Tales of Fire and Ruin - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

After what my mother said in the foyer, I couldn't stop blood from flooding my cheeks as I entered Oleander's room and brought him water. I felt Oleander's eyes resting on me, but I didn't look at him as I placed the pitcher and a glass on his nightstand. It didn't feel appropriate to stay beside Oleander while he rested, so I didn't linger near the bed.
I turned towards to the door. "I'll leave you so you can rest."
"Wait," Oleander called out after I'd already stepped into the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, I peeked into the room. "Yes?"
"...Lord Montbow, won't you sit with me for a while?"
Oleander's eyes glistened as he looked up at me. The sight of him holding back tears welling up didn't just tug, but ripped at my heartstrings. Poor guy must've been keeping a brave face before, pretending he felt better than he did. I couldn't say no to him. Not after he had just saved my family. I could hardly ever no to him, if I was honest.
"Of course," I muttered.
I re-entered the room. I grabbed the chair from behind the desk, placed it next to the bed, and took a seat.
"Is my neck looking better, lord Montbow?" Oleander asked. He tilted his head to the side, letting his cheek rest on the pillow.
"Uh..." I leaned in and peered at the wound. I wasn't the best judge of skin abnormalities, but the swelling seemed to be less severe than it had been outside. There was a froth of blood and greenish paste on Oleander's neck, but it wasn't bubbling or expanding. "I think you're alright."
"Thank you." Oleander turned back to me.
I still read unconditional trust in his gaze, even after I'd betrayed him by letting Ytel's men insult him. A stone settled in my stomach. I'd even told him to stand down.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you," I blurted. "About the antidote, I mean."
A small smile appeared on Oleander's lips. "It was difficult to believe, I realise that," he said. "Don't feel bad."
Oleander looked at my right hand. After a brief hesitation, he reached for it. I shivered as his fingers brushed against mine. Oleander's palm felt warm and dry, and as if on its own, my wrist turned so our fingers could entwine. Oleander tightened his grip. I didn't let go either, despite my cheeks burning. If my mother or Endris or anyone walked in right now, this would be very incriminating.
"If this is too bold, please let me know," Oleander said softly.
I was about to open my mouth and tell him holding hands was fine since he was ill, but that didn't seem to be what he meant.
"If I may ask..." Oleander paused. "What happened to you family? Why are these men after you this way? You and Ytel seemed on good terms earlier when we met at the Last Stop."
I snorted. "That looked like on good terms to you?"
"You aren't? He calls you lord."
Oleander looked genuinely surprised, reminding me of his innocence in matters of the court despite being a brilliant herbalist. I shook my head with a smile. "Oleander, whenever someone from the knights or nobility smiles at you, remember, it may not actually be a kind gesture."
Oleander's eyes grew wide as he stared at me.
"No, not my smiles," I hastily added. "Those are real. I'm not trying to trick you."
Oleander gave my hand a small squeeze. "Alright. I would be sad if you weren't honest with me."
"I am honest with you," I promised, and I was, mostly. I didn't tell him everything. I didn't let Oleander know that my heart was pounding, and that I would hold his hand even if he wasn't ill and in need of support.
"Anyway, your question. I suppose it's better if you hear it from me than from the people in town." I let out a mirthless chuckle. Already, I felt my throat dry up thinking of uncle Harold. It wasn't easy to talk about this, but Oleander had just saved all of us. He deserved to know.
"The Montbows were originally merchants, as I've already told you before," I said. "We were so good at setting up trading posts that my ancestors were elevated to nobility over a hundred years ago. For being the first merchants successful in setting up a trade route with port Richris on the other side of the sea."
I sighed. "After my grandfather passed away, our uncle Harold took over and ran the Montbow locations overseas in port Richris. He was wildly successful, or so it seemed. We trusted in him since the coin kept flowing. But my uncle was rash in his decision taking, and a swindler and a thief. He had been racking up debt and conning investors, rich and poor. His workers finally revolted on the islands, and it got bloody."
Oleander nodded in understanding. "Your father trusted his brother, who turned out to be a bad person."
"Yes," I said. "And Father's signature is also underneath many contracts uncle Harold made. My father is a warrior, not a bookkeeper. He signed, trusting his older brother blindly. Now, we can't show our faces on the Richris islands because any Montbow will get shot on sight by the sailors. The townsfolk here at the Thundercoast are mad because they suffer under our ruined reputation, too. They can no longer trade, and unsavoury debt collectors travel through town to come to us. When there's trouble or unrest in this region, it's always tied to our family."
"Yes, but that is not your fault," Oleander protested. "You must have been but a child when this happened. You did nothing wrong!"
"Maybe I didn't personally, but try explaining that to the folks in town," I said. "They are right that debt collectors come here because uncle Harold is gone now. Killed in the fray with revolting sailors. That bastard. We are the only ones left now. The only door debt collectors can knock on to demand their money back."
Oleander was silent for a moment. His eyes travelled to our entwined fingers. "Your sister Gisela mentioned selling the Bleeding Ivy antidote in town."
"Yes, she did," I said. "And I apologise for that, too. Gisela can be rather forward. She thinks five steps ahead, but she doesn't consider what other people think about those steps, nor that what she wants may not be possible. It's not our antidote. It's yours."
Oleander bit his lip. He raised his eyes to meet mine. "If giving it to you means I can stay with you, the recipe to the antidote is yours."
There was that same unyielding determination edged in Oleander's face again. The iridescent green of his irises almost seemed to radiate in the dim light and mesmerised me. "Oleander, you don't have to gift me anything," I breathed. "The Montbows made their own problems, and we should find solutions to them ourselves. You should sell your antidote yourself. It's your knowledge."
"Perhaps, but I can't do that anyway, can I?" Oleander replied. "The moment I leave the Montbow mansion to become a merchant, I will be alone. Ytel's men, or other people who hear that I can make antidotes, will try to capture me and force me to share the recipe before killing me."
I grimaced. "Well, at least you learned fast. I suppose that's true. They know your worth now. I can't say they won't try to take you if they find you on the road."
"And if I travel with Endris, I would put him in danger too," Oleander pointed out with a sad frown.
"Yes, you're right," I had to admit again. "But you don't have to give me the antidote."
"Your father was right, however. Your family needs the extra mouth they feed to be useful," Oleander pointed out. "If that's my use... The way to convince your family that I am worthy of staying beside a storm-touched, so be it."
What my mother had said in the foyer implied she had a whole other 'use' for Oleander in mind. She wanted him to be my friend, which absolutely didn't mean he'd be my friend. I fought the urge to hide my face in sheer embarrassment.
"Besides," Oleander continued, "there is one more reason for me to be here. I would hope the antidote sells and word spreads all the way to Wildewall. If I received an invitation to visit Wildewall, I would want to see the elven artefact in the queen's staff. It's all I know of my people. I can't go alone, but I could travel with your family."
"Oleander..." I trailed off. Everything he said hinted at him wanting to stay without attempting to reach the Starcross woods first. My eyes darted to the ajar door. "Wait one moment."
As I stood, I gently freed my hand from Oleander's grasp. I walked to the door, checked if there was nobody in the hall, then closed it and turned the key in the lock.
Oleander shot me a quizzical look from the bed. I sat back down, and he immediately reached for my hand again. A moment of silence fell. Oleander watched me intently, clearly waiting for me to speak.
I leaned a little closer to him and lowered my voice. "You realise that if you stay by my side, you will have to hide who you are from everyone but Endris and me?" I whispered. "And that if they see your ears, they may not look kindly upon you anymore, no matter what you did for them. No matter how much you helped."
Oleander's gaze went distant and dull for a moment. Then he nodded. "I realise," he said. "But perhaps there will be a moment that I can tell them in the future. You accepted me for who I am."
"Yes, but few people are as smart as I am," I joked. "I know a good person when I see one."
Though, I couldn't say Oleander's sparkling eyes, the curve of his lips, and his long hair and beautiful face hadn't steered that decision. And saving him hadn't meant he had my trust from the beginning. I had mistrusted him for being an elf. Had.
Oleander freed his hand from my grasp. He propped himself up on his elbows before shifting himself upright. Suddenly, Oleander's face was very close to mine, and he kept leaning in until I felt his breath from his parted lips. Tension coiled in my body. My pulse drummed in my throat. I should stop him... but why should I? I wasn't married. Everyone knew my tastes. I shut my eyes and allowed Oleander to briefly press his lips to mine. A feather light touch.
Immediately after, Oleander leaned back. The sheets rustled. When I opened my eyes, I saw Oleander had moved to the other side of the bed. He bit his bottom lip with wide eyes. "Sorry," he apologised. It's hard to stop myself when you look at me. You are very handsome. I know you find this inappropriate."
"It is." I said. The only thing that stopped me from grinning like a fool was the fact that Oleander looked genuinely scared he'd offended me. I placed my palms on the sheets and shifted my weight forward so I could press another peck to Oleander's lips. When our lips brushed together again, Oleander sucked in a sharp breath.
"Very inappropriate," I said.
Oleander smiled sheepishly at me, which also made me smile.
"Get some sleep. I'll inform the rest of the family about your decision to stay here and help us sell the antidote. I'll come back later."
"Alright," Oleander murmured.
I floated to the door, pulled on the handle, and when it didn't open, realised I forgot I had locked it. From behind me, Oleander laughed quietly. I shot him a sheepish smile over my shoulder, then unlocked the door and left the room.
The moment I was out of sight, I staggered and pressed my back against the wall with a wide grin. I raised my fingers to my tingling lips, knowing my mind would be reeling for a while. But I also couldn't remember the last time I felt this good.
Once my face no longer felt beet-red, I went downstairs to find my family members. Thankfully, my mother was no longer in the foyer. Father was nowhere to be found either, but Gisela and Conrad were still in front of the mansion.
I approached my brother and sister, jutting a thumb over my shoulder. "Before you start selling something you don't own, Oleander is willing to share the antidote with us," I informed them. "In case you forgot that was actually an important aspect of being able to sell this too."
"Great, then at least you did something useful today," Conrad retorted.
I rolled my eyes.
Gisela acknowledged my words with a curt nod and moved on to the next topic. "How did Oleander learn of this antidote?" she asked. "Father said he wasn't a herbalist."
"He lost his memory. How is he supposed to know how he knows?" I said, while making an eye sweep of the cliffs. "And where did Endris go? I had expected him to come see Oleander."
"Running the errands meant for Oleander," Conrad said. "Antidote boy is no longer leaving our protection, as per mother's orders. He's been promoted from an errand runner to someone important." Conrad shrugged." And now that we have his blessing, we need a plan how to get the materials needed for this antidote without being followed or have it be stolen."
"Without horses, it will be difficult to gather herbs fast and safely," Gisela said. "We should divide our tasks as soon as possible and spend our first profit buying new horses." She looked at me. "Laurence, I suggest you stay with Oleander and guard him. Oleander will provide a list of what he needs, and the rest of us can forage at night or in the early morning before dawn."
Conrad folded his arms in front of his chest. "I'm not foraging. I'm going to town with the remains of the antidote. I already have a few contacts in town who will be most interested in this."
My eyes fell on Oleander's bag, which was now at Conrad's waist. "How will you convince them it's real?" I asked.
There was a dark glint in Conrad's mismatched eyes. "I would say Oleander has also provided us with an excellent way of proving it, wouldn't you?"
Without awaiting our response, Conrad started walking toward the stables. He'd vanish for a few hours, then return. Conrad often travelled to town that way, allowing no one to come with him. I had no idea what he did there, but he always came back in one piece, and he loathed uncle Harold more than any of us did. I didn't believe he was out gambling or swindling like Valda had sometimes whispered in my ear.
"Laurence," Gisela addressed me. "Let us share our plan with the rest of the family, shall we? There's much work to do."