Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 487. Residue II
Cold.
Distant.
Careful.
Suspicious of everyone.
Had that been the tonic?
Or had it always been there?
He wasn't sure.
And that uncertainty made his chest ache.
Rose watched him silently, giving him space to think.
Jane's gaze softened.
Roric finally lifted his head again.
He wanted to say yes.
Yes, I am different.
Yes, I am broken.
Yes, I have been changed.
But the words refused to come.
Instead he said something else. "The cure." His voice came out quieter than before. "Do you know how to… speed it up?"
Rose tilted her head slightly.
"There may be ways," she said carefully.
Hope flickered in his chest again.
"But I cannot promise anything without studying the tonic itself."
Roric frowned.
"You mean the bottle?"
"Yes."
Her tone became more analytical now.
"I need to examine its composition. Not just the herbs. The magical signature."
"Magical signature?"
Rose nodded.
"If the maker infused the tonic with her own magic while preparing it, the solution becomes more complex. It would not simply be poison. It would be a hybrid."
Roric's jaw tightened.
"So it could be both medicine and spell."
"Exactly."
She folded her arms lightly.
"Without the tonic sample, I would only be guessing."
He leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Then I will bring it to you."
Jane spoke for the first time since the examination.
"That might be difficult."
Her voice was soft, but steady.
Roric turned toward her.
She met his gaze without hesitation now.
"The maker usually sends the tonic personally," she said. "Or through servants she trusts."
He nodded slowly. That statement was an announcement that Jane… had never lost her memory. "I know."
Jane hesitated before continuing. "She also watches when you drink it."
The memory hit him instantly.
Her standing near his chair.
The way her eyes always lingered until the bottle was empty.
At the time he had assumed it was concern.
Now it felt like inspection.
Angel spoke from the window.
"Then do not steal the bottle," he said casually.
Roric looked toward him.
"Steal something else."
"What?"
"The residue," Angel said.
Rose glanced at him with interest.
"Your cup or bottle," Angel continued. "The one you drink from. If the tonic leaves traces, that will be enough."
Roric considered it.
That was easier.
Servants cleaned the cups after use, but not immediately. If he acted quickly…
"Yes," he said slowly. "That could work."
Jane's shoulders relaxed slightly.
The tension in the room eased just a fraction.
But the weight of what they were doing remained.
Roric stood from the chair.
For a moment, he simply looked at them.
They were strangers.
And yet somehow they were the only people he trusted right now.
The thought felt surreal.
"I will get the sample," he said.
Rose nodded.
"And I will analyze it."
He hesitated.
"What happens if you confirm it?"
Rose's eyes darkened slightly.
"Then we know the method."
"And the cure?"
"We will attempt to create one."
Attempt.
Another word that held both hope and danger.
Roric exhaled slowly.
Outside the pastry shop window, the city continued its normal rhythm. Merchants shouting prices. Children laughing. Horses clopping along uneven stone streets.
Pontus looked peaceful.
Stable.
Unaware that one of its princes had just discovered his mind might not belong entirely to himself.
Roric turned toward the window.
For the first time in years, the headache did not return when he thought too hard.
The fog did not close around his thoughts.
Instead he felt something else growing quietly inside him.
Resolve.
Seraphine had guided him for years.
Manipulated him.
Twisted his instincts until he doubted even the people he once loved.
That ended now.
He looked back toward Rose.
"I will bring the tonic."
Then he glanced at Jane.
Their eyes met.
For a second neither spoke.
Too many memories stood between them.
Too many mistakes.
But something fragile existed there now.
Possibility.
Finally, he looked toward Angel.
The King of Euphorion watched him with that same calm, unreadable expression.
Not approval.
Not judgment.
Just quiet acknowledgment.
Roric understood the message without words.
You started this. Now finish it.
He nodded once and left. This time with hope.
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