She gathered up her bags and left the stall, looking at Gavin for a moment.  He tensed a moment and reached out to take her bags, but she took a step back from him, frowning.

“I’m sorry, but all my medical books and notes are in these bags.  I’d rather not let them go,” she said apologetically.

“Your books and notes?  Did you not bring any clothes?” Gavin asked, dismay clear in his voice.

Calista laughed.

“Of course I did!  I fit a few work dresses and some nightclothes and undergarments on top of the books.”

“Work dresses?” Gavin repeated, sounding bewildered now.

Calista shook her head at him, wondering what he’d expected.  She stepped past him and out into the cold, winter evening.  Gavin followed her out, then stepped past her to lead the way to the castle door.  He snapped his fingers, and the doors swung inward.

Calista may not have been too impressed by the gate opening on its own, but seeing the mage activate a sound-triggered spell like that was a little impressive.  It would’ve been more impressive if her sisters hadn’t told her it would happen, though.

“I will lead you to the breakfast room, and we can have some supper,” Gavin said quietly.

“My sisters said you have no servants,” Calista remarked, looking at him questioningly.  Gavin tensed, his hooded head turning towards her.

“That is mostly correct,” he said stiffly.  “My father’s steward remains in my employ, and handles the management of the duchy in my stead.  I must sign off on everything he does, though.  There is also a maid who comes once a week to clean the castle, on the condition that she does not ever see me.”

“That’s unusual for nobles, isn’t it?” she asked curiously.

“I expect it is,” he said coldly.  “I have not seen other nobles since my parents died when I was ten, but I do remember there were many servants filling these halls before then.  They all fled when my parents died and I became afflicted.”

“Oh,” Calista said in a small voice.  She looked down at her feet, feeling bad for bringing up a sore subject.  “My mother died when I was ten, too.  She died giving birth to my little brother, who died along with her.”

“I see.  It seems we have something in common,” Gavin replied quietly, his demeanor softening.

“Of all the things to have in common, I’d prefer it not be losing parents at a young age,” Calista said wryly.  Gavin chuckled softly.

“I suppose you have a point, there.  Still, it’s nice to know I’m not alone.”  He led her to the breakfast room, and pulled a seat out for her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, eyes fixing on the table’s centerpiece.  “Sunflowers and lavender!  How lovely!  Papa told me you had an enchanted garden, but I still find it impressive you have such lovely blooms in the midst of winter.  Not to mention the fact that sunflowers and lavender don’t typically bloom at the same time.”

“That is true,” Gavin noted, sounding very pleased by her reaction.  “Lavender is a spring or early summer bloom, while sunflowers come in late summer and autumn.  But in my garden, it is always blooming season for all the plants.  Speaking of plants in my garden, did the plant your father stole serve you well?” he asked.  He chuckled when she shot him a sour look.

“I feel like you know full well it was not,” she said tartly.

“Yes, silverleaf is quite toxic,” he agreed.  “It was useful to my father with his alchemy, but it would serve no use to an herbalist.”

Calista sighed and massaged her temples.

“I promise my father is not normally a fool.  He just doesn’t know anything about plants unless they’re a spice he can import for his shipping business,” she said tiredly.

Gavin couldn’t help but chuckle.  As Calista set her bags down in a corner where they wouldn’t be a tripping hazard, Gavin headed for the kitchen.  To his surprise, Calista followed him.

“Oh, you don’t have to--you can just wait at the table, it’s fine,” he said awkwardly.

“Absolutely not,” the silver-haired beauty said with a firm shake of her head.  “I’m not going to just sit around doing nothing while you cook by yourself!  I know how lonely and frustrating it is to cook alone all the time.”

She was not to be deterred, so the two set about to cook together.  Gavin had never cooked with anyone else before, but Calista was plenty skilled enough to make sure they weren’t bumping into each other or waiting on tools or ingredients.  She helped guide him in the proper uses of seasonings he hadn’t previously considered using, and insisted on using a more diverse selection of vegetables.

They ended up making a hardy, fresh pasta bolognese with ground pork from a wild boar, blended with more vegetables than Gavin had ever used in a single dish before.  Calista also turned some slightly stale bread from the last meal he’d served into a particularly tasty garlic cheese toasties.  She also made a calming herbal tea for them to drink with the meal from the supplies in her medical bag.

The meal was more complex than what Gavin normally managed on his own, and he thoroughly enjoyed having pasta again.  He didn’t know how to make it, so hadn’t been able to have any in the past fifteen years since his parents had died and the servants abandoned the castle.  The two didn’t talk much during the meal.  Gavin was absorbed with his food, and Calista was busy organizing her thoughts.

“Lord Lowell--” she started.

“Gavin,” he interrupted.  “Lord Lowell was my father.  I don’t feel right using his title when I’ve done nothing with it.”

“Alright… Gavin.  You’re hiring me to be your physician?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Calista asked, leaning over the table and steepling her hands, her long silver plaits slipping over her shoulders to pool on the table.

“I have an… affliction.  Clerics were unable to help me,” he said hesitantly.

“Why did you seek the aid of clerics in the first place?”

“They were here when the incident occurred.  It involved a demon, so they explained the demon cursed me when it failed to possess me.”

“But they weren’t able to break the curse?”

“No.”

“So it’s probably not a curse.”

“What makes you say that?” Gavin asked, hooded head tilting in curiosity.

“Because it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford the best and most effective treatments, as a wealthy duke.  This region is prosperous and far from any contested borders.  Even with generously low taxes, your household would be accumulating a lot of money.  The salary you offered for my employment is insanely generous!  So it’s not like you would’ve been unable to afford the aid required to break a curse.”

“I did pay for the best they offered, yes,” Gavin agreed.  “They said the curse was too strong for them to break.  Their efforts did nothing.  They said there may be more powerful clerics in other nations, but none responded to my letters requesting their aid.”

“If you believe it is a curse, what good would a physician do?”

“I have not been examined by a physician since I became afflicted.”

“That’s not an answer to the question,” Calista chastised, leaning back and crossing her arms under her bosom.

“I don’t know if a physician would do me any good, because none have come here.”

“Why is that?” Calista asked, brow pinching in puzzlement.  “Physicians are not known to be especially fanciful or superstitious.”

“A lot of rumors circulated after my parents’ deaths.  Many servants fled the castle immediately, and told others that I was cursed, or had become a monster.  When I was a child, I found it… difficult… to cope with what had happened.  Becoming an orphan and a monster on the same day was… traumatizing, I suppose,” Gavin explained hesitantly, turning his head to the side as he spoke.