Chapter 35: Trusted Caregiver

Emeric read it inwardly, his teeth gritting as he neared the end of the summons.

He was representing House Halden. That damned Duke was using him again.

He lowered the scroll; his jaw tightened with rage as he tried to remain calm.

Isolde watched him. "What does it say?"

He handed her the parchment. She read it slowly, her expression shifting as she went down the piece of paper.

"House Halden," she said. "They named you."

"Apparently."

She set the scroll down, meeting his eyes.

Emeric knew that there was no way the family had decided this on their own. They had to have been strong armed by the queen or something.

"Kaelen will be furious."

"I don’t care what Kaelen thinks. I care about being a pawn for the duke’s game for power."

She studied him, reading the tension in his shoulders. He was pissed and he did not try to hide it.

"Are you going?"

He looked at the scroll, dragging his thumbs across the royal seal.

"I don’t have a choice."

"There’s always a choice."

"Not one that doesn’t cost us everything." He turned to her. "If I refuse, I lose standing. The house loses standing. We lose the protection of being connected to Halden."

She was quiet.

"Besides," he continued, "I need this."

"Need what?"

"To prove to them that I cannot be bullied by them any longer. The duel was one thing. This is another. If I can prove myself in the Hunt, they’ll stop seeing me as the failure."

She was silent for a long moment.

"And what about me?"

He crossed the room to her, kneeling in front of her chair as he took her hands in his.

"I’ll find someone to take care of you. Someone you can trust. I won’t leave you alone."

She looked at him. Her eyes searching his face.

"Three days?"

"Three days."

"I don’t like it."

"I know."

"But you’re going anyway."

"I have to."

She pulled her hands from his grip and reached for his face. Her fingers tracing his jaw.

"Then come back in three days."

"I will."

She pulled him into a kiss.

"I mean it," she said. "Don’t you dare die in some forest."

"I won’t."

"You promised."

"I promised."

She held his gaze for a long moment then nodded in agreement.

---

The day had been long.

Emeric had interviewed six candidates by midday and each one was worse than the last. They were either too expensive or too curious. Some were too eager to gossip about the crippled Mage and her failure of a husband.

He was tired, frustrated and running out of time. He needed to find somebody he could trust to take care of his wife and fast.

The seventh candidate arrived at half past two.

Emeric opened the door to find a woman in her late forties standing on the porch. She had a round, kind face with gentle eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. Her greying hair was pulled back in a practical bun. She wore a simple dress, neat and clean, with a shawl over her shoulders against the afternoon chill. A small bag hung from her shoulder.

"Lord Halden?"

"Yes."

He was fairly taken aback being addressed as a Lord even though his father was a duke.

"I’m Tatia. I heard you were looking for a caregiver."

Her voice was warm in a motherly fashion. There was something in it that made Emeric pause.

"Please, come in."

He stepped aside, watching her as she entered. She moved unhurriedly, her gaze sweeping the entryway briefly before settling back on him with an observant look.

"My wife is in the sitting room," he said. "I’d like you to meet her first."

"Of course. That’s the most important part."

Emeric led her to the sitting room to find Isolde by the window; her chair angled toward the light.

The other candidates he had interviewed never made it to this stage. They did not have what it took to be taken seriously by him to even make it to meeting her.

Isolde turned at the sound of their footsteps.

"Isolde, this is Tatia."

Tatia stepped forward, her body held upright. She didn’t crouch in the patronizing way that he had noticed people do when speaking to Isolde. She simply met Isolde’s eyes and smiled.

"Hello, dear. It’s nice to meet you."

Isolde studied her. Her expression was guarded, the way it always was with strangers.

"Your husband tells me you’re looking for someone to help."

"I’m looking for someone who can help," he corrected.

Tatia nodded. "I understand."

She pulled a chair closer and sat down. Not too close and not too far. It was just right distance.

"I’ve been doing this work for a long time," she began. "I’ve cared for all kinds of people. Young, old, sick, injured. I know it’s not easy to trust a stranger with something so personal."

Isolde said nothing.

"That’s why I want you to know something. I’m not here to judge. I’m not here to gossip. I’m here to help however I can. If you need something, I’ll do my best to provide it. If you want to be left alone, I’ll sit quietly in the corner. If you want to talk, I’ll listen."

She paused.

"And if at any point you’re unhappy with my care, just tell your husband. I’ll leave. No questions asked."

The room was quiet.

Isolde’s eyes didn’t leave Tatia’s face. Emeric could see her searching for something. For the lie. The hidden agenda. The thing that would make this too good to be true.

Then she spoke.

"Why?"

Tatia tilted her head. "Why am I doing this work?"

Isolde gave a faint nod.

Tatia’s expression changed into a reminiscent one. Like she was digging into an old memory. Emeric studied her as something seemed to play behind her eyes. Perhaps it was old grief or pain.

"I lost my daughter twelve years ago."

The words hung in the air.

"She was sick. Very sick. I did everything I could—took her to healers, mages, specialists. But nothing worked." She paused. "In the end, all I could do was sit beside her bed and hold her hand. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t take away her pain. I could only be there."