It wasn’t until she had quit the chamber that Kaiden allowed the rage to overcome him, flipping over the table near the bed because it was the only thing he could reach without falling out of it. The items crashed to the floor, and he roared, knowing that someone would be coming to check on him directly. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, Ferra was right. There were others that were depending on him to walk out of this chamber when Kaiden knew it was an impossible task.
He hated himself for this.
He was a coward.
“Bloody hell,” Kaiden grumbled, beating his fist against the bedding once more. He would have to let Ferra do this. She had given him hope where everyone else hadn’t, and though the prospect of this treatment failing as well weighed heavily on his soul, it was the only option he had.
First, though, he would have to figure out how to get her to do so. Kaiden surmised that he would have a devil of a time getting her to come back to his chamber, to begin with.
So, when the servant finally broached the doorway to check on him, Kaiden told him to go get his wife and her knife.
It was time to begin.
6
Aweek later
Ferra smiled as she peeled back the cloth that held the poultice in place, noting the area was not red and inflamed once again. Indeed, there were signs of the skin knitting together already, the area looking healthy for the first time in a few days.
“Well?” Kaiden asked from the head of the bed. “Wot does it look like?”
Ferra met his eyes. “It looks like it’s healing itself.”
The relief in his eyes was palpable, and he gave her a faint nod. Already, he was looking healthier, the color returning to his skin now that he was free of the fevers and infection. The servants had informed her that his appetite had returned as well, which was a clear sign that the warrior was on the mend.
She wouldn’t have said the same a week ago. The wound had been bulging with infection, seeping where it could but not nearly enough. Once he gave her permission to cut it open, the horrible infection that had drained out of it, well, she didn’t want to think about it. It was a wonder that he was still alive, truly.
After replacing the cloth with a new one, Ferra washed her hands in the basin by the bed. “How do ye feel?”
“I feel fine,” he grumbled. “Hungry.”
She chuckled as she wiped her hands. “Well, then, I will go get ye some more food.”
He arched a brow, surprised by her answer. “Truly?”
When he looked at her like that, Ferra’s heart started to race in her chest. After a week in his presence, she had grown used to his different expressions and mannerisms, but this one was by far her favorite.
He truly was a handsome Scot, his shoulder-length hair down out of its throng this morn. Someone had helped him trim his beard, too, she noted, as well as bathed him, for he smelled far better than usual, the faintest hint of sandalwood clinging to the air.
Not only that, but the chamber had also been tidied, the sheets changed, and the window left open to let the fresh air in. Ferra believed that a clean area meant that infection didn’t have a place to grow, and she had instructed that his chamber always remain clean and full of fresh air.
“Aye,” she finally forced out, hurrying to the door so that he wouldn’t see the flush on her cheeks. “I will be back.”
Once she was outside, she encountered Erik on the stairs.
“Well?” he asked anxiously.
“He’s healing,” she breathed.
Erik let out a low breath, relief on his face as well, before he reached for her, crushing her into a strong embrace. “Ye did it, Ferra. Ye brought him back.”
“Not yet,” she said, patting his back. “We have tae get him out of that bed next.”
Erik pulled away from her, a faint blush crossing his cheeks as he realized that he had just embraced his friend’s lady. “I...I will go discuss it with him.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m glad ye are here. He needs his friends.”
The warrior gave her a tight nod, and they parted ways, Ferra heading to the kitchens to find another tray for her husband.
