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“To cut away what I can of the infection.”
“Oh.”
We are awkward and anxious but determined. I return and instruct Sir Victor to lie back. I move the lantern to the table to give me the much-needed light for the sutures. I give Victor a small piece of leather.
“Put this between your teeth and bite down. It helps.”
He scoffs at the sight of the leather. “No need for that. I will be fine. Do your work, my princess.”
I start with the infection and I know he feels it. He is trying not to cry out but is squirming and breathing sharply. He takes a deep breath when the wound is finally clean, and I stop the prodding.
“It looks much better, praise the gods,” I say. “Now, let me rub this numbing paste on the cut. It will burn at first but will feel much better after a minute or two. Then I can do the sutures.”
He nods and places the piece of leather between his teeth. I smile at his good decision and set to work again.
“How does it feel?” I ask when Sir Victor is seated at the table in the kitchen.
“Much better. You are a good healer, Princess Milla. Thank you.”
I laugh. “No, I am a good student. Gram was the healer. I’m simply glad I was able to acquire some of her knowledge.”
I stoke the fire, ensuring the room is warm. Sir Victor is still shirtless, and I don’t want him to catch a chill. I set a cup of thyme tea in front of him.
“Now drink. It will help with the pain.”
I raise an eyebrow and he sips the tea. I touch his arm and notice his jaw clench. It’s not from any pain he’s in and I move my hand away quicky. He’s not reacting to pain. He’s responding to my touch.
“I think it will be all right to put your shirt on now,” I say. “I’ll get it for you. I don’t want you to get cold.”
I return with the shirt.
“Look in the pocket,” Sir Victor says.
I reach in the pocket and pull out my mother’s rolled up letter. I turn my back to Sir Victor and push the small linen parchment into the tiny pocket of my chemise beside Gram’s match.
“Thank you, my lord. I am grateful to have it returned.” I hand him his shirt.
“Might I be so bold?” he asks.
“Certainly.”
“Do you have a beau, princess?”
My eyes open wider.That was bold indeed. “Yes. Well, no. It is complicated, kind sir.”
He is matter of fact. “Love often is. Is Jordy your beau?”
“I thought he was, but I saw him kissing someone else.” I know my cheeks are flush. It’s hard to admit that my lips weren’t enough for Jordy.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, princess. But if Jordy doesn’t value your worth, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
I wonder what Sir Victor would think if I told him that the girl Jordy was kissing was Treena? There is no way I’m revealing that indignity, so I change the subject instead.
“So, what happens next?” I ask. “With the resistance and storming the palace? What is the plan exactly?”
I help him slip his shirt over his head and he leaves it untied in the front.
“Well,” he replies, “the blacksmiths will forge weapons over the next three days. Then the resistance will ride to the palace in the wee hours on the fourth day to surprise the king and take back your rightful place on the throne. There are no more than three hundred citizens of the palace lands, and the king’s army is good, but not when surprised. There is lots of work to do over the next several days, but we will accomplish it.”
