Belle Revolte - Linsey Miller Page 0,53

of the other students. It was a more than bearable way to spend a morning.

When I got back to my room after work, a note was resting on my pillow.

4morn

I went alone. There had been no note on Madeline’s bed, and if she were caught, the trouble would be greater for her. I stopped by the infirmary to grab the box of financiers—and make sure the guards saw me heading into the infirmary but not out of it—before slipping deeper into the dark streets to Bloodletters. It was the only thing the note could have meant, and if not, I had pastries at least.

I rapped on the door once. The girl from before, one of the Laurels, appeared in the crack, her eyes narrowed. She yanked me inside, and on a table in the center of the bar rested a small person whose entire right arm was drenched in dried blood. Laurel shut the door behind me and gestured to the newcomer. I dropped my financiers on an empty table.

“What happened?” I asked, already gathering magic.

“Save your healing arts,” Laurel said, nervously fiddling with the locket around her neck. “This is another Laurel. They took a knife to the arm. You can stitch, right?”

“Of course.” I peeled back the newcomer’s sleeve, and they hissed. “How long ago was this?”

The newcomer winced. “Half a day? I was traveling for most of it.”

“The blood has stuck your shirt to the wound,” I said. “I’ll need water.”

I set to peeling the shirt away. The cut wasn’t too deep or damaging, but it took long enough that I was only halfway done when they started up their third conversation over my head. They spoke about soldiers and quartering, unease in Bosquet which made me nervous, and a few missing old hacks they couldn’t find. I used my healing arts, channeling it slowly into the nerves, despite Laurel’s warning; there was no need for this newcomer to deal with the pain. They didn’t seem to mind and muttered their thanks after the first few passes of the needle.

“Am I allowed to know your chosen name?” I cleaned out the bottom edge of the cut.

“Would you like to know a secret, hack?” my patient asked. “We’re all Laurel.”

“That’s very confusing.” I opened the satchel the newcomer had set before me and shifted through the supplies. “Have you ever had a bad reaction to pain syrups?”

“Yes!” They beckoned my Laurel over and held out their coat. “The normal ones make my heart race, but I have an alchemist who makes me some.”

Laurel searched through their coat until she found a small blue vial and handed it to me. I uncorked it, inhaled—amazingly concentrated—and handed it to the newcomer.

“That is very strong. Don’t take it until you’re ready to fall asleep or won’t need to walk in a straight line for a while.” I pointed to the financiers. “And take one of those.”

Laurel looked in the box and whistled. “You sure you want to give these away?”

“I don’t like sweet things.” I hadn’t wanted to tell Charles; it was a kind gesture. “And you definitely shouldn’t drink any of that without eating.”

“Yeah, she warned me,” said the newcomer.

I cleared my throat and paused cleaning up. “You said there was unease in Bosquet?”

“I did.” The newcomer looked me up and down, all the exhaustion leaving their face. “Why? That accent, you’re not from Bosquet.”

“No, but I have friends there.”

“People are uncomfortable with some of the comte’s new statements about Laurel.” Laurel grinned. “Something’s coming. We’ve got two people scrying for us, and Demeine’s army and its chevaliers are on the move to Segance.”

“The scryers gave me the whole guard schedule for Serre’s barracks,” said the newcomer. “I only nearly got caught because there was some sort of meeting tonight, and I wanted to see what it was about.”

“We mean to be ready when it happens, and Bosquet’s probably getting there a touch sooner because Chevalier du Ferrant’s being ornery.” Laurel put the box of pastries back in my empty arms and led me to the door. “We’re going to needs hacks to heal us. You all right doing that under Laurence du Montimer’s nose?”

“Yes.” Change was coming, something good, something worthwhile. It was the least I could do. “Of course.”

After that, Laurel called Madeline, Rainier, or me to heal her and her visiting Laurels often. I went more often than not, Madeline and I afraid of her being even the least bit conspicuous given what Physician du Guay had

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