For werewolves, medicine was somewhat unnecessary. They had regeneration, which healed their wounds and injuries. However, they still got sick, though these occurrences were rare. For a werewolf to get sick usually indicated a fatal situation. Hence, the existence of healers for such a phenomenon.
The only reason they were carrying medicines with them was that they had a human in their company. Thankfully, Damien had procured quite a few during their brief stay in Aethera. He told Ronin it was so their healers could study the human medicines, but it was actually because he knew Solenne was not in good shape.
He might have expected King Jaro to delay her departure, but he prepared just in case.
Last night had proven he had made the right decision.
As Damien walked back to the stables and checked the carriage for Solenne, he paused when a soft gust of wind blew past him. Her lingering scent wafted through his nostrils, reminding him of how her scent clung to him and seemed to have planned to stay—not just on him, but in his head for good.
****
Last Night…
When Damien left Solenne in the carriage, hearing Callista going back to the group after she was called by the members for help, he had plans to let them know that the princess was unwell. However, he didn't need to, because the moment Callista returned, she checked on the carriage.
Callista tried a few times, and when she didn't get a response, she mustered the courage to check in on the princess. Hence, she panicked and let everyone know about the princess's condition.
In the end, they split into a small group to find the nearest inn where Solenne could rest.
Once they found a place, Damien remained in the back and just watched things unfold from the sidelines.
By nighttime, as he and a few members of the pack were eating in a tavern, something caught his attention.
"I wonder if the little princess will recover by tomorrow," one of the members blurted out as he chugged down a drink, wiping his mouth with his arm. "From what I heard, she was terrible at drinking medicine."
"So much for being royalty," another one spat out, clearly having had enough drinks. "Humans are quite fragile. Just one minor sickness, and they're gone back underground."
Ronin frowned, cupping his flushed cheek. "What do you mean by that?"
The one who had brought up Solenne's situation shrugged. "The dame that was with her was in distress as she tried to find a healer around town. I heard it was because the princess doesn't wake up at all and wouldn't take the medicines we have for her."
"What's the point of preparing medicines if she wouldn't take them?"
Ronin's frown deepened as he thought about it. "How could she not take it?"
"It's because medicines are bitter!" one of them around the table laughed. "I tasted one before, and they're just as bad as the medicines from our healers!"
"But if the princess's condition worsened, the Kingdom of Aethera won't blame us, would they?" Ronin wondered, and with that question, they intuitively turned to the end of the table where Damien was seated.
Much to their dismay, his seat was empty, and the wooden glass was empty.
"Where did he go?" Ronin blurted out, moving his eyes to the entrance, only to see the flimsy door swinging to and fro. "What? Does that mean they'd blame us and start a war if she dies of fever?"
****
Meanwhile, Damien left not because he planned to rush to her or because he was worried about any war between the wolves of the North and the land of sorcery, the Kingdom of Aethera. The only reason he left was that he simply wanted to rest and have some quietness and peace.
That would be impossible if he stayed longer with his men.
Since the inn was small, Damien had reserved it for Solenne and Callista to use. There were other rooms for them, but knowing how loud his men were, all of them were staying outside the inn or in their camps.
As for Damien, he idled by the tree meters from the inn.
His side leaned against the trunk, tearing a piece of leaf, eyes on the small establishment. And for some reason, his men's words echoed in his head like a broken record.
"From what I heard, she was terrible at drinking medicine."
"Humans are quite fragile. Just one minor sickness, and they're gone back underground."
"I heard it was because the princess doesn't wake up at all and wouldn't take the medicines we have for her."
A look of displeasure crept onto his face as he thought about it.
"If she's already brave enough to hide her fever, she should be brave enough to drink a bitter medicine."
Pushing himself away from the trunk, he turned on his heel and walked away. In his mind, perhaps a quick night run would tire him out. However, even after hours of running all by himself, in the end, he found himself standing in Solenne's room—a place he had been avoiding—in the middle of the night.
Standing by the bed, his eyes shifted to Callista. The latter was seated on the floor, her arms on the edge of the bed. By the looks of it, Callista had fallen asleep while taking care of her.
When his gaze drifted to the small bedside table, he caught the untouched medicine and herbals for Solenne. Damien quietly reached out to Solenne, who was drenched with sweat as her eyes underneath her lids flickered uncomfortably.
The moment his palm touched her forehead, his eyes sharpened.
She's hotter than when I left her in the carriage, he thought, and yet, he noticed that despite her temperature, she was shivering until he touched her.
"Mhm," she moaned as she turned her head, following where the warmth was coming from.
His brows rose, moving closer to her as it seemed she needed some warmth. Although he was in his human form, his body temperature was different from that of normal humans. His hand carefully slid to her cheek, and she leaned her face on his palm.
"You should drink your medicine," he whispered, low enough not to wake up Callista. But Solenne remained asleep.
Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind: Was this the reason she didn't want anyone to know she was sick? She didn't want to take medicine?
Quite a shallow reasoning, but it was a possibility.
He frowned slightly as he reached out and picked up the medicine in the small teacup.
"Open your mouth," he whispered, moving the teacup to her lips. He pinched her chin and tried to open it, pouring some of it into her mouth. However, most of it just spilled.
"Bi... bitter," she murmured in her sleep, head turning. Solenne clutched his arm, her brows knitted tightly.
"…" Damien studied her in silence before he glanced in Callista's direction.
His wolf told him that whatever was on his mind might not be a good idea. However, his mind manufactured all reasonable justifications for why she needed the medicine. Moving the teacup from near her to his mouth, Damien took the entire cup and kept the medicine in his mouth.
Bitter, indeed.
The taste was more like a poison to kill than to cure, but he trusted its effect, regardless. He cupped her face and moved her head.
Slowly, he lowered his head, feeding her the medicine from his mouth... to hers.