“Stand as straight as you can.”
Julian did, but his left shoulder hung lower than his right.
“As you can see, Edward is fully recovered.” Mace circled Julian, eyeing his torso and his shoulders. “Your injury looks similar. But, as I said, I am no physician. I can try to help you if you’d like. Or you can wait for the physician.”
“Do what you must.”
“Julian!” Baldwin hissed.
“Do it,” Julian commanded.
Mace stood before him for a moment, eyeing him speculatively. He put his hand over his left shoulder, so it curved to the back. “This will hurt.”
“It already does.”
Mace paused, glancing at Elora once, and then suddenly yanked Julian’s shoulder forward as hard as he could. He quickly backed up, pulling Elora away from Julian.
Julian clenched his jaw and tilted his head back, a guttural growl escaping. His entire body tensed, hands curled into fists, teeth bared.
Elora felt his agony as though it were her own. Her stomach tightened; her heart missed a beat. She darted around Mace to Julian, but Mace caught her arm.
“Give him a second,” he warned her.
Julian groaned and clutched his arm to his side, walking in a circle.
Mace chuckled. “I admire his restraint. He’d be swearing to heaven above if you weren’t here.”
Elora dashed forward swiftly before Mace could stop her. She stepped in front of Julian, placing both of her hands on each side of his face. He was warm, but not burning. “Julian,” she whispered.
Julian opened his eyes and looked at her. His deep blue orbs were wild and filled with pain. His teeth were tight, but he managed to say, “I’m well.”
She stroked his cheek with her thumb, moving it over his stubbled skin, trying to soothe him. He was anything but well. He leaned his head forward to rest it against her forehead and closed his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, “You’ll be well. You’ll feel better.” Her fingers massaged his nape in soothing circles.
After a long moment, Julian pulled his forehead from hers and straightened. He opened his eyes. Gingerly, he lifted his arm. He winced but was able to lift it until it was perpendicular to his shoulder.
“It’s sore, but you can move it,” Mace explained. “I’d give it a day before you attempt to joust again.”
Julian turned to Elora. He rubbed his shoulder, but his gaze was locked on her.
Elora inhaled a trembling breath of relief. His stare was so intense that she felt as though they were the only people in the tent—nay, in the world. The connection was undeniable. Her entire being yearned to kiss him again, to touch him and reassure herself he was better. She swallowed heavily.
He grinned at her as if he knew what she felt.
Her body ached in response, and she blushed from head to toe, glancing at the ground and touching her heated cheeks.
“We should go, Lady Elora,” Mace suggested. “Before Edward becomes suspicious.”
He was right, but Elora didn’t want to leave Julian. “Are you certain you’re better?”
Julian nodded, gently rotating his shoulder. “I am.” He looked at Mace. “Thank you for the use of your lances.”
Mace smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed that joust. You were mad to go against Osmont without a shield.”
“I was not going to lose to him.” He glanced at Elora again. “I made a promise.”
Elora’s lips quivered with delight. He had honored that promise, and she had been delighted to see Osmont in the dirt.
He took a step closer to her, capturing her hand and squeezing it. “I’m glad you came,” he murmured softly.
