Page 43 of The King's Sword
“Don’t press too hard,” he said. “Just cover the area.”
She nodded, gently putting the gooey substance over his wound.
“Now I need you to sew me together.”
“You want me to do what?” The only thing she’d ever sewn was a pillow.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said. “Pick up the needle and thread.”
With shaking hands, she found the needle and thread.
“Push my skin together and sew. Pretend it’s fabric.”
He had to be joking.
“Hand it to me. I’ll do it.”
“No.” She would fix him up. After all, he was in this mess because of her. Once she had the needle threaded, she placed it at the tip of the wound.
“I’m only going to be numb for a few more minutes,” Evander said. “I’d like to have the wound closed before feeling returns to the area.”
That gave her the strength to begin. She used one hand to hold the skin together and the other to push the needle through his skin. She quickly sewed the skin closed and tied off the thread. “Now what?”
“Did the apothecary give you something for me to drink?”
Sabine reached into the basket, pulling out the other vial and handing it to Evander.
He took it and quickly drank the contents, handing the vial back to her when done.
“Now what?”
“We wait.” He laid his head back against the pillow. “In a couple of hours, I’ll have you put the medicine for infection on the wound again.”
After placing everything back in the basket, she set it aside and stood. “Let’s get your shirt off.” Not only did they need to keep the wound clean, she didn’t want it rubbing against the cut and making it bleed again.
“I don’t want to move and reopen it.”
Since his shirt was pretty much ruined, she took hold of the bottom of it, tearing it in half. Then she carefully pulled it from him without moving him too much.
“I’ve always envisioned a woman doing that to me but under very different circumstances.” The corners of his lips rose in a slight smile.
“If you can joke at a time like this, then I know you’re going to be okay.” She tossed his shirt in the corner of the room and left.
She heard him calling out after her, but she ignored him. Downstairs, she went to the young woman working behind the counter. “May I please have a bowl of water?” She had no idea if this was a strange request or not.
The woman nodded and left the room. She returned a minute later with a bucket filled with water and a small towel.
“Thank you.” Sabine carefully carried the bucket upstairs. Back in the room, she set the bucket next to the bed.
“I thought I made you mad, so you left.”
“Have you so little faith in me?” she asked, using the same words he had earlier. She sat on the edge of the bed and dipped the towel in the water. Then she used it to gently wipe the dried blood from Evander’s torso, being careful to avoid the area around the cut. She noticed goosebumps covered his skin as she wet it.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice soft.
“I know. But I want to.” She continued to wipe him off until most of the blood was gone. “Now let’s clean your hands.” After she re-wet the towel, she wiped the blood from his hands, noticing the calluses on his fingers.
When she finished, she tossed the towel in the bucket.
