"Good," Donnach finally said. "Ye're getting’ it. Now let's try on an actual person."
He called in a passing servant who was not busy doing anything to serve as a practice patient. The young man barely twenty, with a friendly face extended his arm gamely.
"Go easy on me, miss," he joked. "I'm rather fond of this arm."
"I'll dae me best." Mhairi's hands were shaking slightly as she picked up the cloth.
This was different from the wooden arm. This was a real person with real circulation and real nerves that could be damaged if she got it wrong. But to be honest, also less slipepry than the wooden arm.
"Start at the wrist," Donnach instructed. "Work yer way up."
Mhairi began wrapping, hyperaware of every movement. Was she pulling too tight? Not tight enough? The guard's face remained neutral, giving her no feedback.
"How daes that feel?" she asked as she worked.
"Fine so far, miss."
She continued upward, trying to maintain the same rhythm Donnach had shown her. When she reached the elbow, she had to adjust the angle. That was the tricky part, where most of her practice wraps had failed.
"Steady," Donnach murmured. "Ye're daein’ well."
She finished the wrap and tied it off, then stepped back to examine her work. It wasn't perfect, there was still a slight unevenness near the wrist, but it was functional. The cloth held secure, the pressure looked consistent.
"How daes it feel?" she asked the lad anxiously.
He flexed his arm experimentally. "Good, miss. Snug but nae too tight. I can move freely enough."
Relief flooded through her. "Really?"
"Really."
Donnach was smiling. "Well done, lass. That was a solid first attempt on a real patient. With more practice, ye'll be bindin’ wounds in yer sleep."
The servant thanked her and left, and Mhairi found herself grinning despite her earlier frustration. She'd done it. Not perfectly, but competently enough that a real patient felt comfortable with her work.
"See?" Donnach said. "All it takes is patience and practice. Ye've got the hands fer this, Mhairi. And more importantly, ye've got the heart. The technical skills will come with time."
"Thank ye fer bein’ patient with me when I was getting frustrated."
"Every healer gets frustrated when learnin’ new skills. I threw an entire tray of instruments across this room once when I couldnae master a particularly difficult suturing technique." He chuckled at the memory. "The important thing is that ye kept tryin’ instead of givin’ up."
They spent the rest of the morning practicing on various volunteers from the castle. By midday, When Donnach finally declared the lesson over, Mhairi's hands were tired but steady, and her heart was full.
That was what she was meant to do.
That was who she was meant to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"Ye're frownin’ at yer soup."
Alpin looked up from his bowl to find Mhairi watching him with amusement.
They were seated at a small table in one of the castle's quieter dining rooms, a space Alpin preferred when he wanted to avoid the noise and spectacle of the great hall.
"I'm nae frownin’ at it. I'm just... thinkin’."
"About soup?"
