Thank you so much @ Sarebie, for the Golden Tickets.
Thank you so much @ Marijayne32, for the Golden Tickets.
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The thought struck Ivelle with such horrifying force that she nearly stumbled over her own feet as she continued staring at the physician’s table, where several unfamiliar instruments had been arranged with an orderliness that did absolutely nothing to calm her imagination. There were small silver tools, narrow glass containers filled with liquids of different shades, strips of clean cloth, bundles of dried herbs, and several objects whose purposes she could not possibly guess, which naturally meant that her mind immediately began assigning them purposes far worse than they probably deserved.
Were they planning to cut her open?
Her eyes moved slowly from the instruments to the physician.
The man did not look particularly frightening. In fact, that was almost worse. He had the calm expression of someone who had probably performed whatever terrible procedure he was planning many times before, and his complete lack of concern made Ivelle wonder whether physicians were simply accustomed to making people uncomfortable or whether this particular physician had been expecting Zelos to arrive with a terrified young woman and had already decided that her fear was none of his concern.
Then she looked toward Zelos.
That was an even greater mistake.
The man was standing beside the table with his usual expressionless face, his dark eyes resting upon her with an attention that immediately made her uncomfortable, and although she desperately searched his features for some indication that he found her fear amusing, there was absolutely nothing there.
No smie, reassurance or explanation.
Nothing.
Ivelle’s suspicion deepened.
Of course he would look calm.
He was not the one about to have his organs removed.
Her fingers slowly tightened against the fabric of her dress as the physician stepped closer, and when the man reached for her arm, she immediately moved backward.
The physician paused.
Zelos’s gaze shifted toward her.
Ivelle looked from one man to the other before forcing a nervous smile onto her face.
"I was only wondering something," she began carefully, although the cautious tone of her voice made it obvious that she was attempting to ask a question without sounding as though she was accusing either of them of murder. "What exactly are you planning to do to me?"
The physician’s eyebrows slowly rose.
Zelos remained silent.
That silence immediately made Ivelle regret asking.
The physician glanced toward Zelos, and for a moment she became convinced that the two men were communicating through some secret understanding that she was not intelligent enough to comprehend.
Then the physician looked back at her.
"I am going to examine you."
Ivelle stared at him.
"Examine me?"
"Yes."
Her eyes slowly moved toward the table again.
"With all of that?"
The physician followed her gaze, and understanding gradually appeared on his face.
For several seconds, he simply stared at her.
Then, much to Ivelle’s surprise, the corner of his mouth moved.
Was he trying not to laugh?
Her face immediately warmed.
"I was only asking," she muttered defensively.
Zelos finally spoke.
"You thought he was going to harm you."
Ivelle’s eyes widened.
"I did not say that."
"You didn’t need to."
Her lips pressed together.
Of course he knew.
Zelos seemed to know everything she did not want anyone to know.
The physician gave a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously close to amusement before turning toward the examination table.
"I assure you," he said, his voice considerably calmer than hers, "if Lord Mortum intended to harm you, bringing you to me would be an unnecessarily complicated way of accomplishing it."
Ivelle slowly turned her head toward him cause that was not reassuring.
The physician apparently noticed the effect his words had produced because he sighed and continued, "I mean that I am a physician. My work is to treat injuries."
Ivelle remained suspicious.
"Only injuries?"
The physician stared at her.
"Only injuries."
She nodded slowly, although she did not feel particularly convinced.
Her eyes moved toward Zelos again.
The man had not corrected the physician.
That could mean nothing.
It could also mean everything.
Ivelle immediately decided that she was thinking too much.
Unfortunately, deciding to stop thinking had never actually stopped her from thinking.
The physician gestured toward a padded wooden seat positioned near the wall and instructed her to sit, and after hesitating for several seconds, Ivelle slowly moved toward it. Her body remained tense as she lowered herself onto the seat, and she kept her hands folded carefully in her lap while watching the physician’s every movement as though she expected him to suddenly reveal a hidden knife from beneath his sleeve.
Zelos remained standing nearby.
That did not help.
If anything, his presence made the entire situation stranger because Ivelle could not understand why a man like him was still there. He had already removed her from Blackthorn Row. He had purchased her, or at least pretended to purchase her, and had successfully brought her away without allowing Corvin to ask questions.
Surely his responsibility ended there.
Unless he had brought her here for a reason.
That thought returned.
Ivelle immediately became nervous again.
The physician crouched slightly before her, and when his attention moved toward her legs, her eyes widened.
"What are you doing?"
The man looked up.
"Examining your injury."
Ivelle froze.
"My injury?"
Zelos’s black eyes remained on her.
The physician frowned slightly. "You are injured."
Ivelle’s gaze immediately dropped toward her leg.
The pain had been present for so long that she had almost stopped noticing it properly. Between running through unfamiliar streets, sneaking into Blackthorn Row, stealing a guard’s uniform, walking through underground corridors, and trying desperately not to become someone’s property, she had forced herself to ignore the persistent ache in her leg.
But now that someone had drawn attention to it, she suddenly felt it again.
The soreness.
The weakness.
The occasional sharp pain whenever she placed too much pressure upon it.
Ivelle slowly looked back at Zelos.
How did he know?
She had never told him.
Her eyebrows drew together as she remembered everything that had happened since they met. Had she been limping when she walked beside his carriage? Had she moved differently while descending the stairs? Had he noticed when she stumbled slightly inside Blackthorn Row?
Or had he somehow known before then?
The thought made her stomach tighten.
Zelos noticed her staring.
"What?"
Ivelle immediately looked away.
"Nothing."
"You are making that expression again."
She frowned. "What expression?"
"The one you make when your thoughts become unnecessarily complicated."
Ivelle stared at him.
Her mouth slowly opened but then closed again.
She could not decide whether she was offended because he had somehow noticed her habit or because he was completely correct.
The physician cleared his throat.
"If you two are finished arguing, I would like to examine her leg."
"We were not arguing," Ivelle said immediately.
Zelos said nothing.
That somehow made her sound even more defensive.
The physician reached carefully toward the hem of her dress, and Ivelle immediately stiffened again.
"What?"
"I need to see the injury."
"Oh."
Her face warmed slightly.
Of course.
She awkwardly gathered the fabric of her dress enough for him to examine her lower leg, and the moment the physician’s fingers moved near the injured area, pain immediately shot through her.
Ivelle sucked in a sharp breath.
Zelos’s gaze changed slightly.
It was barely noticeable, but the physician seemed to see it too.
The physician carefully examined the area, his expression becoming more serious as he pressed gently around the injured portion of her leg.
"When did this happen?" he asked.
Ivelle hesitated.
She looked toward Zelos.
Then back at the physician.
"It has been some time."
"That does not answer my question."
Ivelle pressed her lips together.
She did not particularly want to explain her entire life to a stranger.
"I injured it while traveling."
The physician looked unconvinced.
Zelos remained silent.
Ivelle could feel his attention again.
Why was he watching her?
Had he brought her here simply because he had noticed that she was injured?
That possibility seemed almost more confusing than the thought of having her organs removed.
The physician continued examining her leg before finally straightening.
"The injury was not properly treated."
Ivelle lowered her eyes.
"I know."
"You have continued walking on it."
"I had things to do."
The physician looked at her.
"People with injuries often say that."
Ivelle remained silent.
The man moved toward one of the shelves and began selecting several small containers, while Ivelle watched him with considerably more interest now that she understood he was actually planning to help her. He mixed something inside a shallow bowl, adding a thick green paste to a pale liquid before crushing several dried leaves between his fingers and sprinkling them into the mixture.
The smell immediately filled the room.
Ivelle wrinkled her nose.
"What is that?"
"Medicine."
"It smells terrible."
"That does not prevent it from working."
Ivelle glanced toward Zelos.
The man remained completely expressionless.
She wondered whether he was enjoying this.
Perhaps this was his punishment for thinking he was a murderer.
The physician returned to her and carefully applied the mixture around the injured area. The moment the medicine touched her skin, Ivelle’s body stiffened.
It burned.
She grabbed the edge of the seat.
The physician continued working.
"It will sting."
"You could have warned me before putting it on."
"I did."
"No, you said it was medicine."
"Medicine can sting."
Ivelle looked toward Zelos as though expecting him to intervene.
Zelos did not.
Of course he did not.
The physician continued treating her leg while Ivelle endured the uncomfortable burning sensation, and after several moments, he began wrapping a clean bandage around the injury. His movements were careful and practiced, and although Ivelle disliked admitting it, the pain slowly began to lessen beneath the cooling effect of the strange medicine.
When he finished, the physician leaned back slightly.
"You need to rest."
Ivelle immediately shook her head.
"I cannot."
The physician’s expression hardened.
"You will."
"I have to find someone."
Zelos spoke before she could continue.
"You will rest."
Ivelle turned toward him.
The coldness in his voice immediately made her pause.
"I only meant—"
"I know what you meant."
His black eyes rested upon her.
"Rest."