The air in the southern corridor was thick and heavy with a scent that made the nose itch. It smelled of bitter roots, dried leaves, and sharp, stinging mint. Ashlyn wrinkled her nose, pulling a scented handkerchief from her pocket and pressing it to her face.
She was walking with her maid, Myra. They were taking a shortcut through the estate, avoiding the main halls where Marissa's influence was strongest.
"Ugh," Ashlyn groaned, waving her hand in front of her face. "What is that smell? It's awful. Like an old apothecary's shop, selling herbs and drugs."
She stopped walking, her curiosity piqued.
"Why such a strong medicine smell?" she demanded.
Myra curtsied nervously. "It's medicine packets, My Lady. Bought by Her Grace, the Grand Duchess. They are moving them to the South Wing storage."
Ashlyn paused her steps. Her mind began to turn. Medicine? Why would Marissa need medicine? The estate was healthy. There was no fever spreading among the servants.
