The triangle of royal buildings looked even more unbalanced once they passed the gate. That was the first thing Emelda noticed as the heavy iron rolled shut behind them. She glanced at her father who gave her an encouraging nod, placing his good hand on her back and walking her with him quickly, "Come, dear, we don't have much time."

"Yes, father," she muttered, small feet moving rapidly over the cobblestones to keep up with her father's long strides without breaking into a run.

She hadn't been within the palace grounds many times so despite the seriousness of the situation she found herself looking around at the servants and royal guards as they went about their day. As they neared the sharp spires of the Silva Estate she noticed that the servants were moving faster, there were more guards with far scarier expressions. Her mouth went dry and as much as she tried to fight it she found herself grabbing the edge of her father's cloak.

She couldn't think of anything she'd done, at least, nothing that would have gotten her in trouble with one of the royal families. After all, the Luischamp family was small. A slowly vanishing family of mages with little inherent combat ability. There had been a time when they'd been notable, her grandmother even had familial ties to the current King and her mother was some form of cousin to the Magic Emperor, but now they only saw the highest-ranking nobles at the large holiday gatherings or grand public events. Or if their magic was needed.

She glanced at her father. Trying again to read his expression. She couldn't figure out why he would bring her with him if that's why they'd been called. By the tension in his brow and the sweat forming in small dots across his forehead, she could tell whatever was happening was serious and it made her nervous.

"We're here to-" her father began to tell a guard.

"Yes," the guard cut in, turning and pulling a door open quickly, "come quickly I'll take you to Lord Silva."

"Of course," her father nodded, pulling her along as the guard led them through the hall at a walking pace so uncomfortably fast that it felt like running would be more comfortable. Her father's hand squeezed hers softly and then let her go, brushing over the fingers that still gripped his cloak, a subtle hint to let go and walk on her own. She did, folding her hands cautiously in front of her and keeping her eyes down as they walked further and further until she lost all sense of how she would get back to the main hall.

When they rounded yet another corner a tall man in a high-collared shirt was waiting for them, face as tense and unhappy as she'd ever seen.

"Lord Silva," her father bowed, cueing her to curtsy beside him.

"I'm glad you came so quickly but," his eyes fell on her suddenly making her jump, "why have you brought your child? Did the messenger fail to inform you this is not a social call?"

"No, your highness, I'm afraid Emelda is needed here I…" her father swallowed, standing and revealing his mangled arm. Even Lord Silva winced at the sight of her father's wizened hand, blackened skin seized tight to sinew and muscle, all but mummified, "I am afraid I have only recently come in contact with a curse so strong I wasn't able to fully heal it. It took my arm and in my weakened state, I fear if I were to try and tend to your wife all that I would achieve is leaving my daughters fatherless. Worse, I may cause Lady Silva harm as well."

"So you've brought your child," Lord Silva's voice was cold. Not a drop of sympathy for her father's condition and by the way he stared her down he clearly didn't have any faith in her either.

"Yes, your highness, I am…" he paused, turning to smile softly at Emelda and circle an arm around her shoulders pulling her into him and looking back to Lord Silva, "immensely proud of my daughter. She's one of the strongest Rowan Tree Magic users our family has produced in generations. I know she's only a young girl but I'm afraid...it is all we can offer. We've rushed here without our things but servants will follow along shortly and we can stay as long as we are needed to. Should you still desire our help?"

Lord Silva was quiet for a moment. Eyes coldly studying Emelda as though he thought he could see her magical aptitude just by looking at her, "You're prepared for this then?"

"I'll do my best, your highness," she choked, her voice coming out tight and weak.

"Meaning you've never healed someone on your own."

"I have, your highness, only...Lady Silva is a very important person and I've yet to see her…I just…don't want to give any false hope. Still...I will do my best."

He went quiet again but Emelda didn't look up at him, instead, she kept her eyes focused on the ground before him. Her father squeezed her shoulder supportively but he didn't speak.

`"Fine…" Lord Silva said as he turned and began walking, "I will show you to my wife. Come quickly," Lord Silva was a tall man, stern and serious every time she'd ever seen him. She'd rarely spent any time around him, as at every large party or social event the children were always sequestered somewhere out of the way of their parents, but on the rare occasion she'd been around him she always found herself rushing off and hiding behind her parents. Despite his rigid personality, he moved with inhuman grace, fitting for such a powerful water magic mage, his blue cape rippled behind him like the tide and Emelda focused on it to distract herself.

"Has Lord Luischamp come to help Mother?" a young man's voice spoke from in front of Lord Silva.

Emelda leaned to the side, glancing around him and saw the three Silva children standing by the door. As soon as she leaned around his father Nozel's eyes shifted to her. It reminded her of a snake, smooth and cold but ready to strike. Incredibly intimidating for a fourteen-year-old boy to manage.

"Did I not ask you all to leave your mother's doors," Lord Silva stood straighter.

"But father-" Nebra began but as soon as her father looked at her again she froze, frowning and looking to the ground until Solid began to cry and she leaned over to pat his head and guide him toward her.

Lord Silva turned, motioning for her to step forward, "This is Emelda Luischamp and her father, Lord Janus Luischamp. I am sure you've met them. They will stay with us and tend to your mother. Now. Let them work."

Nebra began walking away, Solid still clinging to her skirt as he tried to control his tears, but she stopped when she realized Nozel didn't follow them, "Brother…?"

"She is just a girl, Father," Nozel frowned up at Lord Silva, not bothering to look at Emelda.

"Lord Luischamp is injured so Emelda is needed to assist your mother," Lord Silva explained.

"Still, she's only a girl. What can a girl her age do for Mother?" Nozel seemed irritated, he seemed as though he knew something. It made her more scared, and worse, it made her feel ashamed of her limited control of her magic. Her father hadn't lied, it did seem as though she'd grow to have stronger magic than any Luischamp in recent history, but she was still just a girl. She hadn't even gotten her grimoire yet and the longer they stood outside of Lady Silva's chambers the more afraid she was of what she would see when she walked inside.

"Nozel," Lord Silva spoke, stern and glowering at Nozel who stood strong for a moment, as if to confirm he wasn't afraid of his father, before turning and following his younger siblings up the hall without looking back.

"Let us not waste any more time," Lord Silva said as though Nozel hadn't uttered a word of protest. He drew a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, letting Emelda and her father walk in first before shutting the door behind him and replacing the loud steel lock. The room was surprisingly plain for a member of royalty's chambers. The floors were a warm cherry color and the high windows were barely covered by lace curtains that trailed from the ceiling to the floor.

When Emelda's eyes finally fell on the figure in the bed she froze. A rush filled her head, damping her hearing and making her dizzy. She felt hot suddenly and she stepped back. As soon as she did her father's hand moved to her back, fingers spread wide, pushing against her to keep her from stepping back any further. When she looked up at him he was staring down, an apologetic but pleading gaze. The sort of look he'd give her when he wanted her to be the bigger person when her sisters were being bratty.

She shuddered, holding herself but she didn't step back. Her father needed her to do this. Lady Silva needed her to do this. She just wasn't prepared to see her. Something had turned her, the most beautiful woman Emelda had ever seen, into a gaunt and discolored figure. Her breathing was slow and it sounded painful.

"She's gotten worse every day," Lord Silva said, his expression flat, "Please begin now."

Emelda looked back at her father for permission and when he nodded she wandered forward slowly, feet gliding over the floor as if to ensure it was solid enough to hold her weight. She walked to the edge of Acier's bed and looked into her glassy greyish-purple eyes. She took a deep breath and pulled the sheet away slightly so she could place her hands on Acier's arm. She breathed deeply, imagining her mana flowing around her. Before she began she whispered, "I'll do my best for you, Lady Silva." She was about to begin when she thought she felt Lady Silva push against her as though trying to stop her. Emelda paused, looking at Acier's pained face. Had she imagined it? Acier was still now, sweat covering her brow. Lord Silva cleared his throat and Emelda pressed her hands to Acier's arm and let the reddish-orange glow of her magic fill the room.

"Is that girl…" Solid sniveled, his voice thick from his tears, "going to fix momma."

Nozel frowned back at him, making Solid shrink behind Nebra's skirt, "I doubt it. She's even younger than I am. What could a little girl know that our healers don't?"

Solid's mouth began to wobble, eyes welling with tears. Nebra sighed, frowning at Nozel slightly as she picked Solid up just in time to cut off a sob, "come on, I'll read you a book...or something…"

She turned without looking back, Solid staring at him over his shoulders as they shrank down the hallway. He sighed once they were gone, turning back toward the door. His blood had run cold when his father shut the door and it was no better now. He couldn't tell his father why he was so resistant to the girl healing his mother. If he did his father would be cursed, or worse Nebra or Solid would hear and the curse would surely take them quick. He hadn't even thought about the healers his father might employ. She was just a girl. What if Megicula's curse killed her immediately? They would never have let her touch Acier if they knew the truth. He felt helpless and it made him sick.

Suddenly the door was unlatched and Nozel quickly moved back, ducking into an alcove to avoid the eyes of his father.

"Thank you, Lord Silva, for trusting us with this," Lord Luischamp said, bowing slightly as they stepped into the hallway.

His father leaned his head back looking down at Luischamp. It wasn't obvious but he'd softened somewhat. Nozel could tell by the way his shoulders sloped. "She's impressive," he said, "for such a young child. And her composure as well."

"Yes well…" Luischamp lifted his arm letting his sleeve slide back revealing his arm. Nozel jolted. He hadn't noticed before but Luischamp's arm was practically black, glossy and twisted. Long cracks ran up the arm. It turned his stomach to see it so suddenly. He thought of his mother in her sick bed. Luischamp sighed, "I'm afraid Emelda has seen quite a lot already, given the application of our magic and my incident, if she can help me to mend a curse such as this I'm sure she can ease your wife's pain."

"Yes. I see. Well I hope you are proud of her," his father said, turning, "come, there is more I wish to discuss before we return to the room."

Luischamp glanced at the door and then back, "If...would it be all right for us to return shortly? It's only that I don't want to leave her on her own for too long."

"Of course," his father nodded, before turning and walking on without looking back for Luischamp who followed seconds later.

Nozel waited until the sounds of their shoes had just faded away and then he walked to the door quickly and pulled it open and slipped inside. If Emelda noticed she didn't react, she stayed facing toward his mother, concentrating on what she was doing. Her magic was lighting up the room with a bright reddish-orange glow like sitting by a fire. When he stepped closer he could see the shape of a tree appearing to grow out of the center of his mother's chest. The tree swayed as though it was in a gentle breeze, occasionally a leaf would turn black and fall disintegrating before it hit the floor. Beyond the tree he could see his mother's face; far more colorful and peaceful than he'd seen in days, "How…"

Emelda jumped and turned toward him, causing the tree to vanish suddenly, "L-You-...your highness?"

"You don't even have a grimoire, how can you do this?"

"C...Can't you? I mean...use magic."

"Of course I can but this level seems-"

"Well, your highness, I have my father to guide me. And my ancestors as well."

Nozel nodded, walking to his mother's bedside and gazing down into her face. Her breathing was more even, her eyes were finally fully shut, and her eyebrows were unfurrowed. He raised an eyebrow at her. She seemed fine, physically though her eyes darted across his face nervously.

"Can I...continue?"

"No."

"Your highness-"

"Do you know?"

Her eyes widened. Then she looked down into his mother's face. The girl swallowed, "Why doesn't your father?"

"I can't tell him."

She looked at him confused but she didn't ask. He sighed, tugging on the collar of his shirt to reveal the ring around his neck, the mark of Megicula's curse.

She gasped, hand instinctively reaching toward his throat, but he grabbed her wrist stopping her, "Your highness-"

"Don't. It doesn't matter. I'm not hurt, only prevented from…"

He stopped. He'd already spoken too much. What if he got her cursed? As soon as someone else knew it could spread uncontrolled and cause devastation in the kingdom.

"I already know…" she offered, "I am not cursed. If anyone would know it is me."

Slowly she turned her hand over in his, the gentle glow of her magic radiating between them, "if trying to heal your mother did not curse me I don't think you speaking of something I learned independently would. But…you can speak around it. After all, you aren't telling me."

He blinked. It seemed like she was splitting hairs, somewhat flippantly given the circumstances and it made him frown at her.

She took her hand from his turning back to his mother and affectionately smoothing her hair, a surprisingly familiar gesture for someone that had seemed so nervous, "Curses are very particular with their words. The fact that there can be little particulars like that, it's what makes it stronger. The ability for it to be bypassed in some way, at least, by the people that know how. Like a Rowan Tree magic user."

"...Could you heal her?" he asked, stunning himself. He didn't like looking to this girl for help any more than he liked the lingering feeling that she was in danger. But the idea that his mother could be saved was overwhelming.

"I don't know," she frowned, "it's very strong. I…I don't want to lie. It was scary to discover by trying to heal her…I think she even tried to stop me but the curse is…," she stopped and swallowed, looking at him as she steeled herself, "I will do everything that I can for her."

He stared at her face for a moment. She'd been so nervous and shy when she first appeared before him but now she looked brave. A determined flash in the pale yellow of her eyes.

He nodded, "As long as you don't speak of it with anyone but me."

"Very well…your highness but…can I continue?"

"...Yes."

"Ah...thank you, your highness."

He nodded, watching as the tree bloomed forth again. It truly was as beautiful as he heard. Rowan Tree Magic was a famously ancient magic that passed through the Luischamp family. Of all the anti-curse magics it was the most powerful, able to protect people from devils and break curses no other mage could hope to undo and because of that it had incredibly healing properties regardless of the ailments nature. Because of their unique magic the Luischamp family were kept at noble rank despite their otherwise small influence, they kept to themselves, carried their own traditions, and shied away from noble gatherings and society drama.

He didn't really know much about them. They weren't part of royalty and since they didn't try to stay involved with higher society there hadn't been much reason. Now he wished he had. He knew he'd seen Emelda before. He recognized her deep blue-green hair and yellow eyes. Her skin was tan and dark freckles pricked over her nose. He knew he must have seen her before but he couldn't place her.

He sat in the chair across from her, watching as her magic worked. Beyond the tree being made of her mana, it looked like a Rowan tree; straight trunked and full of eagle-feather-shaped leaves and clumps of berries. He watched as the black leaves fell from the bows of the tree, "Is this the curse? Leaving her?"

"It's meant to be, yes, your highness."

"Meant to?"

Emelda frowned at him softly, glancing at her magic, then back at his mother, "It's only...it is an awful curse, I can't be sure it's leaving in any meaningful way. I mean. If it leaves and there's still enough to keep her very sick then…"

"I see." He wasn't sure he was ready for her to finish, worse, he felt he knew what it was going to be and he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to lose his mother. Especially not like this.

Emelda's face twisted up and he realized she was trying to hold back the tears that were shaking in her eyes. She took a shaky breath, her magic managing to hold despite her emotions but before she could speak the door opened again.

"Nozel!" His father called from the door, "You were told to leave this room."

He thought about fighting. Forcing her father to let him stay. He wanted to see if she was truly going to have a chance of saving his mother. Wanted to watch the admittedly beautiful magic of the Rowan Tree that he'd heard about all through his life. And he needed to ensure she was safe as she did it. After all, no one else knew what was truly happening but himself, her, and his ailing mother.

"Your Highness," Lord Luischamp spoke, "it's very kind that you wish to stay with your mother but Emela-"

Emelda paused, the tree spell flickering and drawing her concentration back.

"Nozel," his father said, "to your chambers."

Nozel pushed himself up from his chair, staring into his mother's face for a while, trying to memorize the peaceful expression before he lost sight of her as he walked toward the door.

"We will leave you to the healing, when you get tired please inform a servant and retire to your chamber," his father said.

"Thank you, your highness," Lord Luischamp said, bowing to them. Emelda said nothing. She didn't move at all. She focused on her magic and Nozel stared at her until his father shut the door between them.