Seraphine's POV
Everything we’d asked for was on the tray the kitchen sent up: crusty bread, fresh butter, soft cheese, two boiled eggs, a bowl of hot vegetable soup, and a small pile of chopped apple and pear. Darius set it down on the little side table that had only ever seen tonics and tinctures; for the first time, it looked like an actual table.
He sat across from me, then shifted his chair sideways so he could keep an eye on my left shoulder.
“If the healer sees I’ve buttered your bread, she’ll ban me from the wing,” he muttered, spreading the butter with the tip of the knife.
“Tell her it’s therapeutic,” I said. “Butter supports mental health.”
“A new chapter in the history of medicine,” he said solemnly, handing me the slice. “The Seraphine Method.”
“Better than ‘porridge or
