Towels, a bucket, rags, a healing elixir, needle and thread, and bandages.
“Assholes from Serpent’s Cove, that’s what happened,” I muttered as I grabbed all of the necessary items and stood up to face her. Mother walked up to Quill and took his bloodied shirt from his hands, a shameful expression on his face. Thank the Gods he wore a black shirt today because even after cleaning a lighter shirt, it would’ve been impossible to sneak back into the kingdom without alerting authorities.
“They were going to hurt me, but Quill stopped them,” I added softly, washing my hands under the cold stream from our sink. It did nothing to calm the burning in my hands. I sighed and added water to the bucket.
“Then, once again, you have my thanks, Quill.” Mother smiled, but it quickly faded. “How…how exactly did you stop them?”
He looked at me. Those men may have been monsters, but we could still get in trouble if anyone found out he had killed them. I clenched my jaw.
“Quill fought well and disarmed them all,” I quickly said. Mother turned to me, and I tried to keep my face neutral. “They got scared and left,” I lied.
Quill gave me a thankful look, but I could sense how terrible he felt about it.
“Well…I hope they don’t change their mind and come back,” Mother said, eyes worried as she glanced at our front door.
“They won’t,” I mumbled softly as I approached Quill. I had him scoot over onto a towel and sat next to him. I untied my torn bit of dress to expose his horrid gash.
Mother gasped. “Do you want me to stitch it?”
“No. I can do it,” I said. Quill gazed into my eyes and smiled gently. It meant a lot knowing he trusted me. I had given Mother stitches many times on the road. Even though she could heal herself, she insisted it was a skill I needed to know. She would always remove them and heal herself afterward.
I dampened one of the rags in the bucket and brought both up to his chest. I let the water drip down, cleaning away the excess blood. He winced at the cold, his stomach flexing in response. “I’m sorry,” I cringed.
Mother began scrubbing the blood from Quill’s shirt in the sink.
“This is going to sting a little,” I said apologetically after placing the rag and bucket down and reaching for the healing elixir. He just nodded, and I placed a dry rag on his stomach, pulled off the cork to the bottle, and then poured it on his gash. The elixir bubbled as it hit the swollen cut, causing him to hiss. “I know it hurts, but I promise it will help.”
He let out a breathy laugh. “It’s already starting to feel better.”
“There are numbing properties to this one, so hopefully, the stitches won’t be too unbearable. It might even prevent it from scarring.”
I readied my needle and began stitching, neatly weaving the thread through his wound.
“That’s amazing,” he whispered. “I don’t feel a thing.”
I smiled but didn’t meet his eyes. Word getting out to the Inner Ring has been a blessing financially, but the elixirs in our home were more potent than those we sold. Those for sale eased pain, but couldn’t erase it as this one had.
“It’s probably the adrenaline. Surely you feel something?” I asked dishonestly.
“No, I feel nothing.”
Quill just continued to study me as I sewed his wound.
“What would I do without you?” he teased, and I glanced up to see his lazy smile.
“Certainly perish,” I teased back, continuing to stitch his wound. “I think I should be the one saying that to you,” I said quietly enough that Mother couldn’t hear over the running water. I paused and looked at him intently. “Thank you. For doing what you had to. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
His brows knitted. “Actually, it was one of the easiest things I’ve ever done.” I blinked at the remark, and then he lowered his voice. “The thought of them doing anything to you, especially…what they were suggesting…It would’ve taken a great effortnotto kill them.”
I flushed and resumed my work.
“Do you think I’m a monster?” he whispered, and I glimpsed up at him, noting his worried expression.
“The furthest thing from it.”
As I finished the stitches, Mother walked over, holding his clean shirt.
“It’s damp, but the stains are less noticeable, and the smell is gone. Thankfully, you wore a dark shade.” She examined the shirt. “Your cloak should conceal it well enough. But do you wish to stay until it is dry?”
