Page 8 of Bloom

Jaime had seen a man fall off of his horse after drinking too much. He’d lived with a broken arm.

He’d never seen a horse throw its rider while panicking. Worse, Aleric had an arrow and a spear sticking out of him. Someone had attacked him, and he almost expected men to burst from the woods behind him to finish him off as panic made him jump down from his horse and race toward Aleric. A man shouted to grab Mighty who was covered in froth. Her eyes rolled in terror as she bolted and fortunately didn’t trample Aleric. She raced for a trio of women who scattered on their mounts.

Jaime crouched by Aleric who wasn’t moving. What if he’d snapped his neck? Death couldn’t be reversed by any healing magic. Who attacked him? His eyes scanned the treeline, but he saw nothing.

Lord Monet moved faster than Jaime thought possible since he had trouble with his knees. Jaime was familiar with the fear a Father feels when his son is in mortal danger. He’d seen it before, and Lord Monet made a choked noise. Jaime took Aleric’s arm.

“Aleric!”

“Sit him up,” snapped a man, and Aleric's leg jerked, showing he was still alive and his neck hadn’t snapped.

Whatever happened before, they had to focus on keeping Aleric alive at the moment. He wouldn’t live for much longer if Olivier didn’t heal him. Jaime already had a hold of Aleric’s arm, so he pulled him up into a sitting position while trying to be gentle. Aleric’s head rolled back as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his half-closed eyes stared through Jaime. The coppery scent of blood was thick.

“Aleric. Hang on. He’ll get the spear out.” The tip sticking out his front threatened to bring back memories Jaime didn’t want to remember. He glanced at the woods again, almost expecting to see something.

“G-Gautier did it,” Aleric suddenly mumbled, and his voice was so low, Jaime wasn’t even sure if he’d properly heard him.

“Huh?”

What the fuck? Alexandre, or Lord Gautier as Jaime kept thinking of him, was only a couple of feet away and handing the physician his dagger. There was no way he could have attacked anyone and come around to the main group.

The physician knelt, and his hands were surprisingly steady as he cut open the back of Aleric’s vest and shirt. “Keep him still. I doubt he truly knows what’s going on anymore, and if he tries to move, hold him tight. If he feels the pulling…”

“All right.” Jaime cupped the back of Aleric’s head and tried to keep still despite the awkward positioning.

He couldn’t stop the slight tremble in his limbs, and he wasn’t even sure when it had started. Aleric’s vest and shirt were soaked in blood and beyond repair. If he’d already lost too much, he could die anyway because the body and heart would struggle. He didn’t seem to be conscious anymore and was completely limp as Jaime shifted his positioning so the spear wouldn't poke him.

“Hold him still,” the physician commanded again.

Jaime tried with an arm around Aleric’s lower back. If he let go, he was sure the future lord would tip over since he wasn’t moving or speaking. Lord Monet stood to plant his hands on his son’s shoulders to keep him down.

“Son, hang on. Please. I can’t lose you too.”

Olivier pulled out the arrow and immediately stuck his glowing finger into the wound to seal it. That was one wound dealt with. One more, and Aleric would survive. He was a dick, but he didn't deserve whatever had happened. Outlaws most likely. They wouldn’t dare approach such a large group, and Aleric must have gone off by himself, thinking the area was safe.

Olivier shifted himself to the side, gripped one end of the spear, took a deep breath, and warned them again to hold him still.

The barbed tip of the spear exiting surely tore more flesh, and the coppery scent increased. Aleric twitched with his head limp against Jaime’s shoulder. He jerked almost like he wanted to get up before suddenly letting out a scream of absolute agony.

Jaime grabbed the back of his head to keep him down and tightened his other arm. The sound clawed at his chest. He’d heard similar screams once. Lord Monet squeezed and pushed down on his shoulders as more blood trickled from the back part of the wound, and a man swore from somewhere behind them. The physician dropped the spear, and his hand glowed before he thrust his fingers into the other side to heal it from both ends.

Aleric went limp again and didn’t move anymore. The next few seconds felt like an eternity as Jaime’s heart pounded, and he regretted being a prick to him.

Olivier’s fingers were bloody once he was done. “That’s done. Lay him down.” Olivier’s face might as well have been carved from stone. Despite his healing ability, he had to be worried.

After all, who’d expected this? Aleric was ashen when they laid him down. Sweat and blood made parts of his ruined shirt stick to him.

“Will he be all right?” Lord Monet demanded in a tight voice.

Olivier touched his neck, presumably checking his pulse. “His pulse isn’t good, but he should-”

“You better make sure he lives.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood. I can’t work miracles, m’lord.” His hands glowed as he patted down Aleric’s body and paused wherever he touched. “I don’t think anything is broken.” He let out a shaky breath. “That’s one less thing to worry about, and no snapped ribs will be poking a lung or anything else.

He’d hit the ground pretty hard. At least he could avoid having bruises later too since Olivier touched all over the side he’d landed on. Jaime had only been vaguely aware of a few trying to catch the horse, and someone on the far side of the clearing had caught Mighty’s bridle. Her sides were still heaving, and she looked ready to bolt again. The rest were hovering behind Jaime, and Lord Gautier clapped Lord Monet’s shoulder as he accepted his dagger back.

“He’s a strong, young man. He’ll live. I’m sure of it.”

Lord Monet had broken into a sweat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes off of his son as the physician stood and spoke again.

“Let me get something from my saddlebag. Jaime, you look strong. Pick him up and hold him.”

“Why?”

“Blood loss makes a body cold and increases the strain. It's not good for him to be on the ground.”

“Here. Take my cloak to wrap him.” A man held it out.

Several were talking, and Lord Monet yelled to be heard by everyone while Jaime wrapped Aleric in the cloak. “Who did this?”

Everyone cut off and glanced at each other except for those trying to calm Mighty who didn’t seem keen to have anyone too close.

“It must have been an accident,” a man said as Jaime spread the cloak on the ground so he could lift Aleric onto it.

“An accident?” asked a woman. “Was anyone with him?”

“I think he rode off alone. He usually does for a bit.”

Jaime picked Aleric up. “A stray arrow is one thing. I doubt they’d catch him with a spear too by accident. Not like that. He’d have to be in a big, tangled group. Even then…Someone intended to kill him.”

The truth couldn’t be ignored, and understanding dawned on a few faces. Two men watching the woods looked where Aleric had come from as if they’d see the attacker standing right there.

If it was outlaws, they’d fled. They wouldn’t hang around and attempt to fight so many.

Lord Monet swiped at his forehead. “I want everyone collected. NOW!”

Several of the men hurried off, and a couple of women followed. One man kicked his horse into a gallop and disappeared between the trees. A couple said they'd check the woods where Aleric had ridden from and followed him. A man with black, feathery wings said he’d go overhead. With the thick canopy, Jaime didn’t have much hope. Any outlaws would likely stay under cover as much as possible.

Lord Monet grabbed the spear lying in the grass. The metal tip was coated in blood, and it was rather simple and of decent quality although not quite as fine as some of those carried by the hunting party. No name was carved into the shaft.

Lord Gautier inspected the wicked tip gleamed where Aleric’s blood was drying. “Others hunt in these woods, and who’s to say no outlaws ever pass through? If he went off alone…he likes to hunt alone and see what he can get before meeting back up with us.”

“If he was alone, two or three might have decided he was a good target,” said Jaime. “Aleric needs a weapon to channel his magic like me. That’s not exactly a secret, and if they guessed who he was…”

Lord Gautier pointed at Aleric. A little bit of a gold chain around his neck could be seen. “Gold can be melted down and made unrecognizable. They ruined his clothes, but some outlaws will take anything. Plus, his sword, Mighty, the saddle. His boots are good. The emeralds on his sword would be hard to dig out, but what else does an outlaw have to do? Even if they took nothing else, those emeralds would keep them going for a bit.”

Lord Monet covered his face for a moment. “I want them found. Someone needs to go to the nearest towns and villages and ask about anyone new or suspicious. If Aleric can speak-”

“I’ll tell someone, and I’ll go myself too.” Lord Gautier marched toward those trying to calm Mighty. Someone was trying to remove her saddle, and she wasn’t happy about it.

“Fuck-Pearl would kill me…” Lord Monet muttered.

“It’s not your fault.” Jaime shifted Aleric’s limp body and managed to get his wrist to find a pulse.

“These woods are supposed to be safe. Mostly rabbits. Everyone hunts. Nothing’s ever happened in living memory except for a couple of accidents. This wasn’t an accident.” Lord Monet moved the cloak to better cover Aleric and touched his face. “He’s cold.”

“He still has a pulse.”

Everyone said an area was safe until something unsafe happened.

Olivier approached with a tiny bottle and dripped a few drops of liquid into Aleric’s mouth. “That’ll keep him sedated, and we can take him back in one of the servant’s carts.”

“Why are you sedating him?” asked Jaime. “He’s already out.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood. If he wakes up, he’ll likely be agitated-”

“If he wakes up, he can tell us who attacked him, and I’ll make sure they’re found,” said Lord Monet. “I want the fuckers to hang, and I know he will too.”

Olivier corked the bottle. “Lord Monet, I understand. It’s best if he remains asleep for a while. When someone loses a lot of blood, the heart works harder to beat and keep what’s left flowing through his body. If you agitate him and force him to remember everything so soon after he comes around, minutes after the actual injury, his heart will only struggle more. I’m not risking it so quickly after he’s been healed.”

Lord Gautier shouted from across the clearing and jogged over while wearing a single glove. “There’s something on the horse’s back.”

“Eh?”

“They took off Mighty’s saddle, and there’s some sort of-” Lord Gautier grimaced and touched his forefinger and thumb together. The substance had a faint milky tint and was rather thin. “Mighty’s sweaty. A horse’s back doesn’t sweat like this. This is…”

Olivier leaned over. “You didn’t touch it with your bare hands, right?”

“No! Obviously not!”

“What is that?” demanded Lord Monet.

“This was under the blanket and saddle.” Lord Gautier held out his hand. “We couldn’t see it until it was removed. The entirety of her back is covered. Nobody knows what it is.”

Jaime held Aleric tighter. He hadn’t been attacked by common outlaws.

Olivier took Lord Gautier’s wrist to hold his hand still and brought his face close to smell the substance. “It barely has any odor. Whatever it is, I don’t recognize it. Perhaps it’s a form of sap.”

“The stableboy,” said Jaime. “The one taking care of the horses. He must know. If something was hidden under her blanket and saddle, it wasn't random outlaws. This was planned and not a stroke of bad luck.”

Outlaws taking the risk to rob a lone higher-up and hauling ass once they realized they wouldn’t succeed was one thing. Aleric’s attack combined with the back of Mighty smeared in a strange substance was another. She’d been panicking, which hadn’t seemed too strange. A horse not intended for war might not do well when forced to run from actual danger.

Lord Monet’s face darkened. “Go to camp, find Andy, and don’t you dare let him leave.”

Jaime hadn’t paid much attention to the boy who’d looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. If someone had been working with a Castle employee…fuck…

The rest of the courtiers straggled back in. Clearly, someone had told Zacharie the gist of what happened, and he looked quite panicked at the sight of his brother when he guided his horse over.

“What are you doing to him?” he demanded as if Jaime was harming Aleric.

“I’m trying to keep him warm. He lost a lot of blood.”

Lord Monet wanted to know if anyone had seen other hunters around who weren’t a part of their party. Had they seen or heard anything? The answer was no. Not a single other hunter had been spotted, and nothing out of the ordinary had been noticed. Several had rabbits, evidence of their hunting, and nobody who’d come with a spear was missing their weapon.

Nobody knew what the substance was either, and it was agreed that it had made Mighty panic since Olivier said it could be a skin irritant. Nobody had seen Andy doing anything odd, but it wasn’t like they’d been paying attention to him earlier.

It was obvious the attack had been planned, and everyone whispered. One of those who’d gone into the forest found Aleric’s dropped sword. The rest came back, and no one had seen a thing out of the ordinary.

Olivier had brought a few things in his saddlebags on the off chance that something happened. He hadn’t brought any glass vials or containers, so he told a courtier to empty his waterskin. The medicine he’d sedated Aleric with was poured inside, and with a glass bottle available, he used a knife to scrape off some of the mystery substance to collect.

Mighty had been calmed enough to stand, although she didn’t seem well. A couple of courtiers poured water over her back in an attempt to clean her. Jaime wasn’t sure if that would work since she looked pained despite not panicking.

Olivier returned while holding up the bottle to look at the milky fluid he’d scraped on the inside edge. “If it’s an irritant, it’s possible it reacts with sweat. That’s why Mighty was fine at first.”

The day was quite warm, and under the blanket and saddle, the horse would surely sweat a little. Aleric’s weight hadn’t helped with the poison being further ground into her back through her hair.

“So…someone was hoping Aleric’s horse would panic and throw him,” Jaime said in a low voice. “It’d be easier to deal with him if so.”

Olivier glanced at him and the courtiers around the clearing who couldn’t shut up for even a second. Zacharie didn’t look like such a brat as he stood by his Father and stared at the ground. “I’d think so, but keep any thoughts to yourself. We don’t know who’s responsible.”

Had Aleric meant to say another name? Or had he mixed up something in his head because he’d been on the verge of passing out? Damn it. They wouldn’t know until he woke up.

Lord Monet took Aleric once he was seated on his horse. Considering how deathly ill he looked, Jaime kept expecting Lord Monet to suddenly realize he was dead.

One of the lords led the way, and Lord Monet's horse followed with barely any urging. Someone led Mighty. A lady asked if it was safe. What if someone was waiting to attack them? A man snapped that they had no choice but to return to camp, and if anyone wanted to kill them all, they’d better have an enormous group.

Unfortunately, when they returned, Lord Gautier wasn’t there. Most of the servants panicked at the sight of the lord’s son who appeared dead and was leaning against his Father who was holding him up. Lord Monet got one to say what had happened.

“We thought Andy went into the woods to squat. He didn’t come back, and we noticed he was taking an awfully long ti-”

“He’s gone?!”

The servant quailed. “I guess. Lord Gautier-”

At that moment, Lord Gautier came flying out of the woods opposite the way they’d come, and he’d slowed his horse to go around a tent.

“Where’s Andy?”

Lord Gautier scowled as he walked his horse closer. “He’s gone. A servant said he went that way supposedly to squat. I looked, but there was no trail. No footprints. Nothing. The little shit’s gone, and he’s covered his tracks. He must have spread that…whatever it is. He put it on the horse’s back and left. Someone specifically planned to kill Aleric.”

Silence reigned over the entire camp. Everyone has suspected. To hear the words and know that a suspect had vanished was different. Nobody could wring the truth from Andy. Jaime was sure that by the time they made it back to the Castle, several would already be suspicious of others. Whoever had paid them and Andy might be among them.

Lord Monet sent five men and Lord Gautier into the woods to find Andy. A couple were out and looking for a trail around where Aleric had been. If Andy was on foot, hopefully, he wouldn’t get too far. Jaime was thinking someone might have been waiting on horseback to fetch him. Aleric needed to wake up and tell them who attacked him.

A few of the men searched around the camp in case Andy had left gloves or anything suspicious around. They found nothing. Unfortunately, Andy had been smart.

One of the carts was used for Aleric, and Olivier rode in the back with him. Mighty didn’t fight as she was led along, and they’d tried to wash her back a bit better.

Jaime had never seen a horse look so dejected. Whatever had been used might have been wearing off on its own since she wasn’t panicking. The servants would follow after breaking down the camp since Lord Monet wasn’t waiting for them.

The plan had done enough damage even though it hadn’t fully worked. Aleric wasn’t supposed to have reached them. As Jaime followed the cart on his horse, he kept glancing around although attacking such a large party would be folly unless it was a big group.

Jaime tried to think back. He hadn’t seen one damn thing out of the ordinary earlier. He should have saddled Aleric’s horse and gone with him. They weren’t best pals, but if they’d stuck together, he wouldn’t be near death in the back of the cart.

It was enough to make him feel almost as helpless as the night when he’d been seven.

When they made it back, Aleric was carried upstairs. Whatever Olivier had given him must have been strong since he didn’t twitch when lifted him out of the cart. Lord Monet followed them all of the way upstairs on his stiff knees, and only he accompanied Olivier into the bedroom.

Jaime chased out a couple of courtiers who’d tagged along and sat on the couch since he had nothing else to do. He got up to pace after a few seconds. The lord and physician would likely clean Aleric and dress him in sleep clothes. Questions buzzed around his mind as he waited. After a while, Olivier opened the door.

“If he wakes up and wants an extra blanket, give it to him. Try to keep him calm if he seems frightened or angry. If he says anything odd…just ignore it. People can be quite strange when they come around with no memory of how they got there. He might seem off, so don’t worry. It hasn’t been that long.”

“All right.”

“I’ll be back.” Olivier made to leave and quickly poked his head back into the bedroom. “If he wakes, give him water too. He needs liquid to replenish blood.”

Olivier hurried out with barely a look in Jaime’s direction. As soon as the sitting room door closed, Jaime slipped through the partially open bedroom door. Aleric was in bed with the blankets pulled up. An extra clean sheet had been laid underneath him, and his Father sat on the edge of the bed. His shirt was different, so he must have borrowed one of Aleric’s.

Jaime wasn’t sure how a man should look after surviving a bloody wound. If he didn’t know what had happened and walked in, he might have assumed him to be dead.

Lord Monet heard him and glanced over his shoulder. “Do you stay in here?”

“I sleep on the couch. Erm…do you have enemies?”

Lord Monet shifted a little as he came around. “That’s a rather bold question.”

Before, Jaime could have asked a lord any question his young mind thought of, and no one would look at him like he’d overstepped his boundaries. Then again, treason hadn’t been on his mind back then, and he remembered a couple of lords and ladies patting his head with a chuckle after a statement or question.

“You’re so cute. What will you think of next, Jaime?”

Lord Monet shook his head. “If I have any enemies, they’re unknown to me except for a stableboy named Andy and a man who attacked my son. Or a few. If it had been one, Aleric might have managed to kill him. Beyond Andy, I have no names or faces, and no idea who must have paid him. I’ve never made any real enemies or had trouble in my court. Killing Aleric because he gets a bit…irritated doesn’t make sense either.

True, and two would be a stretch. Three was good because a trio could get through the woods on their own without attracting too much attention, and against one, they’d have better odds. While on the run, watches at night would also be shorter with three to share the work because they wouldn't be able to all relax until they had several days between them and any men searching. Four would work too.

Aleric had said Gautier did it when Jaime grabbed him, and he’d shrugged it off. Gautier hadn’t been chasing him, and why would he arrange for anything? It didn’t make sense, and a man who was on the verge of passing out from blood loss and pain might babble anything.

Besides that, whoever tried to kill Aleric surely didn’t stop to have a chat beforehand. How would he know if Gautier had hired anyone? And if Aleric did know he was responsible for something, wouldn’t he have known beforehand and stayed home? Wouldn’t he have said something?

Then again Gautier was with a man who’d be the next lord if Aleric was gone. Jaime was tempted to bring it up, but it might offend Lord Monet, and truly, he shouldn’t jump to wild conclusions and open his damn mouth without thinking. He was too new, and he barely knew shit about anyone in the Castle. If he blabbed because Aleric hadn’t been thinking straight, he might cause trouble. The situation was too serious.

“You were talking to a few of the courtiers earlier,” said Jaime. “What did they say?”

“Aleric was at the rear of the group. A couple of cousins said he went alone, and that’s it. He’s not the best at archery, and he’s never been with a good spear. Before, he’s always had a couple of rabbits when he caught up.”

“How is he with a sword?”

“He’s excellent.”

“So he didn’t try to get his attackers with an arrow,” Jaime said as he watched Aleric. “Mighty was in pain, and a pained horse will flee. Olivier said it might have been sweat that reacted with the substance and irritated her skin. It was planned. It didn’t get on her by itself.”

Lord Monet closed his eyes for a second. “I’m aware, er, Jaime.”

“I’m sorry, m’lord. I’m just trying to organize my thoughts. It doesn’t seem like anyone attacked him with magic.”

“Healers. Or perhaps they're channelers like Aleric.”

“If not, they were afraid fire or lightning might catch a tree or brush on fire and create smoke. That’d be a blatant sign they’d been there. They must have known Aleric can only channel his magic.”

Lord Monet had guessed all that too. He’d had the same amount of time to think on the ride.

Jaime took a deep breath. What if Alerif hadn’t blurted nonsense pulled from thin air due to his initial injury? Gautier said Aleric was jealous, and it was clear the future lord didn’t like Gautier. “If anything has been going on-”

“My son didn’t bring you here knowing any danger was afoot.” Lord Monet. “Olivier’s giving a message to the Commander of the guardhouse. He’ll select men from the grounds and the city to go out. They’ll scour the woods for any sign including the local areas.”

“They don’t know who they’re looking for besides Andy.”

“Once Aleric says what happened, I can send out a messenger to follow after them and pass it along. Anyone suspicious in the area can be investigated. If they had wings or anything Aleric remembers, that’ll help. Whatever happened, we’ll deal with it.”

“How long has Andy been here?”

“About…a month. You’ve been here for…two days?” Lord Monet tightened his lips.

Jaime’s face burned at the insinuation that he had something to do with it. What the fuck?

“You left him alone.”

Jaime’s mouth dropped. “I left him because he said I could hunt if I wanted, not that I’m very good at it. He didn't need me to do anything in particular.”

He’d mostly lagged after the others while trying to stay close enough to not lose them but not so close that he’d get in the way. Going after rabbits and getting mixed up in the fray with others all trying to do the same wasn’t something he was used to. He wasn’t like Aleric who’d grown up learning how to hunt in parties or alone.

Lord Monet was still watching him.

“He told me I could, and I didn’t have to be pasted to his hip.” For fuck’s sake, if he was suspected, he wouldn’t be very safe anymore. A Father afraid for his son’s life might grow suspicious of any new faces and decide to get rid of him.

“Slave or aid, you’re not exactly here completely of your own free will.”

“Your son can be a prick, and he’s not my favorite person. I still wouldn’t try to kill him, and how would I put together a plot in two days? I barely know anyone in C?te.”

Lord Monet looked away with an almost ashamed expression. “I don’t know who’s responsible at this point.”

Jaime bit his tongue to keep from saying anything too nasty before he went to the sitting room to flop on the couch. Fuck. Once Aleric woke up and was on the mend, hopefully, Lord Monet would stop being suspicious of him.

Even better, maybe the responsible ones would be found.

Jaime caught Aleric’s voice in the bedroom, and he got on his knees to lean over the back of the couch and listen. He couldn’t make out what was said, and he figured screw it.

He went into the bedroom. Aleric, who didn’t look much better, held up three fingers as his Father set down the water glass. Olivier entered the sitting room at that moment and excused himself past Jaime.

“What did they look like?” asked Lord Monet.

“...covered their faces. Grey clothes.”

“Was there anything to make them stand out? Anything the guards could look for?”

“No. Plain horses. Good ones. One could channel. The sw-sword…sword was plain.”

Lord Monet, who had been leaning over his son, straightened up and swore.

Considering Aleric wasn’t saying anything about Gautier now, maybe he hadn’t known what he was telling Jaime earlier. He’d mumbled nonsense. It was also possible that Jaime, distracted by the spear sticking through Aleric’s front, had completely misheard him.

“I’m sure they’ll find something,” Olivier muttered. “Three new men in an area?”

“Or they might vanish,” snapped Lord Monet. “They could split up too. One new man in an area is nothing worth noting.”

“I don’t feel good,” Aleric mumbled.

“You lost a lot of blood,” said Olivier. “I need you to drink this to help replenish it. There’s honey in it too because you need the sugar.”

Aleric’s eyes flicked to the small bottle, although he seemed to be having trouble focusing on it. “No.”

“It won’t taste bad.” Olivier uncorked it.

“Get it away from me.”

“You have to take it right now.”

“Maybe we should give him a few minutes,” said Lord Monet. “He’s not feeling well.”

“Of course, he’s not.” Olivier lifted a hand. “You wouldn’t feel great either after having an arrow and a spear in your back.”

“I mean, we can let him rest for a couple of minutes.”

“The sooner he drinks it, the better,” said Olivier. “If it was you, Lord Monet, I’d be pouring it in your mouth right now. Blood loss is no joke.”

Lord Monet sighed. “Fine. Aleric, I’ll help you sit up a bit. Can you manage that?”

“I’m not drinking anything.”

“You need it. Your shirt and vest were soaked with blood. You’re not going to be entirely better overnight, and-”

“I’m not taking it.” Aleric’s eyes suddenly found Jaime awkwardly hovering in the doorway before he backed away. He probably didn’t want an audience.

Jaime closed the door and went to sit on the couch while the other two spoke. He wasn’t able to tell what they were saying. Aleric swore at them before it cut off. Olivier’s faint voice reached Jaime again, and he was pretty sure he heard the word “swallow” after several seconds.

Considering what happened earlier, no wonder Aleric was agitated. The silence ended with Aleric’s faint, “Fuck you!”

“For Elira’s sake.” Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose. A man who acts like the physician is killing him can be quite difficult to deal with. He had a feeling they’d held him down and forced him to swallow the medicine, and he’d be even more irritated now.

Hopefully, in the morning, he’d have more sense.

***

Jaime slept fitfully on the couch that night and kept getting up to check on Aleric. Lord Monet had pulled in the other armchair, and with the one in the corner, he’d made himself a bed by the window. It didn’t look very comfortable since he was half sitting up against the decorative pillows he’d borrowed, and armchairs don’t make good beds to start with.

Aleric looked worse in Jaime’s opinion. He kept that to himself since no one seemed to have any new concerns. Lord Monet fell asleep around midnight. By one, Aleric was still asleep and quite pale. Shouldn’t his color be a little better? Olivier hadn’t seemed to think Aleric was in true danger. Medicine and rest would help. Jaime told himself he was worrying too much because he didn’t know shit about how to deal with the aftermath of a serious injury when so much blood was lost.

Around three, Lord Monet was snoring gently, and Aleric seemed partly awake when Jaime shuffled in to check on him again. In the dim light of the lantern, he caught the sheen of sweat on Aleric’s forehead. His lips moved slightly, and fear flashed in his eyes as Jaime came around the bed.

“What?” Jaime whispered so as to not bother Lord Monet. “Are you too hot?” The blanket was pulled up to his neck, and Jaime tugged it down just a little to give him some air, but not enough to chill him.

Aleric didn’t say anything, and it was hard to tell if he was truly seeing Jaime. What if something else was wrong?

Jaime crouched and brought his face closer. “Do you want me to get the physician?”

Aleric’s eyes stared ahead for several seconds before his lips moved again. Jaime was pretty sure he meant to say no.

“Do you want me to get Olivier?” Jaime asked again.

He heard it that time. The faint “no.”

“Do you want me to help you drink some water? I think you should.”

“No.”

Jaime bit his tongue. Some people grew cranky as fuck when they were ill or injured. His earlier refusal of medicine and now water was likely because of his condition, and the sedative had to be making him feel out of it. He’d also been through something quite terrifying. If Jaime forced him, he’d end up more stressed and angry. In a few hours, he’d hopefully be a little better and ready to have a drink. More sleep might do him good, and he could have a small meal in the morning.

Jaime hunched down by the side of the bed and slipped a hand underneath the blanket. It was a bit forward, but he remembered someone holding his hand after…he didn’t want to think about that. It had helped even though it had been quite furry and unusual to him.

He found Aleric’s limp hand to hold. Even pricks need comfort once in a while. He could pretend it never happened later, and if he wanted to yell at Jaime…whatever. Aleric didn’t move as Jaime rested his head on the mattress, although he intended to stay awake and ask again in a few minutes if Aleric would drink water.