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“I’ll be fine,” Chrisdean reassured her, wishing that he could somehow take away her agony. “I’ve had worse.”
“Have ye?”
“Na,” Chrisdean admitted with a small, easy smile. “But I’ve survived everythin’ else, so I dinna see why I wouldna survive this. Everythin’ will be just fine, lass. Just . . . just stay with me, please?”
“Of course,” Nimue said. Reassured, Chrisdean closed his eyes, eager to go to sleep and hopefully not feel the searing pain on his side anymore.
When he awoke again, he didn’t know how much time had passed. The sky was dark outside, and Nimue was sleeping on a chair that she had pulled right next to the bed, and so Chrisdean deduced that he must have slept for a few hours at least. He watched her for a few moments, enjoying how peaceful she was, but that didn’t last long before he was swept by a coughing fit that had his entire ribcage rattling.
Nimue woke up with a start, rushing to his side once more. The more Chrisdean coughed, the more his wound ached and protested, and he worried that his coughing would only worsen it, opening it up even more. He could already feel blood trickling down his side, and he tried to suppress his cough, but his efforts were to no avail.
“Chrisdean . . .” Nimue said, a hand coming up to pet his hair. She poured water into a cup from a pitcher that stood on the bedside table, and then she helped him drink a few sips, which seemed to help. Chrisdean’s cough subsided, but it wasn’t completely gone.
“Ivy and thyme,” Nimue said softly, as though she were talking to herself. “I’ll bring ye some ivy and thyme to drink. Will ye be alright?”
“Aye,” Chrisdean said. “Thank ye, Nimue.”
With one last kiss on his forehead, Nimue was gone. Chrisdean closed his eyes again, wishing for a little more sleep.
