Maggie wasn’t entirely sure what bleeding was being discussed, or if she wanted to know. Her priority was Sondre. “What do you need from me?” she asked the doctor.
“Obviously, I want all my beds empty,” the doctor muttered. She rubbed her temple. “Let’s get him sorted, and maybe if Scylla is staying awake this time, I can get them both out of here.”
Sondre tugged on the doctor’s shirt and whispered loudly, “I don’t have a wife, Mae. Think I’m being held captive. She’s a looker, but… I’d remember being married.”
The doctor shot Maggie a look, and then she smiled widely. “Let me get you a drink, Sondre. Hmm? You can tell me all about it. I’ll fix things right up.”
The doctor sashayed her way to the other side of the curtain, and Maggie wondered if the emetic the doctor threatened was on the way.
“Knew she’d forgive me. She always does.” Sondre had a smug look that Maggie wanted to knock off his face. On the other hand, he was oddly adorable in his fever state. He looked at Maggie. “Sorry… whatever your name is. I’m sure we had a great time, but I’m not the marrying sort. You can’t trick me that way.”
Maggie pointed at his ring, and then she held her hand up with the matching one. “We are married, you oaf.”
“Sure, we are.” He patted her butt. “I’ll see you around. Maybe whenI’m not busy”—he darted a salacious look toward the curtain—“you can remind me all about our night, hmm? I don’t usually forget an ass like yours.”
Maggie bit back a laugh. She made a vague gesture toward the main space of the infirmary. “I’m going to go over… there since you’re obviously in need of treatment.”
When Maggie walked over to where the doctor was preparing a concoction that looked like liquid cotton candy, she paused. “That’s not going to make him puke, is it?”
A laugh burst out of Dr. Jemison before she said, “Sadly, no. Oath and all that. He’s actually sick. Give him a few minutes. Witches’ Fever can muddle things. He’ll be mortified afterward, you know. He really does care for you. Asked me to look after you and the boy if he, err, didn’t survive this last trip to stop Aggie.”
“Really?”
The doctor nodded. “Whatever he’s spouting right now is nothing. He’s all yours. Probably a lot more than you know, if he asked Prospero to erase your memory of our moment.” She grinned. “Not that he should’ve. You’re straight as a knife, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“He was wrong to do that,” Dr. Jemison said. “Don’t let him off too easy for that. But this silliness? He’s just feverish. He didn’t mean a thing commenting on me. We’ve just been on and off for a few years. It’s nothing real, not for him.”
Maggie heard what the doctor wasn’t saying: at least one of them had real feelings on the line. It just wasn’t him. She kept her words simple then. “He thinks I’m going to leave him, but I’m not.”
“Insecurities,” Dr. Jemison said simply. “We all have them. Just wait here. You’ll hear when the medicine works. Maybe you’ll hear what you need to know, too.”
Then she stepped past Maggie and carried the flowery-smelling pink goop toward Sondre.
“Aw, Mae. I hate that stuff.” Sondre’s words did nothing to make him seem more somber. He sounded drunk, in fact.
“Do it. You’ll get a prize after…” the doctor cajoled. “Here we are. Drink up, hot stuff.”
As Maggie peered around the curtain, Sondre chugged the goopy stuff and promptly flopped back, eyes closed as if he’d passed out.
Maggie waited, listening to him as the doctor ordered. She felt self-conscious eavesdropping, but at least Lord Scylla was asleep. Maggie sat on the chair next to her as the minutes ticked by and Sondre tried to flirt with the doctor.
After at least three minutes, Maggie’s discomfort switched to worry.What if he really does still have feelings for Dr. Jemison?She knew that they had history, and Maggie was really the new person in the equation.
Then she heard an “Oh hell!” from Sondre. “I need my shoes, Mae. Maggie’s probably halfway to the castle door by now. I said some stupid shit.”
“Sorry I didn’t catch the fever before it spiked.” The doctor sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “So you remember the nonsense you were spouting…?”
“Shoes. I need my shoes,” Sondre muttered. “Shit. Sorry for the things I said to you, too, Mae, but I need to catch Maggie. She must be hurt that I didn’t realize she was—”
“You love her.” Dr. Jemison sounded slightly surprised. “I didn’t know it had become a real marriage.”
“I didn’t expect to feel this, didn’t think I was capable of it,” Sondre rumbled. “She makes me feel like I want to stay at her side and watch over her, like I could be happy.… Being married is not at all what I expected.”
“Go get her.Tellher.”
“No. I have no intention of telling her. I’ve got a plan to present to Congress. She could go back, take her son, go home to the Barbarian Landswithhim instead of staying here with my sorry ass. They are keeping her here as leverage, so I was trying to keep her away from Brandeauand not let her know I… love her.” Sondre let out a loud sigh. “I’m going to talk to Walt again, and if I need to, I’ll… I’ll make deals with Prospero, Scylla, you, anyone I have to. If that’s what she wants, she ought to be able to go. It ought to be her choice.”
