Chapter Thirteen
Llandry lifted her cordial to her lips. A tremor racked her and the bottle slipped, spilling the oily herbal concoction over her chin. She set the vessel down quickly, wiping at her face with a handkerchief. She was up to twice the usual dose, but still the attacks came. Most of her night had been spent wide awake, staring into the darkness feeling panic on the edge of her awareness, waiting for the medicine to wear off.
She didn’t even know what she was afraid of. Normally the attacks came when she found herself surrounded, buried in a crowd of people. Sometimes, on her worst days, she couldn’t address so much as a syllable to a stranger without succumbing to a bout of trembling and hyperventilation. It had been a lamentably common occurrence since her early teenage yea
