Henry looked to Belle. “You do not listen, wife.”
Belle laughed. “What wife does?”
“Bah,” Henry said frustrated, “have a look and be done with it.”
“Henry, your manners,” Belle scolded.
Henry shook his head before giving Heather a nod. “Forgive me, my lady, I am a rude, old fool.”
Belle walked over to him and draped her arm around his wide shoulder. “You are my old fool and I love you dearly, and I will not let your stubbornness take you from me.”
Henry slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. “You can be a chore, woman, but I do love you.”
Heather watched the couple with envy. She had thought that she and Quinn would be like them, growing old together and more in love each day.
“A peek and I will be gone,” Heather said as she hunched down to unpeel the dirty bandage off his leg.
Belle hurried and got a small stool to rest her husband’s foot on, making it easier for Heather to examine the wound.
One look at the wound, and Heather knew it needed immediate tending or it would turn putrid. She looked at Henry. “It needs some cleaning and a clean bandage applied.”
“I will fetch what you need,” Belle said, then pointed a finger at her husband, “and you will sit there and say nothing.”
Henry grumbled but did as his wife ordered.
Once the wound was cleaned, Heather saw the problem. “You have a splinter of some sort embedded in the wound. It needs to be removed, and then you should heal fine, for the wound is not deep.” She turned to Belle. “Though, you must change the bandage often.”
“Bah,” Henry snorted, “a waste of time and good cloth.”
“You will mind your manners, Henry, and do what Lady Heather says,” Belle ordered.
“Sorry, my lady,” Henry grumbled.
Heather bowed her head to hide her smile. He might be a gruff man, but he gave no guff to his wife when she gave him an order.
It did not take long to remove the sliver of wood with Belle’s bone needle and apply a fresh bandage to the leg. After all was done, Heather stood and looked to Belle. “He should stay off that leg for at least the remainder of the day, two ifpossible, to give the wound time to close some. And change the bandage in two days. If the wound has a bad odor or reddens, let me know right away. In the meantime, I will leave some leaves for you to brew and have Henry drink.”
Belle shot her husband a warning look before he could complain, and he grumbled beneath his breath.
Heather left the cottage, her stomach grumbling, reminding her that the day was winding on and she had barely eaten. She also needed to change her garments, her appearance not at all presentable. She finally made it inside the keep without being stopped and was delighted to see a familiar and friendly face.
Nessa was a few years younger than her. She was petite and plump with long red hair that she wore in a single braid. She had the prettiest face and the loveliest dark eyes and a smile that never faltered. She had worked, since young, alongside her mum in the keep. Her mum had passed on a couple of years ago and last Heather knew, Nessa had continued her duties in the keep. There was no one who knew the place like she did and Heather was glad to see her.
“Lady Heather,” Nessa cried and hurried to her.
The two hugged, neither noticing the stares from the few warriors and servants in the Great Hall.
“It is good to see you,” Heather said.
“I am so pleased to see you, though when I learned you were the Dark Dragon’s wife, I prayed for you.”
“The union was necessary,” Heather said.
“So I learned.”
“Tell me what has happened here,” Heather said. “I recognize few villagers.”
Nessa kept her voice low. “They are gone—disappeared—swallowed whole by the Dark Dragon.”
