Each "chapter" is a different short story, some are fluff and some smut. I write for Marvel, Middle Earth, Game of Thrones.
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Sybil stood in her medicinal closet, gathering herbs and fruits from the shelves to concoct her remedies and potions. She labored over the mortar and pestle, grinding the items until they were a fine powder that could be steeped in water and mead. "Good Lady, the King has requested you." She frowned at the mention of him. He had not been the same since they returned from France.
"What is the occasion?" She turned to the courtier, wiping her hands on the skirts of the fading kirtle before turning back to replenish her satchel with the items that were nearly gone.
"Pain in his shoulder from the battle." Came the reply and at that statement she nearly dropped the bowl in her hands, there was no denying that the healer was irritated with the request of her King. There were people in the village and town that would perish for lack of medicine and yet he would demand her all to himself.
Sybil's lips were pressed into a tight line, in the recent years she had been known not only as a well-practiced physician but for her temper, some suspected it to be due to witchcraft but as it seemed that at one point she was who their Prince would marry they spoke nothing of it. "Is that all that ails him?" Her tone clipped.
"I believe so, my lady." The man stepped further into her preparation room and looked about the room. There were many jars of pastes and vials of liquid each with their own specific label that only she could decipher. From a cupboard Sybil pulled out a long cloth and plucked a jar of green tinged contents from the shelf.
When she held the items out to the man he took them, expecting her to follow him and go to the King as had been commanded. "Then instruct him to use a hot cloth to alleviate the tenderness and apply this." She turned back and packed more items into her pack.
"But my lady, he has requested you." She almost ignored his words as she tied off her cloak beneath her chin, however, there was a part of her that could not leave without saying something more.
"I have my own duties to attend to, now leave." Even with the suspicions that surrounded her, the people still knew her to be the same woman who had treated the late Henry IV, she was still the woman who had instructed that John Bradmore be summoned to aid in the removal of an arrowhead from the Prince's face. They gladly accepted her treatments and repaid her in fruits and honeys, items that could be used to make more remedies.
At dusk she entered the castle walls and quickly made her way back to her work room. The room was dark and no fire had been set in the grate, nor kept up in her absence and for that she did not see the figure in the corner of the room until he stepped into the light that came from the moon through an opening in the wall. "If anyone else refuted me then surely they would have already met their end." Her back when rigid and still with two vials in her hand she turned.
"My King," even with their past she could not bring herself to look up into his eyes, she kept her head low and breathed in, wishing to be far away from her longtime friend.
