Chloe knew she had to let the tea steep for a time. She hesitated as she saw the magus come over to watch, hovering at her shoulder. ‘The tulip.’

‘Tulip?’ He scowled. ‘I would know if tulips had uses other than in a poultice.’

‘It must be selected with care,’ Chloe said, examining the swirling contents of the jug. ‘I must select a single bulb out of hundreds. Certain features mark out a bulb that possesses the power to ease pain.’

‘I want you to show me how you make it,’ the magus demanded.

‘The process is simple. I’ve ground the closed flower pod and now I’m making this tea. You’ve seen me do it.’

‘Let her continue,’ the bald lord in orange robes instructed from the other side of the bed. ‘The king of kings is in pain.’

The magus grunted.

Chloe made a filter out of the fine silk, doubling it over on itself. She glanced around the room, seeing that the steward was busy pressing a damp cloth to the sun king’s brow. ‘I need someone to help me.’

‘I will,’ the lord said. He came around the bed and the magus made way for him. ‘What can I do?’

‘Hold this cloth over the cup. Mind your hands, the water is hot.’

Chloe poured the tea over the cloth in small portions until the cup was full and sodden plant matter had gathered on the silk. Seeing that enough liquid remained in the jug for another cup, she returned the soma flower clinging to the silk to the jug, scraping it off with her fingertips, loath to waste any of its potency.

Finally, she trickled honey from another jar into the cup, then dropped in a wedge of lemon. The last two ingredients were purely to disguise the taste.

‘It’s done,’ she said.

Reaching around Chloe and the lord, the magus took hold of the cup and turned, beckoning for the old slave to come closer.

‘Drink,’ the magus said. ‘A good swallow or I will have you impaled.’

Glancing fearfully at the onlookers, the old slave tipped the cup back, drinking a third of the contents in a single gulp.

While the magus and lord waited, Chloe kept her expression neutral. She saw that the steward had brought a second empty cup and with a nod at the lord to help her again she prepared the additional serving.

When she was done, she returned her gaze to the room. With nothing to occupy her attention the wait dragged out. The old slave looked from face to face. The tension had gone out of his stooped shoulders. He looked like a man contentedly preparing for bed.

‘How do you feel?’ the lord asked.

‘I feel . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘I feel fine.’

‘We should wait longer,’ the magus growled.