Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

They were poisonous, technically. If you ate the berry alone, you’d spend the next six hours gripping your stomach and praying for death. But if you ate the bitter, fuzzy leaf along with the berry, the compounds neutralized each other.

It was a disgusting culinary experience, a sweet syrup mixed with bitter wax, but it temporarily alleviated the hunger pains for the children who hadn’t eaten a proper portion of food for days.

Seraphina didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a handful of berries and a fistful of leaves.

”My Lady!”

Two knights were now sprinting toward her. One was Sir Gallahan, his face pale with panic. The other was a stern-faced guard named Sir Bors.

”Don’t touch those!” Gallahan screamed, diving forward like he was taking a bullet for the Emperor.

Too late.

Seraphina shoved the mixture into her mouth and chewed aggressively.

Purple juice stained her lips instantly. The burst of sugar hit her tongue, followed immediately by the acrid, chalky taste of the leaves. It was gross. It was heaven.

”No! Spit it out! Spit it out!”

Sir Bors reached her first. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his armored gloves cold against her thin dress. He looked terrified.

”She ate the Purple Death!” Bors yelled back at the camp. ”Medic! We need a medic! The child ate the wild berries!”

Chaos erupted. The peaceful camp turned into a frenzy. Knights dropped their cooking utensils. The medic, a bald man with a bag of potions, came running, tripping over a tent peg.

Seraphina swallowed the bolus of food and looked up at Sir Bors, puzzled.

”Why are you yelling?” she asked, reaching for another handful.

”Stop!” Gallahan grabbed her small wrist, gently but firmly. ”Lady Seraphina, those are poison! You will get sick! You might... oh gods, you might die!”

Seraphina pulled her hand back. She looked at the panicked knights. They were genuinely terrified. For a moment, the cynicism of her adult soul wavered. They cared? About a bait child?

”Not poison,” Seraphina said, shaking her head. She picked a leaf and held it up. ”The berry is the ouch-maker; eat the leaves too. You eat them together like a sandwich. Crunch crunch.”

The knights froze.

”What?” Sir Gallahan asked, blinking.

”The leaf,” Seraphina explained slowly, as if talking to simpletons. ”It tastes like old socks. But if you eat it with the berry, the tummy doesn’t hurt. We ate them all the time at the big house when the soup was gone.”

A silence descended on the small group by the bushes.

Sir Gallahan looked at the purple stain on her mouth. He looked at the half-chewed leaf in her hand. He looked into her eyes, eyes that were too old, too knowledgeable about the desperate measures of starvation.

It broke his heart.

A child of noble blood, or at least a child adopted by a Duke, should not know the herbal alchemy required to safely eat poisonous weeds to survive.

”You... you ate these before?” Gallahan whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

”Lots of times,” Seraphina nodded. ”Tommy ate just the berries once. He threw up blue stuff. But I taught him the leaf trick. Then we were full.”

She reached for another berry. ”Can I have more? The soup is taking forever.”

”No,” Gallahan said firmly, but his voice was gentle. He scooped her up in his arms, lifting her away from the bush. ”No more weeds, my Lady. No more.”

”But I’m hungry!” Seraphina protested, wriggling in his arms. She wiped her purple-stained hands on his pristine white cloak.

”We will feed you,” Gallahan promised. He turned to the other knights. ”Is the soup ready?”

”It’s boiling, sir! Just needs to cool!” the cook shouted from the fire.

”Cool it now! Use ice magic if you have to!” Gallahan ordered, striding back toward the camp center.

He carried her past the carriage. The door was still open.

Duke Kaelus was watching.

He had heard the commotion. He had heard the scream of ”Poison!” He had even rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to cut down an assassin.

But then he had heard the explanation.

The berry is the ouch-maker. The leaf is the stopper.

Kaelus watched as Gallahan carried the purple-stained child to a log near the fire. He saw the way the knights looked at her now, not just with duty, but with a sudden, fierce protectiveness. Her tragedy had disarmed them.

Kaelus looked down at his own hands. He had never gone hungry. He had grown up in the frozen north, where food was scarce, but he was a noble. He had never looked at a poisonous bush and calculated the risk-to-reward ratio for a single meal.

”Resourceful,” he muttered to the empty carriage.

It was the highest compliment he could give.

Outside, the scene had turned domestic. Sir Gallahan sat Seraphina on a log. He took a wooden bowl of steaming stew, a rich broth with venison, potatoes, and carrots.

”Blow on it, my Lady,” Gallahan instructed, holding the spoon to her lips. ”It is hot.”

Seraphina opened her mouth like a baby bird. She didn’t blow. She just waited.

Gallahan sighed, blew on the spoon himself, and fed her.

The taste was explosive. Real meat. Salty broth. It washed away the bitter taste of the leaf. Seraphina hummed in delight, her earlier tantrum forgotten instantly. She swung her legs, munching happily, demanding the next spoon before she had even swallowed the first.

”Delicious?” Gallahan asked, smiling.

”Yummy,” Seraphina garbled. ”More meat. Less carrot.”

The knights chuckled. The tension in the camp evaporated, replaced by the warm atmosphere of men fawning over a child who had unknowingly twisted their heartstrings.

Inside the carriage, the Duke turned his attention back to his work.

The ”childish” incident was over. The ”bait” was fed and secure. Now, he had to focus on the real threat.

He unrolled a second scroll. It was a topographical map of the region they would enter tomorrow.

Count Rodhe’s Territory.

The map was marked with red ink.