Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (best ebook for manga txt) 📕
Read free book «Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (best ebook for manga txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Jonathan Michael
Read book online «Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (best ebook for manga txt) 📕». Author - Jonathan Michael
“How can I assist you?” a hoarse voice startles me from behind as I stare at the swinging door, pondering my loathing for them.
“Huh?” I look back to see Madam Platina, the Academy Healer. Her silvery-grey hair is up in a bun on top of her head with horn-rimmed spectacles magnifying her brilliant blue-grey eyes. Today, they appear greyer as if storm clouds are brewing from within.
“Again? I have other patients I can be tending to that appear to be in much more duress than you. And why are you on the floor?”
I push myself up in a seated position and massage my leg where Grimry stomped on it. The pain has receded, and I can sense the bone has mended itself. I rise to my feet and poke around at my face. The swelling has gone down.
“Come here. Come here. I can’t see what you’re pointing at.” She squeezes around the lobby desk to get a closer look and aggressively grabs my head, carelessly prodding and tousling it as if it’s a tomato she’s handling in the market to look for defects. I think she may have forgotten it’s still attached to my body. “There’s a bit of blood, but looks fine to me.”
“Uh…yeah…”
“If there’s nothing wrong with you, then why’d you ring the bell? Be on your way, now.”
I don’t respond quick enough for her, and my face must be contorted or something because Madam Platina looks at me with concern and places the back of her hand against my forehead.
“You’re a Healer, lad. And a good one at that. My time is wasted on you. You’re fine. Now be gone.”
“Y-yes, Madam,” I speak up. “Thank you.” I rush out the door to escape the awkwardness.
With a bit of time until my next course, I make way for Astor’s quarters.
Master Sephyre, the man who makes imperfections look flawless and who neglects to keep his appreciation for girls half his age hidden, was generous enough to share his guest suite with Astor. A narcissist with a shallow, generous shell. Thankfully, the suite is an outbuilding detached from his main abode. Ulterior motives would be undeniable if he offered up a suite within his home. Just across the hall… Only a wooden door separating them at night… But this place is separated by a beautiful rose garden. Generous and inviting. All the more suspicious and telling of his character. Why would she accept his offer?
The guest suite is quite luxurious for an outbuilding. I can’t imagine what his actual home is like. This kind of comfort belongs to the ancestral line of The First Four. Sephyre is not a well-known family name, so he must have acquired his wealth recently. Maybe the Taoiseach treats the Academy instructors well.
I rap on the door and crack it open after briefly waiting. I poke my head in and call for her. “Astor?” I don’t know why I expected her to be twiddling about her suite. She is a girl who stays busy. If she’s not experimenting with some new form of healing, she’s out researching new ways to help people. Her heart is irritatingly virtuous. Her desire to help others is never-ending and exhausting. So why do I distrust her?
I rinse the dried blood from my face and arms at the faucet. I’d rather not have the embarrassing questions at my next, and most dreaded, course of the day, Aeronautics. Not only is the entire concept of that class foreign to me, but it’s instructed by the scarred golden boy himself, Master Sephyre. I dread it even more so than having to get face-to-face with the Taoiseach in Social Etiquette. And as much as I would like to be tardy, it’s not tolerated by any of the instructors in the Academy. The Taoiseach sees it as a direct connection to where your priorities lie. And if your priorities don’t lie with your teachings and the Academy first, then you don’t belong.
As I wait for Astor to return, I handle a flask of unfamiliar substance lying about her table. It contains a fine white powder. Flour perhaps. I pick up another with herbs inside it. I pop the cork and a foul aroma attacks me. As if a threatened skunk zipped through the room. I replace the cork and slide the flask away as though it will help remove the odor. And there’s a third filled with a milky liquid substance. Too thick for cow or goat milk. I pop the cork and hesitantly sniff. The smell is intoxicating. This is what Astor has been working with that I continuously smell when she’s around. Honeyed lavender. All my concerns flush away as I inhale the sweet aroma.
A mild clearing of a throat sounds at the doorway. Who else, but the lady I’ve been waiting for.
“Excuse me.”
She stands in the doorway with pursed lips and arms crossed. Beautiful all the same. It’s hard to feel anything but joy when those silver eyes, bordered by soft features and platinum hair, stare at you. If she has any flaws, my eyes don’t pick up on them. Even that gentle frown is beautiful. And her aroma…
“Uh…sorry.” I place the flask back on the table, leaving it uncorked. “I was waiting for you to get back.” But I can’t remember why I was waiting. I wanted to discuss something with her, but I don’t recall what.
“It doesn’t look like you’re just waiting.” She strides over to the table and retrieves the flask with the white powder. “You didn’t consume any of these, did you?”
“No. None of it.”
“Good. Because my experiments are not conclusive yet, and it might have some nasty side effects if you did.”
Comments (0)