“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry your welcome to Wolbourne left something to be desired, Your Highness. I promise we’re not all bigoted fools.” Dr. Fulton pokes around briefly, and Elowyn winces.
“Is she all right?” Rominy asks.
“She’ll be just fine, Your Highness, though the amount of blood present makes me think you might need stitches, my dear. I need to get a better look before giving you a full prognosis. Would you prefer to remove the gown, or shall I cut away the sleeve?”
Elowyn’s cheeks turn rosy as she glances at Rominy, and suddenly his heart is racing again.
Perhaps he should leave. Give her some privacy.
His legs refuse to move, though. After what happened, he never wants to let her out of his sight again.
“It’s such a beautiful gown,” she whispers. “I’m sad to destroy it, though I imagine it’s probably beyond saving now.”
“Blood is a bugger to wash out of clothing,” the doctor says as he digs in his black bag.
“Go ahead and cut it,” Elowyn says.
Disappointment flits through Rominy.
Stars above. What is wrong with him?
“Please have the hotel kitchen send up some boiled water, Your Highness,” Dr. Fulton says to Rominy as he leads Elowyn to the bed to sit.
Boiled water? Rominy frowns. He can’t just leave. He won’t. What if Elowyn needs him?
“Go on now,” the doctor says. “Ask one of your men to send for it. I promise you can stay right here by your wife’s side the entire time.”
Elowyn glances up at Rominy and smiles softly, and he rubs the back of his neck as he heads for the door. Is he that transparent?
As if Elowyn needs him, anyway. She’s the bravest person he knows.
When Rominy returns from making his request, the doctor has cut away most of Elowyn’s sleeve, and the nasty gash slicing across her arm turns Rominy’s stomach.
Maybe he shouldn’t look.
The doctor leans back and sighs. “I definitely recommend stitches. Just a few to help stop the bleeding.”
Elowyn frowns and glances from the doctor to Rominy. “Stitches?”
“He’s going to sew the wound closed,” Rominy says, and Elowyn pales.
“Sew it? My skin? With a needle and thread?” Her heart speeds up, and Rominy glances down at his own chest in surprise. Is she afraid?
“I promise you will hardly feel a thing, Your Highness,” Dr. Fulton says.
But she’s shaking her head and inching away from him.
She’s not just scared. She’s terrified. The doctor glances Rominy’s way as if expecting him to do something, but the idea of Elowyn being afraid of anything is so foreign Rominy can barely process what’s happening.
Then she starts speaking Elvish. Rapidly.
Rominy picks out enough words to guess what she’s saying.
Something about healers and life magic and the word barbaric. Tharios is mixed in, as well.
Stars above. This is not the type of doctoring she’s used to.
At all.
