“I can do this,” I told them.
“No, you really can’t,” Clover said.
I didn’t have the energy to fight with them. Standing was enough of an effort. They soaped me up, scrubbed me, dumped more water on me, ran the shower, and finally deposited me into the tub. I melted into the hot water. The heat soothed the ache clenching my muscles. I couldn’t smell the blood anymore, only lavender.
Shana picked up the bloody rags and walked out of the room. Clover sat on a stool next to the bathtub and held out a cup to me.
“What is it?”
“Hot wine with a bitter powder. It will soothe the pain and let you rest.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to sleep.”
“It’s medicinal. You need it.”
“How about tea? I’ll drink tea.”
“Wine is better.” She thrust it into my hands.
I sighed and took a sip. “This soap smells so nice.”
“It’s from the last batch you made, the one with extra breberry oil.”
I sank deeper into the water and took another swallow of wine.
I was home. I was safe. Everard was just outside the door. The nightmare was over.
It was over.
I was scared to close my eyes. If I did, when I opened them, I could be still on the table. This could be a hallucination. A weird vision of safety my brain had conjured up as I died. In a moment I could come to and I would still be . . .
“Clover?”
“Yes.”
“Hold my hand.”
She gripped my fingers.
Quick, like pulling off a Band-Aid. I shut my eyes.
One . . . Two . . . Three . . .
I was still in the bath. I could feel the hot water and Clover’s fingers holding on to mine.
I opened my eyes slowly. It was fine. It was truly over.
“Thank you.”
Clover bit her lip. If she started crying, I would come apart.
“What happened after I left?”
“A woman showed up with a carriage. Lute was inside and he was bleeding. I was trying to get him out when Lord Everard came out of the house.”
She said “Lord Everard” in the same way one would say, “His Majesty has arrived.”
“He saw Lute and his face changed.”
