cold floor."
She uncorked it, and as she brought it closer, a sharp, strange scent reached her nose.
'That smell… I think I've smelled it before,' Josselyn thought, frowning.
"What is it?" Yorick looked at her, smiling. "Don't you like the scent?"
"It's not that. It just feels familiar."
Yorick answered too quickly. "It's Mandrake. Most herbal remedies contain it."
"Oh… that makes sense. My mother used it often when treating patients," Josselyn said. With her hands still bound, she tilted the bottle and drank it all in one go.
Yorick smiled widely. "You really are the daughter of a legendary alchemist, drinking something that bitter so easily."
Josselyn grimaced as the bitterness spread across her mouth. But Yorick was right, it didn't bother her much. Perhaps because she had grown up tasting countless mixtures crafted by her mother, Althea, the Alchemist.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, then held out the now empty bottle to Yorick.
But Yorick didn't take it right away. His expression suddenly changed. He went quiet for a moment, his brows knitting together as if thinking hard about something.
"Sir?" Josselyn tapped the glass bottle lightly against the floor. "I don't think I need an empty bottle in here."
Yorick snapped out of it. He quickly smiled and took the bottle from her.
"Rest. Tell me if you feel even the slightest change in your body," he said, slipping the bottle back into his bag.
Josselyn nodded. "Thank you, sir."
Yorick stood and walked toward the cell door. He knocked twice on the iron, signaling the guard that he was finished.
Soon, the door creaked open. Before stepping out, Yorick paused and glanced back.
"About Althea, your mother…"
Josselyn lifted her face, waiting for him to continue. But seconds passed without a word.
"If your mother saw all this, she would be very worried," Yorick said with a faint smile. "Live well. Don't make her worry from up there."
Josselyn said nothing. Even after Yorick disappeared beyond the door and the iron clanged shut again.
Josselyn let out a short laugh.
"What does he know about my mother?"