Chapter Sixty-Nine: Time is of the Essence
Tiptoeing up to the second floor, Uncle Doug decided to stop following me, probably because he thought I wouldn’t need a bodyguard in a house full of relatives. At the end of the hallway, I saw a door slightly ajar—my old room! Just then, Barry pushed the door open and came out. He waved at me, “Little Shay, over here!”
I hustled over and followed him inside. As soon as I stepped in, the familiar scent of mixed herbs hit me like a warm hug from Grandma’s potions.
The room looked much the same as I remembered, except now it had that wonderfully charming messy vibe that only comes with neglect. Two charcoal braziers burned dutifully in the middle, while the corners were filled with a delightful assortment of junk—trinkets from who-knows-where that nobody would ever use.
And on that enormous bed, which used to be mine, was Grandma Claire, hunched and gray-haired, struggling to sit up like a turtle trying to escape its shell the moment I walked in.
“Grandma…” I rushed over and propped her up, fluffing her blankets like a little pillow monster.
Panting, she squinted up at me with heavy eyelids, her face a canvas of fatigue and wrinkles that seemed to multiply by the second. Maybe she was just skeletal thin? Her cheeks were sagging like old potatoes, and her hands rested on the blanket, frail and bony, like they had gone through a tough workout before I arrived. Despite all this, her eyes flickered with a life that made me smile.
“Oh, let me see! Who’s this lovely young lady that’s finally come to visit Grandma?” she said, her wrinkled face breaking into a grin, voice wobbling like a jelly with a lump in it.
She clutched my hand tightly, leaning in closer, trying to carve my face into her memory.
“Grandma, it’s me, Little Shay!” I replied, wiping the corner of her eye. “I’m back! How have you been? What medicine are you taking?”
I think I might’ve underplayed that last part…
Grandma Claire squinted hard, focusing as if I were holding a ticklish butterfly. “What a pretty girl! Finally decided to come back and see dear old me! Your face is still cute as a button! Skin soft like it just jumped out of the water… Have you grown taller? You look a bit skinny. I bet with all that sun and wind, you haven’t been eating well, have you?”
She affectionately butted her forehead against mine while rubbing my face, her breath riffling my hair with a faint whiff that was less than floral.
There was also a certain delightful odor wafting from her, a mix of dirt and stale sweat probably reminiscent of the many, many days she’d spent being fabulous in the house. It unexpectedly reminded me of Grandma Bersa, especially how she would chat with me while sitting proudly on a War Chariot. The similarities between them made me smile.
“Grandma, I’m doing just fine! I’ve got more meat on me than you do!” I said, my mood lifting with my grin, still clutching her frail hands. “You look so thin! You’re not lacking for anything here, so you need to take care of yourself!”
Grandma Claire’s eyes brightened as she nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes! You need to eat more, grow tall!”
“Speak louder! Grandma can’t hear!” Barry chimed in from behind me.
“Grandma!”
So, I raised my voice and practically yelled in her ear, “I said, you need to take care of yourself! Is your body doing okay? What medicine are you taking?”
“What medicine? Ha! What can I even take?” she gently shook her head. “The town pharmacist prescribed me something, said it’s for toning up, but I feel just fine! They won’t let me do any work! No digging or weeding! Even Barry is making a fuss about it. If I really were sick, it would have been from being cooped up!”
She didn’t seem too keen on discussing it, and turning to Barry, she waved him over. “By the way, go get those dresses I made for her. They’re in the cupboard by the door.”
Dresses?
“Grandma, you made me dresses?”
I blurted out before she pinched my nose and smiled wide. “What else would I make them for? The stray cats and dogs?”
“I’ve missed you so badly! I’ve been waiting like forever! You’ve been so busy with those big things I don’t understand… It’s getting cold in the royal city. Look at you rushing around! You probably haven’t packed enough warm clothes, have you? Good thing I made some…”
When Barry returned with the dresses, Grandma ushered him out of the room, eager to catch up with me. She made me try on each piece she’d created.
The clothes were made from some cheap yet cozy fabric—long skirts and cloaks, all slightly oversized because Grandma thought I’d grow taller in the last two years.
Unfortunately, reality doesn’t bend to our whims.
Most of the outfits hung on me like drapes on a scarecrow.
As I tried them on, Grandma bombarded me with questions about the outside world—was it chaotic out there, were there more wars, was I going back to battle again, how was Dad, what about that mustachioed swordsman, and how was that Pope fellow doing?
Oh, and she still remembered Carlos! Not to mention my “great relationship” with the Church. And she knew the Valen Empire had been at war recently, with my own father, the Duke Skarlij, leading one of the armies!
She expressed concern about whether I would get dragged into the chaos, understanding the harshness of war. For quite some time, she feared news of bad tidings would reach our home…
However, her grasp of the whole situation was pretty limited. Her questions were straightforward and uncomplicated. Despite her best attempts to fathom what I had experienced, the intricate details of my life were far beyond the understanding of a woman who couldn’t even read.
Even my “d*ath” incident seemed mysterious to her, as Barry hadn’t been around, and the little village was in turmoil. Poor Grandma was likely too frazzled to ask too many questions, but thankfully, Ryan had followed my instructions to bring her here…
Ryan probably found out about my supposed d*ath.
Yet at that time, he likely kept it a secret from Grandma.
“So what if the clothing is a bit big? It’s okay! I can easily fix it! I can get you a proper ensemble today!”
Despite my protesting, Grandma was determined to resize the dresses, no amount of reasoning could sway her.
Before long, Ryan came upstairs with a pot of medicine.
This boy, who always seemed a bit baby-faced to me, now looked older, sporting slicked-back hair and a hint of facial hair.
He said he was here to feed Grandma her medicine. I thought I could handle it, but Grandma insisted I step down for a moment to enjoy some hot tea and a snack.
I couldn’t argue with Grandma, so I left the bedroom. In the hallway, I ran into Barry, who pulled me into another room, seriousness etched on his face.
“The last doctor who came said the time left… isn’t much…”
