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“Your mum’s used all over the Tiendoms,” said Leofric.

Osric twirled a knife.

There was the flash of Fairhrim’s tacn and a shiver in the air as she pushed her seith into the wounded nipple. Fairhrim’s expression was impassive, but Osric knew her enough to read the pinch of her nostrils: how dare yet another idiot Fyren make her waste her seith?

“D’you have any plans to host a clinic on bollocks?” asked Leofric.

Fairhrim, bless her, was a champion of composure. “No. You should go to a physicker.” She placed a bandage over Leofric’s nipple. “Done. The skin is still new, so mind you don’t mess about with clamps again for at least a week. And for Woden’s sake, sterilise them before use. This bottle contains a course of antibiotics; take one a day until they’ve run out.”

Leofric took the pills. “Will these give me an erection lasting longer than four hours?”

“No.”

“Will you give my nip a little kissie to make sure it’s all better?”

Fairhrim’s tolerance for nonsense was never high to begin with, but it hit a new low. The ambient air temperature dropped as she stared at Leofric.

Leofric twitched his pec at her in a hopeful sort of way.

“Leave, or I’ll undo it all, and remove your other nipple besides,” said Fairhrim.

“Ouch,” said Leofric.

Fairhrim, in a flurry of efficient gestures, gathered up Leofric’s clothes and pushed them into his arms. “Be quick about dressing. I’ve got another patient to attend to. Goodbye.”

Fairhrim strode into the back room again. Osric saw her summon her deofol, who materialised and listened attentively as she went through cabinets and made a list of supplies to replenish the clinic’s inventory: “We’re low on dextrose gel, indigestion tablets, suture packs, swab sticks…”

“That sphygmomanometer looks positively ancient,” said the deofol. “Should we ask to have it replaced?”

“Add it to the list, though I doubt they’ll approve,” said Fairhrim. “And, while we’re dreaming, a new trolley—this one’s only got one functioning wheel.”

The deofol’s pointy head turned towards Osric and Leofric. “I see we’ve gathered all the contraception in one place.”

Fairhrim turned her cold gaze towards them, too. “I do like to be organised.”

Osric glowered. Leofric was too stupid to be offended. Fairhrim shut the door with a snap.

“I like her,” said Leofric as he dressed.

“I don’t think it’s mutual,” said Osric.

“No? I feel like we’ve got a connection,” said Leofric. “Anyway, I don’t care what you think—you know nothing about finer feelings.”

“And I suppose you’re an expert?”

“More than you,” said Leofric. “I’ve never met a Haelan before. She wasn’t that bad, honestly, was she? Bit prim, but that’s to be expected; they’ve all got bargepoles up their arses. She didn’t judge me in the slightest for the nipple clamps. Shall I wait for you? D’you want me to hold your hand while she diddles your nipple?”

“No.”

“All right. I’m off, then. Got a barrister to murder.” Leofric turned to the back-room door, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Farewell, sweet Haelan; we could never be.”

Fairhrim did not respond.

Leofric left.

Fairhrim emerged from the back room looking as aghast as her features permitted. “Well, that was traumatising.”

“Obscene,” said her deofol, before disappearing on his errand in a puff of white.