The next morning, I found Healer Wilfrin in the apothecary, which was located on the first floor off the receiving lobby. The place reeked of ambrosia, which should smell pleasant to a Fae nose. As with anything, too much highlighted the unpleasant sickly-sweet odor to the point it evoked the start of rot.
"How much of that stuff do you have down here?" I asked and waved a hand in front of my nose.
"Enough. Queen Lilith sends us a shipment every month."
"Why?"
"So she can keep it out of the hands and veins of her courtiers, I suspect."
I clenched my fists like that would help me hold on to the sanity and souls of my light Fae subjects. "No more. Whatever else she sends gets disposed of."
"How?" He motioned to the barrels along the wall. "No one knows what to do with the stuff. It doe
