“Good afternoon, Giles.” Magnus greeted his personal physician outside the Orange Blossom chamber.
Under the watch of Daly and two guards, he clasped wrists with the man who had seen to his health since he was a babe in his mother’s arms. Giles’s fingers gripped with less strength than Magnus remembered from their last meeting, but the light in his blue eyes shone as brightly as ever. “Thank you for coming. How is Esmerelda?”
Being separated from Seona put him on edge, but his keen ears told him she hadn’t moved from the bath. At the first sign of her doing so, he would sweep back in. He would not be fooled by her docile act. She would not lull him into allowing her to escape Glendall a second time.
“She is well. She is well.” Giles said with a nod of his head. “Danu bless you for asking. How may I serve you, Your Majesty? Daly said something about lady Seona taking a fall.”
Quietly, lest Seona overhear, he relayed what he and Riggs had witnessed. “It was a miracle, Giles,” he finished. “I would swear it before Danu’s altar. Her wounds were healed before our eyes, but her mind—I’m afraid she is not the same. I will not take the outward appearance of her good health for granted. You must determine if she carries injuries beyond what the eye can see, and if so, tell me how to mend them.”
Giles nodded while he listened, his cloud-gray eyebrows sinking ever lower. It pleased Magnus that his physician seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, but then, of course he would. Giles had seen every sort of injury and ailment and had trained a dozen apprentices in their identification and treatment.
Magnus reentered the room with Giles on his heels. Seona peered over the edge of the bath, her expression open and curious. He would swear there was not an ounce of guile in her, but he had learned better than to trust appearances.
“Lady Seona, you remember Giles, my royal physician,” he said by way of introduction, then he braced for her resistance.
But she did not resist as she had every other time Giles had visited since her rescue. Instead, her mouth tipped in a polite smile. “Greetings, Physician Giles,” she said in a formal but cordial tone. “I suppose you should like me out of the bath.” She rose from the water, exhibiting her form as any proud wolfkind woman would under the circumstances. Rivulets sluiced over her hairless breasts, around the hourglass shape of her waist and hips, into the triangle of dewy curls at the juncture of her thighs, down her slender legs. Regally, she held out her hand for a linen.
Magnus nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to provide one. But instead of handing it off to her, he could not help but step near and drape it around her shoulders.
With a sideways glance and a pinch of color in her cheeks, she accepted his offering, clutching the linen before her. She also accepted his hand to steady her as she stepped from the bath.
Like twin caterpillars, Giles’s eyebrows shot up. He had seen Seona before, having treated all the women rescued from Saroc, but he had never seen her like this—agreeable and in the same room as Magnus. “Lady Seona, it is good to see you again.” He bowed at the waist.
Magnus reminded himself to translate. Seona did not wear the translation stone. He did. Therefore she could only communicate with him. “Giles says it is good to see you again, my lady.”
She blinked at him. “Of course he did. There is nothing wrong with my hearing.”
He stared at her. She had understood Giles. How could that be? Had she somehow learned their tongue while in Saroc and hid it from him all this time?
If Giles was shocked at Seona speaking their language, he did not comment on it. Instead, he began flipping latches on his case with gnarled but steady hands. “Take your time drying yourself while I set up my table.”
Snapping sounds issued from the case as the physician unfolded the legs and lifted the lid to reveal his tidy rows of physician’s tools. All the while, he kept his gaze averted out of respect for Seona’s privacy.
Still unsettled by Seona’s ability to communicate with Giles, Magnus did not show the same respect. Nor did she seem to expect it. Bare feet leaving pools on the hearth, she took her time rubbing the linen over her body. Stretching gracefully and bending lithely, she glided the linen over her skin until it was dry as lily petals.
When she finished, she let the linen fall to the hearth.
Legions of Larnian warriors could not force his gaze from her shamelessly displayed form. She was smaller than the typical wolfkind female, almost juvenile in size. But from the hair covering her nether lips to her full breasts to the knowing look in her eyes as she held his gaze, she was all woman.
Her lips appeared soft as she smiled sweetly at him, and he realized he’d thought they were hard and thin. Really, it had always been her expression that was hard and thin when he’d been near. When she was relaxed, her face radiated gentle, regal beauty.
“Have you a dressing gown for me?” she said, a twinkle in her eye.
“Hm. Should be one around here somewhere,” he said, backing toward the armoire so he did not lose out on a single moment of looking upon her like this. “Daly and the lads would be much swifter at dressing you. I’m afraid you shall have to settle for the bumbling aid of a novice servant.” By Danu, what had gotten into him? He was flirting with her. With Seona. If Anya found out, she’d no doubt attempt to “snatch his cods and have them for supper.”
Even more remarkable was the fact Seona did not appear put off by his flirting. To the contrary, her gaze darkened with interest. Tendrils of dark walnut wove a tapestry of damp hair over her shoulder. She gathered the tendrils and squeezed. Droplets pattered to the stone at her feet. “Something tells me you are not a novice at all things where bedchambers are concerned.” Flinging her hair behind her, she pursed her lips in a coy smile.
He nearly swallowed his tongue and forgot what he’d been doing. Ah. The armoire. Barely glancing within, he chose a lavender dressing gown and robe and brought them to Seona.
Still smiling, she stretched her arms up and over her head, allowing Magnus to sheath her in the silken gown. After the hem fluttered to her toes, she extended one arm for the sleeve of the robe.
He accommodated her, first sliding a sleeve up one arm then holding the other while she shrugged into the garment. Serving her like this made his midsection warm pleasantly. If only her acceptance of him were genuine!
“The settee should do,” Giles said, giving Magnus a start—he’d forgotten they were not alone. The physician had his table open and ready in front of the settee. “Have a seat, if you would, dear lady. When you are quite ready.”
Seona obliged, stepping lightly to where Giles waited.
Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off her. Had she always been so graceful in her movements? Despite her occupying the room adjoining his, he had rarely enjoyed access to her. Between Anya’s protectiveness and Seona’s refusal to admit anyone save her sister, he had only laid eyes on her a handful of times, never when she was up and about. She had lived beside him for two moons but she was a stranger. A lovely, intriguing stranger.
Now that she seemed amenable to his presence, he intended to spend more time with her. Much more. He would use her newfound tolerance of him to his advantage so he could discover whatever new plot she had devised. Perhaps he could even soften her, make her see what a good mate he would be. Then she would forget her attempts to escape. She would see that no future she could create for herself would ever be as fulfilling as one at his side as his queen and the mother of his heir.
But her health came first.
After taking her seat, Seona grasped both of Giles’s hands. “Thank you for coming to ensure my wellbeing. I shall assist you in any way you wish.”
Over his half-moon spectacles, Giles blinked at her.
Magnus held in a chuckle.
When Giles began his examination, Magnus moved a small distance away. He did not want to distract either physician or patient. Aside from a few brisk touches, which Seona accepted with grace, Giles kept his investigation to questions.
“What is the last thing you remember before waking upon the king’s mount?” the physician asked, peering over his spectacles.
Seona’s gaze darted to Magnus. Several long moments passed before she answered, “Nothing relevant to this time and place. All of my memories are from...far away.”
Interesting. It seemed Seona intended to avoid questioning about her involvement with Bilkes. Clever lady, pretending not to remember the events leading up to her fall. A smile tugged at his lips. The resemblance between Seona and Anya had never been more apparent. It seemed both sisters were skilled at manipulation.
“No memories of Glendall?” Giles pressed. “Your time in this chamber? Our previous meetings?”
“No.”
Magnus stifled a sniff of humor. How far would she take this charade?
Apparently, he had not stifled his reaction in full. Giles regarded him over his spectacles, and he did not appear amused. Returning his attention to Seona, he said, “Do you remember Saroc, lady? Your time in the dungeon there?”
The question was a blow to his gut and wiped away all trace of amusement. He remembered Saroc. He remembered the soul-twisting agony that had driven him to his knees when he’d found a dozen human women living in deplorable conditions, when he’d learned the horrors they’d suffered. With great effort, he shoved the memory of that day aside and focused on Seona in the here and now.
She cocked her head, reminding him of a curious bird. “No. I have no recollection of that.” Her gaze seemed to turn inward. “It must have been horrible.”
Magnus had the distinct impression she was imagining the horrors the other women had suffered, as if she had heard of Bantus’s atrocities rather than experienced them as one of his victims.
Her manner was so utterly without guile and so unexpected, considering the shell of a woman she’d been upon her rescue, that Magnus questioned his initial supposition. What if she wasn’t pretending? What if she truly could not remember?
“What about before Saroc? Do you remember your home in the human realm? Your family?”
“I am afraid not. I wish I could be more helpful.”
Since Magnus had known Seona, he had never heard of her attempting to be helpful to anyone, even Anya, who often left her sister’s chamber in a foul temper, grumbling about ‘the ungrateful, infuriating wench.’”
“Do not trouble yourself, lady,” Giles said with a pat of her hands. “Simply continue to answer to the best of your ability, and you will help me plenty. Now, tell me about your sister. Do you remember Anya?”
“Anya,” she said. “My sister.” Her face lit with wonder.
Magnus held his breath for her answer. Surely if she was pretending, she would draw the line here. Knowing Anya lived in Glendall, that she would be interacting with her, she would not attempt to convince them she did not know her sister.
“I know of her,” she said, her tone measured and careful. “I know of the good she has done, her slaying of the vile Bantus. But I do not remember her. I...do not know her as my sister.”
Seona puzzled him. She had deliberately chosen each word of her response. He would swear to it before the high priest. She was either being incredibly honest or incredibly daft in denying any memory of Anya. The dark-haired Highland sisters who had come to Glendall were many things, but daft was not one of them.
He was convinced. Seona was telling the truth as far as she knew it. No one could pretend so convincingly for so long and deny a relationship with the one person they’d previously trusted.
Come to think of it, Seona’s speech supported her answers. Anya spoke with a pleasing, rolling burr and a vocabulary that often made those around her blush. Shouldn’t Seona sound like Anya? Have the same rolling burr? Use the same bawdy vocabulary?
He studied Giles, trying to guess at what the physician made of the interview.
But Giles’s face gave nothing away. “I see.” The physician asked several more questions about people and events Seona should easily recall—her childhood, her mother and father, the home she’d lived in, chores and duties she had carried out.
Each answer proved Seona lacked specific memories. She possessed only the most general knowledge of who she was and where she had come from. Her responses seemed like facts she had learned about some other individual rather than memories of personal experiences.
Giles thanked her for her time and cooperation. After packing up his case, he walked with Magnus to the door, where two guards met them.
Magnus posted one guard inside to watch Seona. With one hand, he took Giles’s elbow, and with the other, he carried the case as he led the elderly physician down the corridor, out of earshot of the remaining guard. The physician moved slowly. Magnus had to force himself not to rush the man, so eager was he to question him.
At last they stopped under a sconce and bent their heads together. “Tell me what you make of her condition.” The words tumbled free, urgent and more than a little anxious. With a drop of his stomach, he was a young man of twenty-five again. His mother was ill and in bed, and he was demanding Giles tell him what was the matter with her.
Please, Danu, do not let Seona’s condition be fatal. I cannot lose her like I lost my mother.
“As far as I can tell, it is a defect of the memory, Your Majesty.” Giles removed his spectacles and held them by a temple piece. The familiar mannerism only enhanced Magnus’s anxiety. He’d done the same thing when telling Magnus that his mother’s seizures would only continue to grow worse and that they would claim her life within the year.
But that was then and this was now. It was not his mother being examined, but the woman Danu had promised to him.
He scrutinized Giles. “Defect of the memory, you say. She might be pretending.” He doubted it, but he had to suggest the theory if for no other reason than to have his trusted physician rule it out. “She did escape Glendall with a convicted felon. This memory defect might be a ruse to avoid questioning.”
Giles frowned. “No. I do not think that is the case, Your Majesty. Her speech. It is different than before.”
“She spoke to you before?” He’d thought she had refused to speak with anyone save Anya.
“No. Not with me. But within my hearing, yes. I overheard her shouting to Lady Anya that she ‘wouldna be poked and prodded by a numb-pricked auld fool.’” At this, he cracked a rare smile before sobering again. “No. I believe her memory loss is genuine and that it is so severe it has affected every aspect of her personality.”
So he had been correct in guessing her speech would have been like Anya’s.
Giles went on. “Lady Seona has lost all sense of her own identity, including all personal memories prior to her fall. However, she appears to have retained her worldly memories, those functions of the mind that provide an understanding of how things work and how she should interact with the world. A very serious condition, indeed.”
That was the second time Giles had used the word serious. “Will it worsen? Will her memory ever return? Tell me all.”
“I can only guess, unfortunately.” Giles replaced his spectacles. “The good news is that there is no sign of trauma to the head. Her physical healing appears complete. Remarkable, considering what you told me of her fall.” He inclined his head, acknowledging the miracle.
Magnus took heart. Seona was not injured. She suffered no physical consequences of the fall. Thank You, Danu!
“It is unlikely her memory loss will worsen,” Giles went on to say. “In fact, it is a good sign that she was able to tell me all that has transpired since her fall. This means she can create new memories. As to whether she will regain those memories she lost—” Sucking in a breath between his teeth, he rocked back on his heels. “That is uncertain. I have never encountered such a condition in a woman, let alone a human woman.”
Magnus recalled the detailed medical reports Giles and his two most experienced apprentices had written about the twelve rescued women from Saroc. Malnourishment and trauma of the mind had featured prominently in each report, but there had been no mention of memory loss.
“Of the men I’ve seen with memory loss, some regained their memories once their injuries had healed. Others were not so lucky.” He peered over his spectacles, his expression grave. “I am afraid there is no telling when—or whether—she might regain her lost sense of self.”
Magnus let the physician’s assessment sink in. Seona might never again be...Seona. This should pain him, for it was like a death in a way. Without her memories, she was not whole. She was only a shadow of herself.
But this new Seona did not feel like a shadow. The woman in the chamber down the corridor radiated vibrancy and life. She marveled at the simplest things, like tinkling bathwater. She found joy in the presence of children. Her reactions to things he took for granted made him see the world through the eyes of innocence. And, heavens, her kiss was nourishment for his moonsoul. Her embrace lightened the burden of ruling a dying people, made him forget how little sleep he’d had of late. She made him feel whole and alive as no other creature on Danu’s green Earth ever had, most especially not the Seona she had been.
Perhaps it was perverse of him, but in Giles’s diagnosis, he found relief. Not only was Seona physically healthy, but she had no recollection of the horrors she had suffered in Larna. Furthermore, she no longer loathed him. For the first time since learning of her existence, he had a chance to spend time with her. To woo her. Perhaps to entice her to feel for him the depth of love he’d felt for her since laying eyes on her in the canyon.
Best of all, he no longer needed to worry she was playing him for a fool. Giles’s diagnosis confirmed it. She was not pretending to be something she was not in order to lure him into trusting her. She was not planning to run from him again. Her guilelessness was no act. It was simply her, the way she would have been, perhaps, without the suffering she’d endured in Larna. Perhaps even without the hard, uncertain life Anya had described from the human realm.
Seona’s memory loss might actually be a blessing in disguise. Perhaps this was Danu’s way of protecting her from all she’d suffered in the past. And her way of making a path forward for his courtship of her.
With new hope in his heart, he thanked Giles and strode back to Seona’s chamber. “Summon Daly for me,” he told the guard at the door. “The lady and I will be attending Temple this afternoon.” He intended to thank Danu properly for this miracle within a miracle. And spend quality time with a Seona who not only tolerated his presence but seemed to find some pleasure in it.
But first, he was going to kiss the woman senseless, this time without pulling back out of suspicion. This time, he would show her what he felt for her, and nothing was going to stop him.