Evening fell.
Roshan started preparing dinner with roasted meat like always, using the tenderizing herb like always.
The smell hit Faelyn and her face went white, then green. Her hand flew to her mouth.
She bolted for the door.
Outside, she bent double and dry-heaved. Her stomach clenched and twisted but nothing came up except bile that burned her throat.
When she stumbled back inside, both chiefs were frozen in place, staring.
"What herb did you use?" Her voice rasped like she'd been screaming.
"The same one I always use. The tenderizing—"
"Don't." She held up a shaking hand, face still the color of ash. "I can't even think about it without—"
Her throat worked. She swallowed once, twice, fighting down whatever wanted to come up.
Roshan and Nyx looked at each other over her head. Roshan's jaw was tight. Nyx's eyes had gone wide.
"I'll make something else," Roshan said, voice careful like he was talking to someone who might shatter.
"No herb."
"Please."
