Juliane shakes her head. “After what he went through with our mother, I don’t want to burden him with it. I’m sure he suspects I have some of her madness, but I’ve managed to hide how far gone I am.”
I’m not sure that’s true. Lambert would have to be pretty blind not to see what’s happening to his sister. “What did you mean when you saidskoniahelps?”
Her thin shoulders raise and lower in a weary shrug. “It was something Simon wanted to try. When mixed with valerian and other calming herbs, it often slows or stops my mind from building delusions, like bending or breaking a chain of thoughts.” She sighs. “It doesn’t always work, though. Sometimes it makes me worse before putting me to sleep, especially lately.”
So many things are making sense now. “That was the tea Simon gave me.”
“Yes, sorry.” Juliane bites her lip. “He didn’t realize how potent it became from sitting overnight.”
It takes a long time to digest everything Juliane tells me. It’s easy to dismiss a person with madness as less than human, but the woman before me is a better human being than most people I’ve met. Mother Agnes said in Mesanus, people like Juliane are brought into homes and cared for like family. It may be the one place in the world where maladies of the mind are treated like those of the body—with compassion and care. I wonder why Simon hasn’t taken her there. “What can I do to help you?” I ask finally.
Juliane’s eyes are bright with tears, and her smile is a little shaky. “You haven’t immediately made an excuse to leave after listening to all this. That’s more than enough.”