The room was lit by a lantern on the bedside table.Edmund was propped up with pillows, his legs stretched out on the mattress.His right foot was at an odd angle.He managed to smile at me, but his face was pale.“I’ll be fine, Giselle.Perhaps we can call for my physician, Mr.Thatcher.He’s in Delibera.Shouldn’t be too far.”
Alexander shot me a skeptical look.
Maddox stood in the corner, looking utterly bewildered.
I sighed.“Do you feel pain or numbness?”
Edmund pulled up the leg of his trousers.His ankle was covered by his stockings, but I could tell it was swollen.“A bit of both,” he said.
“Then it’s most likely a fracture.”I thought back to what Grandma had used when Christabella had taken a tumble from the stairs.It was a basic healing balm many herbwitches sold.She had wrapped Christabella’s ankle tightly in bandages and reapplied the stuff every day.It took about two or three days to fully heal.The other details were fuzzy.
“Alexander, do you have some healing balm?”I asked.
Alexander went to fetch it from the medicine cabinet downstairs as I cut some linen strips from scrap fabric, fashioning bandages.When it came time to see to Edmund’s ankle, Alexander shooed me away and claimed that he and Maddox could do the rest themselves.
“Maddox?”I said incredulously.“But he doesn’t know what he’s doing!”
“I’ve wrapped plenty of wounds when I was in the Royal Guard,” Maddox said, affronted.Then he shut the door in my face.
I had no option but to head back downstairs and busy myself with making tea.I boiled some water, found a tin of smoked tea leaves, and let them steep.When the tea was ready, Alexander and Maddox came downstairs.
“Well?”I asked.
“We’ve done the best we could,” Alexander said.“There’s not much healing balm left.We’ll have to get more, but...”He glanced outside.It was still pitch black.
“He’ll be fine,” Maddox said, rolling his eyes.“It’s not like he got ran over by a carriage.”
I pushed past him and reentered Edmund’s room with the tray of tea things.Edmund looked a little less pale, but he kept shooting uneasy glances at his bandaged foot.It was wrapped relatively neatly, to my surprise.Perhaps Maddox was good for something after all.
“How does it feel?”I asked, setting the tray on Edmund’s bedside table.
“Better, thank you,” he said.
I poured him a cup of tea.It was strongly brewed with a smoky, earthy scent.
Edmund took it, but didn’t drink.“No milk or sugar?”
The only way to drink smoked tea was with water, but that opinion seemed to fall right out of my head when Edmund lifted his clear, earnest gaze to mine.
“I can find some if you want,” I said before I could stop myself.
He smiled.“That would be lovely.”
I fetched the milk and sugar.
“I completely understand if you want to go back home,” I said when I came back up, somewhat out of breath.I set the things on the tray with a clatter.
Edmund shoveled a teaspoon of sugar into his cup of tea and stirred it in.“I confess I do want to go home.”
I deflated.“Of course.I’m sorry this visit isn’t going as planned.”I took a seat on the stool before the desk.“I promise Witch Village isn’t always this chaotic.”
Edmund smiled again, his eyes turning into half-moons as the corners crinkled.“I believe you.”
Silence ensued as he tipped a bit of milk into his tea.The dark liquid grew cloudy as he stirred it in, his spoon clinking against the porcelain.
“You remind me of my grandmother,” I blurted out, hoping to strike up conversation again.
Edmund laughed, gesturing to himself surrounded by floral bedsheets.“Yes, all I need is white hair and a lacy bonnet.”
