Page 33 of A Healer for the Wicked Highlander

Laila knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Ye’ve a good heart,” she said softly. “Ye care deeply for everyone around ye. It’s nay wonder ye’re feelin’ it now. But ye’ll be all right, aye? Ye’ve the strength for it.”

Freya’s throat tightened at the kindness in Laila’s voice. She didn’t deserve such words, not when her thoughts were so selfishly tangled. But she nodded, offering another faint smile. “Aye, I’ll be fine. Thank ye, Laila.”

Laila studied her for a moment longer, her gaze perceptive, as if she could sense the unspoken truth. But she didn’t press. Instead, she gave Freya’s arm a gentle squeeze and stood.

Freya let out a small sigh of relief as Laila didn’t press further. But then the maid hesitated by the door, her brow furrowed thoughtfully.

“Ye ken,” Laila said, turning back to her, “I was meanin’ to ask—there’s a bottle in the kitchen ye left the other day. A green one with a sprig of rosemary floatin’ in it. What’s it for? One of the cooks was wonderin’ if it’s for healin’, or somethin’ else.”

Freya blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected question, but then a soft laugh escaped her. It was a welcome distraction, and she clung to it gratefully. “Ah, that’s nae for the kitchen—thank goodness they dinnae try puttin’ it in the stew. It would’ve been far too sweet.”

Laila grinned, her curiosity piqued. “What’s it for, then?”

Freya settled back against the bedframe, her hands steadying as she gestured to explain. “That’s a simple tonic I make for ease of breathin’. It’s mostly for Cody, to help strengthen his lungs after all that’s happened.” Her voice grew steadier.

“It’s made with thyme, rosemary, and a touch of honey to make it palatable. The herbs help soothe the airways and clear out any lingerin’ congestion. The rosemary also has a bit of stimulant in it—good for circulation, keeps the blood movin’ proper.”

Laila tilted her head, fascinated. “And it actually works?”

Freya nodded, a small spark of pride lighting her features. “Aye, it does. It’s nae a miracle cure, mind ye, but it can ease the symptoms. I’ve used it on others in the village back home when the damp air brought on coughs and wheezes.”

“What about for nerves?” Laila asked, her voice tentative. “Do ye make somethin’ for that?”

Freya’s expression softened as she met Laila’s gaze. “I do, aye. There’s a mixture I brew with chamomile, lavender, and a touch of valerian root. It’s best as a tea, though it can be made into a tincture for quicker effect. It calms the body and mind, good for restless nights or times of great worry.”

The maid nodded, her face thoughtful. “That sounds lovely. I ken a few folk who could use it, truth be told.”

Freya smiled faintly. “If ye like, I can make some for ye to take back to them.”

“That’d be kind of ye,” Laila said, her tone warm with gratitude.

For a moment, the weight on Freya’s chest lifted. Talking about her work reminded her of her purpose, the thing she knew she could do well. It gave her a sense of control when everything else felt so uncertain.

As Laila turned to leave, Freya’s voice softened. “Thank ye, Laila. For… askin’ about the tonic. And for checkin’ on me.”

The maid smiled over her shoulder. “Ye’re welcome, Freya. It’s what I’m here for.”

When the door closed behind her, Freya let out a slow breath, the remnants of her earlier turmoil still lingering but dulled. She vowed to stop thinking about Michael and how close she’d been to something she desired, yet could not have.

She made her way to Cody’s chamber. She knocked softly on the door before pushing it open, peeking inside. Cody was seated on the floor, a small assortment of wooden toys scattered around him. He was engrossed in moving a carved horse across the floor, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Good mornin’, Cody,” Freya said gently as she stepped inside, her voice warm and light.

The boy looked up, startled at first, but his expression quickly softened when he saw her. “Mistress Freya!” he exclaimed, clutching the toy horse in his hands. “Are ye here to play?”

Freya smiled and knelt beside him, her skirts pooling around her. “Nae this time, lad. I just came to see how ye’re doin’. Are ye feelin’ all right?”

Cody tilted his head, his small face scrunching in confusion. “Aye, I feel fine. Why wouldnae I?”

Her heart clenched at his innocence. He didn’t truly understand what had happened, how close he’d come to danger. And perhaps that was for the best. It wasn’t her place to burden him with the truth—that was for Michael to decide, when the time was right.

“Ye’ve had a busy couple of days,” Freya said carefully, smoothing a hand over the boy’s dark hair. “I just wanted to make sure ye were well. Sometimes a body feels tired or achy after such excitement.”

Cody shook his head vigorously. “I’m nae tired! And me body’s fine now. Da said I could play if I dinnae run about too much.”

Freya chuckled softly, but the mere mention of the laird made her heart skip a beat. “Good to hear. Ye’ve been very brave, Cody.”

The boy beamed at her, his smile wide and untroubled. “Did ye see how fast Da caught that arrow? He’s like a knight in a story!”