Iron & Ice #ONC2024

Chapter X

 The Academy's infirmary is tucked away in the heart of the castle, far from the chaos of the parade ground or the Great Hall, where patients won't be bothered by the sounds of us training.

The school nurse, Miss McNamara, is a local, a Plebeian First Class, the daughter of a doctor. She's middle-aged and homely. Her plain, round face is kind, and she speaks with the strongest Scottish burr I've ever heard.

When Princess Jessamine brings me in, she isn't cowed by the presence of a royal in her infirmary. Instead, she makes Princess Jessamine wait in the antechamber while she checks me over, then tucks me into one of the curtained-off beds, ordering me to rest, before striding off with a purposeful gait and a business-like calm.

When she comes back, Princess Jessamine is with her.

"Lady Daphne needs rest," she tells the princess. "She's run down. She'll need to miss her classes tomorrow."

I go to protest, but she holds up her hand, cutting me off. "No use arguing, dearie. Don't worry; it won't impact your rankings, and besides, your health is more important."

"I'll have one of her classmates bring her dinner," Princess Jessamine says, as if I'm not sitting there. "And any schoolwork that she misses."

"Perfect," Miss McNamara says briskly. "I'll keep her overnight, just in case, but she should be able to rest in her dormitory tomorrow while the others are in class. If I send her back, will you check on her when you're able?"

"Of course," Princess Jessamine says.

I am not given a chance to protest or agree, because before I can, Princess Jessamine is gone, and Miss McNamara tucks the scratchy, wool coverlet close around me, instructing me to rest.

But I can't. I can't close my eyes without all the horrible memories pressing in. I lay there, wide awake, as Miss McNamara bustles around behind the curtain, fighting off sleep.

It's a relief when Cassian and Octavia arrive later that night. Octavia comes bearing a tray laden with food from the dinner that I missed, while Cassian brings me an armload of books. I greet them with more warmth than they're expecting, more at the prospect of having a distraction than anything.

"Twenty minutes," Miss McNamara tells them as they come in, and I pick at the food as they settle onto a pair of hard chairs that Miss McNamara brings in for them.

Cassian mostly ignores me, which is fine, and much the same as usual. He's far more comfortable among books than people. A born scholar. He curls up in his chair with a book he's brought and barely pays attention to me, which is fine. It's normal. I crave normal after the last few days.

"Here," Octavia says, practically dumping the tray of food in my lap. It seems like she's brought one of everything they served for dinner. Stew, bread, potatoes, fish pie, salad, roast squash, a slice of Bakewell tart, even some pastries she must have begged from the kitchen. They only serve the pastries to the teachers for breakfast, while we eat heartier fare.

I take a pastry, because I appreciate the thought that went into it, and I choke down a bite or two.

Octavia watches, eyes narrowed. When I go to put the pastry back on the plate, she arches an eyebrow in unspoken chastisement.

I take another bite. The eyebrow goes down.

After that, as I nibble on the pastry, Octavia starts to tell me about what I missed at dinner-a story Indira told about growing up in India, that Gareth dropped two spots in the rankings, how Amelia Caelius was so busy flirting with one of the Witchhunters that she tripped over a bench and was reprimanded by Agrippina Lycaeus, and so on.