Minerva 3rd Year Royal Academy

I watched the Little Flower and his entourage leave. His back was just a little straighter as he walked. Relief snaked through me almost stealing my ability to remain standing. No, need for his scholar who played at being an attendant to see me face plant into the mud. Justus kept casting glances back at me and occasionally the trees above me before they were lost in the sea of trees. I waited until I was sure they had moved on before allowing myself to notice my wrecked shoulder. A pained hiss escaped through my teeth.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? How did you convince him to look for me, Peter?"

There was a soft splat from a pair of boots landing in the mud next to me. Peter's molted cloak fluttered around me from how closely to me he landed. Even despite the pain and annoyance towards him I felt, I still wanted to lean into his warmth and inhale the scent of him. Already he was carefully peeling pack my cloak and shirt to check my wound. He whistled softly.

"That's some impressive bruising there, love."

I glanced at him and saw the skin was already starting to take on a pleather of shades of purple and blue. "Don't change the subject." I glared at those bright orange eyes.

He chuckled. "I did nothing of the sort. Besides, he is safe and healing thanks to you. Aren't you satisfied?"

Satisfied? I wanted to roar my anger to the fucking gods and then reduce this world to ash. Someone was trying to kill a child. A fucking child. M- I cut that thought off. "How can I be satisfied?" I growled, knowing my eyes flashed with a rainbow of colors, and a blue aura stained the air around me. "He lives with the one who attempted to kill him! I will not be satisfied, not he is safe. Not until she is made to suffer for everything she has done. There is not enough blood in her body or family that could be shed to satisfy my rage. Not until I drag her to gates of hell." My rage washed over Peter. A feral storm that would have torn and crushed anyone else. My love simply held my gaze. No fear, or judgement, only acceptance. If I was a hurricane that raged, he was the eye of the storm that remained calm even after all the devastation laid bare before him.

"We will have our vengeance." We, that's right, we were together, till death and beyond. "But you need to be patient, love. Act too swiftly and you risk Ferdinand's life. He would be the one most heavily suspected if something happened to the first lady." He was gently probing around wounded shoulder, checking for breaks. No matter how careful he was pain was sent pulsing through my body. I was starting to sweat. "Good news is, you only dislocated it."

I moaned and heard Peter take a deep breath behind me.

"Want me to put it back?"

"Of course!" I snapped. The pain was starting to steal my focus. I knew any attempt to raise that arm before it was reset would result in me losing my meager breakfast all over the forest floor. Though popping it back in place was likely going to end in the same result. But it needed to be done before I could take a potion. Sadly, magic had its limits, especially when it came to bones. Cracks and clean breaks were okay, but putting bones back in place, repairing shattered bones, or even growing bones was very risky. I shuddered remembering some particular gross results, and allowed Peter to guide me to the closet tree that large and straight enough for our purposes. Carefully, I put my wounded shoulder right next to the tree with Peter's hand firmly gripped on my good shoulder.

"On three, okay?"

I nodded.

"One." He shoved me before I could even think to resist or even brace myself. My shoulder hit the tree's slightly roughened surface. Pain exploded up my shoulder and neck stabbing into the base of my skull. In the moment I saw stars and whiteness started to encroach on my eyesight. Then there was a grinding pop and immediate stark relief as my shoulder slid back into place. I whimpered and clenched my teeth. The pain was now a dull ache that could largely be ignored if I felt so inclined. I did not.

"You did that on purpose." I accused.

"Why on earth would I leave my future wife in pain? It's not like you removed my means of finding you and sealed the charms I made to protect you. It's not like I was out of my mind with worry when you refused to answer my calls and did not tell me where you were going." He smiled at me cheerfully. A normal person would even make the mistake of believing he found the situation amusing. They would be sorely mistaken.

Right. I was in trouble. My eyes shifted to my glaive which was well out of reach. Fuck. Then I slid my hand toward the pouch on my belt that held my other-.

"Looking for something, love?" His voice purred as held up the pouch I was currently looking for. I cringed. He stepped into my personal space forcing me to turn and put my back to the tree so we weren't actively touching. I didn't even have my feystone armor on. It had been left on my desk. I could throw him, but with my back against the tree it would be much trickier. He leaned in close so his hot breath washed over my cold face sending goosebumps down my arms. "Please do not worry me like that again. I will not stop you unless I think there is a better way that I think you've overlooked. But goddammit, trust me. Let me help you." Those orange eyes scorched my insides. Desire and anger burned and melted together. Then he pressed his lips to my own, his body pressing me against the tree. It was not a sweet and gentle thing. My husband was making a demand. My heart pounded against my ribs as a sweetness filled my mouth. Mana? Kisses on earth had never been this sweet. And neither of us were naïve in matters of sex. Then he broke away and took several steps back. My lips felt swollen and there was an unmistakable sense of loss. His wicked grin played across his face. "I think that will be punishment enough."

My face got very hot. He fucking edging me! I felt the knee jerk urge to reach down and scoop up mud to fling at his pretty face. Another reason to hate this world was it was suffocatingly conservative. Even by earth's standards.

"Before you try taking out your self-righteous anger out on me, perhaps a potion? Your lips are a bit…" He trailed off, but his eyes clearly lingered on my lips. Heat rushed to my face anew.

"Just you wait." I growled.

"As long as it takes." He replied to my threat solemnly.

I took the said potion. Instantly I felt closer to ninety percent better versus the sixty I had been feeling. My shoulders aches faded to the point only Peter and maybe Heisshitze would notice I was injured. By the time I made it back to the dorms no one would know unless they saw the fight.

"I suppose we should return, any latter and we are both going to be lectured."

"Hmmm, I think you are forgetting something."

"What?" He tossed me a gold magic tool. The cleaning one. I looked at it then back down at myself. Right. Mud. I adjusted the dials to accommodate my height and a deep clean then aimed it below my neck. A huge bubble of water washed over me taking away the mud and sweat that caked onto my clothes and boots. The charms tinkled merrily as the water rushed back to the magic tool leaving me clean, and the area around my feet clear of mud. "Better." But now I was freezing.

"Let's get back, before someone else thinks to follow your trail."

I grabbed my glaive and swung it over my shoulder. For the first few feet we walked in silence.

"What is your plan?" He finally asked.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully. "He needs more protections. And more information. How is transcribing that book coming?"

"Finished."

"Good. I don't care how you get it into his hands, just do it. The better he and his attendants understands how the body works the safer they all will be."

"Tell me about the poison?"

I felt my lip curl up in a snarl and my mood darken. "He's lost some feeling in his dominate hand. The nerves are damaged making fine motor control problematic. He struggled to catch sword, and wield it with the same strength he usually has. Some numbness too. When I struck his knuckles there was almost no reaction."

"Could be a result of a high pain tolerance, like you."

I shook my head no. "I am sure he has a higher pain threshold than most, but that's not what this felt like."

"Alright, what else?"

"He stinks of potions, and there was a faint whiff of acid on his breath. He can't keep much solid food down. Heavily relying on potions to compensate for the lack of nutrition. They are easier and safer considering he is surrounded by potential enemies." What else, what else, I wracked my brain. "Headaches. Paleness."

"Could be from the vomiting or lack of sleep."

"Could be," I conceded. "Or it could be a symptom."

"So, what does it feel like to you?"

I sucked on one of my teeth as I thought. The lack feeling in his hand and the tremors were what were sticking out to me. It stirred an old memory from earth. What was it? A paint can with a warning label on it. "Lead. It looks like lead poisoning, but it strikes me as more potent."

Peter nodded. "There is an equivalent to lead here, and it is more potent. Under certain circumstances just touching it can cause symptoms. It's used in yellow paints on teacups as well as certain magic tools. Though it is usually safely sealed behind a finishing coat that makes the cups smooth or inside magical tools. So, no risk of accidental poisoning."

"Pass what you know onto Justus. Quietly."

He gave me a look that said, 'how dare you doubt me'. "That goes without saying."

"Sorry." My eyes followed the Little Flower's tracks. It was easy to follow with such a large group. Worry twisted in my gut when I noticed he had simply moved to a different part of the forest rather than heading back to the academy.

"He'll be okay love; he is safer here."

I growled in frustration. "He will never be safe as long as that woman lives."

Peter stopped in his tracks. "Have you seen this?"

"No, nothing concrete. Just a feeling."