The Bride, the Groom, and the Bottle of Doom

Ghassid rushed down the street, dodging people left and right.

“Ayo! Ay! Stop that man!” he shouted, pointing ahead at a Royal Courier moving twenty or so paces ahead of him.

The crowd was thick, and Ghassid could hardly move. He tried to yell over the mass, but the sound of hawkers, livestock, and chatter drowned him out. The courier was getting farther and farther away, but Ghassid knew exactly where he was headed. To the Royal Palace.

Ghassid finally broke through the crowd, sprinting towards the palace gates in time to see the Courier disappear within the walls. Ghassid ran after him just as the guards lowered their lances, blocking his path.

“Stop right there!” said one guard.

“Please! I need to get through!” Ghassid replied, frantic.

“Not without an invitation, you don’t,” the second guard replied.

“I need — That man! He is carrying poison!”

“Poison? Says who?”

Ghassid looked at the guards and sighed. He didn’t have time for this, but he didn’t want to get arrested either. Not with so much at stake.

Ghassid reached into his shirt and pulled out a little pack of scrolls, unrolling them to reveal several potion recipes. He pointed to the first page.

“This is a binding draught. It’s for the royal wedding happening today — ”

“Yeah, we know,” said the guards.

“Good. You probably also know that the prince is nervous around crowds. This — ” Ghassid flipped the page, revealing another recipe, “Is a calming tonic. Made specifically for this occasion, right? Now this,” Ghassid flipped the page once more, revealing a third recipe with an ominous looking skull on the top right corner, “is the Widow’s Kiss. First it dries the mouth, then blocks the lungs and stops the heart.”

The first guard frowned. “Who are you?”

“My name is Ghassid. I’m the Royal Apothecary’s apprentice. I was supposed to make these first two potions for the wedding today…and I was experimenting with the third. But the royal courier,” Ghassid said, pointing past the guards to where the man had disappeared, “took all three! So I need to get through, so I can stop him before he accidentally gives the royal couple a bottle of poison!”

The guards looked at one another, then sighed and raised their spears.

“Thank you!” Ghassid said, rushing past them and onto the palace grounds.

He had only been on the palace grounds once before, and had no idea where to look.

Find the prince and princess, before it’s too late, he thought to himself.

A crowd appeared to be gathering at the south end of the grounds, and Ghassid spotted his friend Farhan, a royal page, who was directing the guests towards the temple.

“Farhan!” Ghassid exclaimed.

“Ghassid?” Farhan replied, “What are you doing here? Looking for Master — ”

“No time to explain! Where is the royal couple?”

Farhan shook his head. “Umm, the prince is on his way to the temple, and the princess is still in her quarters.”

“Quarters? Where?”

Farhan raised an eyebrow, and Ghassid placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please! It’s important!”

Farhan regarded Ghassid for a moment, then nodded. “South Wing. End of the hall. Just follow the jasmine petals.”

Ghassid nodded, and Farhan continued, “But only women are allowed back there.”

But Ghassid didn’t hear that last bit. He was already sprinting away.

South wing. End of the hall. South wing. South wing.

Ghassid immediately got disoriented amongst all the people milling about in the atrium. Floral arrangements and decorations being brought here, fine silver and dishes being brought there, and all manner of nobles and courtiers marvelling at the vaulted halls and ceilings of the royal palace.

Ghassid’s head began to spin, and then he spotted jasmine petals leading up a marble staircase. Yalla!

Ghassid sprinted up the stairs, following the petals down the hall. Several voices called after him, but Ghassid was undeterred. He burst through the door at the end of the hall, and a group of maids shrieked as he entered.

And there she was. Princess Almira. She was wearing her wedding gown, draped in green, gold, and white. She was absolutely radiant, and Ghassid suddenly lost the ability to speak.

“Yes. Can I help you?” the princess asked, and Ghassid snapped to.

“Your majesty. Did you receive a potion recently? The…binding draught?”

The princess nodded.

“Yes,” she replied. “I have it right here.”

She produced a small vial from her blouse, and Ghassid took a step forward to look more closely. Several guards entered the room, and Almira raised a hand.

“It’s fine,” she said, and Ghassid approached, looking down at the vial. His eyes widened.

“This isn’t…this isn’t it,” he said, and the princess raised an eyebrow.

“Not it? Then what is it?”

“This is the calming tonic. Meant for your…for someone else.”

“Well, then, where is my binding draught?” the princess said, slightly irritated all of a sudden. Ghassid raised his hands.

“Your Majesty, all will be made well again. If you’ll give me that, I can get your binding draught.”

The princess pulled the vial back, and the guards took a step towards Ghassid.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

Ghassid stiffened, then smiled.

“You don’t. But right now, your betrothed is about to have a panic attack, and unless I get him that —” Ghassid pointed at the vial. “He might not make it through the wedding introductions. So — if you please?”

Ghassid held out his hand, and the princess regarded him for a moment, then sighed and gave him the vial.

“Thank you,” he said, rushing past the guards and out of the room.

Ghassid sprinted down the hall. Where was the prince? Where was the poison? He heard fanfare playing from the palace grounds. The ceremony was about to begin. He was running out of time.

He landed at the bottom of the stairs, then looked to the temple across the courtyard. The guests were seated, and there he was. Prince Anwar himself, standing at the end of the aisle.

Still standing, Ghassid thought. That’s a good sign.

But there was something strange about the prince. He was clinging to the hand of one of his groomsmen, gazing into his eyes. Uh-oh, Ghassid thought. That’s not good.

He couldn’t just walk into the sanctuary past all those people. He needed a stealthier tactic. So Ghassid decided to sneak around and look for a side entrance. There was a stewards’ door hidden behind some bushes.

Perfect, Ghassid thought, slipping inside.

There was a low murmur in the room as the guests sat, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Ghassid spotted the prince and crept up to him, keeping out of sight behind a great floral arrangement.

“Psst!” he whispered, leaning in towards the prince.

Prince Anwar didn’t notice. He was staring into the eyes of his groomsman, clinging to his wrist for dear life.

“Psst!” Ghassid whispered again, more clearly. The groomsman spotted him, and his eyes widened.

“Who are you?” the groomsman asked.

“I’m the Apothecary…’s apprentice.” he said, and the groomsman’s face dropped. “Has the prince had anything….strange to drink today?”

The groomsman glanced at the prince and shrugged. “He took a sip of his calming tonic. Nothing else.”

“Do you still have the bottle?”

The groomsman reached into the prince’s pocket and pulled out a vial, then handed it to Ghassid. The prince noticed Ghassid for the first time.

“Hel-lo. Who are you?” the prince asked, letting go of the groomsman and extending his hand. Ghassid took the prince’s hand as he looked down at the vial.

“My name is Ghassid,” he said, recognizing the vial of the binding potion. Binding potion!?

Ghassid looked up at the prince, who was now staring directly at him with dreamy eyes.

“Oh no! This isn’t good!”

“You’re telling me!” replied the groomsman, shaking out his hand. “He’s been clinging to me like a wet cloth for the last twenty minutes. What was in that potion?”

“Binding agent. Meant for the bride and groom to take together. Now he’s — ”

“Ghassid, you said your name was?” the prince said, tilting his head towards Ghassid. “Mmm…Ghassid.”

“Where’s the antidote?” the groomsman asked, and Ghassid shook his head.

“There is no antidote!”

“What!?”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. We just need to get him to bind with Almira before the agent sets in.”

“Sets in? I think it’s already set in!”

Ghassid shook his head.

“No. You seal it with a kiss.”

“A kiss?” the prince asked, leaning in towards Ghassid.

“Not so fast, Highness!” Ghassid said, ducking under the prince and moving to the centre of the stage.

Suddenly the music began. Trumpets. Strings. Flutes. Ghassid looked down the aisle in horror as Princess Almira appeared, walking down the aisle.

“Oh, no. This is not good.”

“You’ve got this, Gasten—” the groomsman said.

“Ghassid.”

“Yeah, whatever. You’ve got this, just hold on for a bit longer.”

Ghassid placed a hand on the prince’s chest, holding him back.

The seconds dragged by in agony as Almira walked down the aisle. She was warm and radiant on the surface, yet stared at Ghassid with ice in her eyes.

“What is going on!?” Almira whispered when she arrived beside Ghassid.

“It’s okay. This may be a little unorthodox, but I need you to kiss your groom.”

“Kiss him? Now?” Almira asked as the Prince continued to stare at Ghassid.

“He’s taken the binding potion. I need you to seal it, before he seals me!”

Almira gasped, then looked at the prince.

She wasted no time, grabbing Anwar’s face and bringing it to hers with a kiss.

The crowd gasped. The music died.

The prince blinked several times, then came back to his senses.

“Almira. You’re here. Where did you…?”

Ghassid smiled up at the prince, then looked at Almira.

“And that’s my cue.” He nodded at the couple, stepped away, and let the ceremony begin.

Watching the priest mount the steps, Ghassid wondered to himself, If the princess had the calming tonic, and the prince had the binding potion…then who has the poison?

The priest smacked his lips several times.

“Sorry…mouth is a little dry.”

His mouth is a little dry, Ghassid thought. His mouth is a little dry!?

He suddenly remembered the symptoms of the Widow’s Kiss. First it dries the mouth, then blocks the lungs and stops the heart.

Suddenly the priest brought his hands to his chest, gasping for breath. A hush fell over the crowd as Ghassid glanced around.

What do I do!? What do I do!?

Black veins began to appear on the priest’s face and neck, then he fell to the ground with a whump. The crowd gasped.

Suddenly there was a loud boom at the back of the sanctuary, and everyone turned to see a bearded man with a long dark cloak standing at the back of the room. This was Master Zayd, the Apothecary. He strode swiftly up the aisle toward the choking priest.

“Uh-oh. This isn’t good,” Ghassid said, trying to disappear behind the floral arrangement once again as Princess Almira spoke to the Apothecary.

“Master Zayd. You’ve come just in time. Please, can you help?”

Zayd nodded, pointing down at the prone priest. “Lift him up.”

The groomsman nodded, then helped the priest sit up.

Zayd crouched in front of him, pulling a handful of orange powder out of a pouch by his waist. He blew the powder on the priest’s face, then snapped his finger.

Suddenly the orange powder glittered in flashes of red, green, and blue, and disappeared. Zayd then placed a hand on the priest's forehead, mumbling something in an ancient tongue. The black veins on the priest’s face moved upwards, disappearing under Zayd’s palm.

Zayd removed his hand, and the priest gasped as he regained consciousness. Several people in the crowd sighed in relief.

“Are you okay?” Zayd asked the priest.

The priest nodded, and Prince Anwar helped him to his feet as the crowd cheered.

Zayd turned to address the wedding guests.

“I am so sorry for the inconvenience. Please, let the festivities continue.” Zayd looked at the priest. “That is, if you are fit to carry on?”

The priest nodded, and Zayd stepped to the side as the priest raised his hands, resuming the ceremony.

All was saved. Ghassid smiled, keeping out of sight as he quietly slipped out the stewards door and into the courtyard. Time to head back to the Apothecarium.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice called from behind him.

Ghassid stopped in his tracks, turning as Zayd emerged from a bush.

“Ahh, I was just off to make sure the potions were all in order.”

“Potions all in order? You mean the potions you just mixed up?”

Ghassid glanced around. “Ahh…”

“You gave the princess a calming tonic? And the prince a binding draught?”

“No, you see — it was the courier who mixed up the potions. He gave the wrong ones to the prince and princess.”

“Ahh, the courier. Of course. So, it was the courier who made the Widow’s Kiss as well? The bottle of poison, and gave it to the priest? Or am I missing something?”

Ghassid looked at the ground. It was no use arguing.

“Seems you have a bit too much spare time on your hands, khayal. And it also seems as though you’re having some trouble with your memory.”

Ghassid was silent.

“So here’s what we’re going to do. Starting this afternoon, you will relabel every single ingredient in the store room. Some are smudged, others are missing. I want every last item categorized and accounted for.”

“Every last item? But there are hundreds of ingredients in the store room!"

Master Zayd smiled wryly. “Then I suggest you get started right away.”

Ghassid sighed. This was going to be a long summer.