She pressed two fingers to his wrist, counting the beat. Fast. Too fast.
“Water,” she said over her shoulder. “And bring me willow bark if there’s any left.”
Someone moved. It startled her, sometimes, that people listened to her now without question. She had not known she could command a room until necessity demanded it.
Ariella stood again, and the world tilted.
Not dramatically. Not like in stories where women swoon prettily into waiting arms.
It was a sudden, sickening wave. Heat rushed up her throat, and her vision narrowed at the edges as if the hall had drawn curtains around her.
She blinked hard.
The floor felt too far away.
Her stomach rolled.
She pressed her palm to the edge of a table to steady herself, willing the dizziness to pass.
It did not.
“Me lady?”
Isla’s voice cut through the haze, sharper than usual.
Ariella turned her head slightly and saw her maid’s face tightening, eyes scanning Ariella with quick, practical alarm.
“I am fine,” Ariella tried, but the words felt thick.
Isla stepped close, not asking permission. “Ye are nae.”
Ariella attempted a breath. It came shallow, unsatisfying.
She set her jaw. “There are men bleeding.”
“And ye will be on the floor in half a heartbeat if ye daenae move,” Isla snapped, then lowered her voice so only Ariella could hear. “Me lady. Please.”
Ariella tried to straighten, tried to prove she could, but the room swayed again, and her knees softened.
Isla caught her elbow. “That’s it. We’re done.”
Ariella’s pride flared weakly. “Isla.”
“Nay,” Isla said, firm as iron. “Ye daenae get to be brave and stupid at the same time.”
Ariella opened her mouth to argue, but another wave of nausea hit, and she swallowed it back, breathing through her nose like she had taught Mairi to do.
Isla guided her out of the main hall and down a side corridor toward the surgery room, where the healer kept her cleanest supplies. Ariella’s boots scuffed faintly on stone. Her hands felt suddenly cold.
“I am only tired,” Ariella whispered.
Isla made a low sound of disbelief. “Ye’ve been tired for days. Ye’ve been pale for days. And ye have been eating like a sparrow.”
Ariella’s throat tightened. “I have eaten.”
“Half bites daenae count,” Isla muttered.
They reached the surgery. The healer was there, sleeves rolled, hands stained, eyes sharp and exhausted. She looked up as they entered, then frowned immediately at Ariella’s face.
