Meredith.
I had barely digested breakfast. The turkey blanket and orange juice still weighed heavily on my stomach, dragging me into a slow, sluggish walk through the backyard gardens.
Azul trailed behind me like a shadow, her footsteps light, but persistent.
"My lady," she called softly, "will you be taking the concoction this afternoon?"
I winced. The thought alone made my tongue curl. That bitter brew had numbed my taste buds, and I was beginning to question if my tongue would ever feel again. I shook my head without turning to her.
"No. I'm not tasting that vile thing again until nightfall," I muttered, bringing a hand to my stomach. "Twice a day is enough torture."
If I had my chance, I would throw the entire pot out without minding the hours of effort that went into the preparation. And if I had another option, I would never try to undergo this horrible torture.
Azul sighed behind me. Then sighed again. And again. Until I couldn't take it anymore.
