Page 28 of The Last Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #5)

Inside, the sterile smell helped steady her, but only a bit. She followed the signs toward Intensive Care, her footsteps too fast, her breathing uneven. At the nurses’ station, she didn’t hesitate. “I’m Gunther Janssen’s fiancée,” she said, voice steady, face calm, heart hammering like mad.

The nurse glanced at her screen, then gave a small nod. “He’s been moved to a standard room. Fourth floor.”

Relief hit so hard it nearly buckled her knees.

She muttered a quick thank you and practically ran to the elevator, jabbing the button like her life depended on it.

When the doors opened on the fourth floor, she didn’t pause to look around or second-guess, she walked straight to the room number she’d been given.

No one stopped her. No questions. Just the quiet, antiseptic hallway stretching ahead.

She reached his door and froze, her hand hovering just inches from the handle, her breath snagging in her throat. For one aching heartbeat, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Was it real? Was Gunther on the other side of the door? What if it wasn’t him, but a cruel misunderstanding?

Finally, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The air in the room was thick with antiseptic and quiet hums from machines.

Her gaze landed on him, Gunther, lying very still beneath crisp white sheets.

An EKG beeped steadily at his side, wires curling from his chest. An IV snaked into his left arm.

His right was cradled in a sling, propped carefully against the pillows.

The detective had warned her that he was injured, but the reality hit harder than she’d prepared for.

His face was swollen, mottled with deep bruises, his bottom lip split and bloodied.

A swollen black eye was beginning to fade into shades of angry purple and yellow.

She could only imagine what bruises hid beneath the gown, on his ribs, his back, his legs. Her stomach twisted.

She didn’t dare wake him.

Quietly, she sank into the chair beside his bed, her heart aching just looking at him. The minutes stretched, blurred, softened. She didn’t move, just watched the rise and fall of his chest, grounding herself in the rhythm of it.

About an hour had passed when a nurse entered, her smile gentle and knowing. “You must be Aubrey,” she said warmly.

Aubrey nodded, eyes flicking back to Gunther. “Has he been awake at all?”

“Only a bit here and there,” the nurse replied, checking the machines with practiced ease. “But that’s to be expected. He’s on strong pain meds for the bruised ribs, and he had both heart and lung surgery. Your friend was in bad shape when he came in.”

Aubrey blinked rapidly, tears threatening again. She turned away and wiped her cheeks before they could fall.

The nurse gave her a moment, then spoke again, softer now. “He’s making progress, love. Got out of bed today with help, even managed a short walk to the restroom. He’s strong. Healing.”

Aubrey nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Strong. Yes, he was. But right now, he looked so fragile.

And still, he was alive. That, for now, was enough.

The nurse touched Gunther on his left shoulder, jostling him gently.

“Mr. Janssen, you have a visitor. Time for tea.”

His brow furrowed, eyelids fluttering until finally opening. When he noticed her, Gunther seemed to rouse.

The nurse smiled at him. “I’m going to lift you up to a sitting position so you can eat.” The bed began lifting his torso up as he winced and let out soft groan.

“Who is your friend?” the nursed asked a still groggy Gunther.

“Aubrey,” he murmured. “She is here?”

“Yes, she is here.” The nurse motioned for Aubrey to come closer.

Aubrey touched the side of his face. “You will be better soon. I will stay with you.”

When he closed his eyes, the nurse spoke loudly. “No more sleeping. Let’s get you to drink some juice.” She poured juice into a small plastic cup and handed it to Aubrey.

When she brought what looked to be apple juice to his lips, he drank it greedily. The nurse refilled the cup. “He is always thirsty. It’s the medication. Doctor Patel will be weaning him from it over the next two days.”

“I wish to leave,” Gunther said his eyes half open. “I do not need to remain here.”

Aubrey and the nurse exchanged knowing looks. He was barely able to get out of the bed, much less leave the hospital.

After checking Gunther’s vitals, the nurse left, promising that food would be coming soon. They were finally alone.

“I thought you’d died,” Aubrey blurted out in a low tone, so as not to be overheard. “What happened?”

Gunther shook his head, then scanned her face as if memorizing every detail. “I do not know. I thought I had died, then I woke up here.”

Footsteps sounded, but continued past the door. Aubrey leaned closer. “Do you remember anything that can explain how you came to be here?”

“I remember you and Sterling. I was overtaken by…” He stopped, obviously not wishing to bring up the evil that had inhabited him. “Everything went black. I was in so much pain. It was as if something tried to tear me apart.”

Judging by the bruising and swelling, it was not an exaggeration.

He looked about to fall asleep again.

“How do you feel? Other than sleepy?”

“The doctor says I respond strongly to medication. She has had to lower the dose, twice.”

“Probably because you are from another time and have lived in a realm without modern medicine.” Aubrey scanned the machinery, the rhythmic lines of the EKG reassuring.

“Did you know they had to perform surgery in your chest? Gunther, they had to open your rib cage. I am sure that adds to the pain of your bruised ribs.”

Doctor Patel visited after Gunther ate. The pretty Indian woman, who had a serious disposition, introduced herself, asked Gunther how he felt and then reviewed Gunther’s vitals and checked his incision.

“Nurse Macdougall says you are still sleeping too much. If your pain is tolerable, I am lowering the dose once again,” she informed Gunther.

“I am not in too much pain,” Gunther replied, then he coughed and groaned.

Doctor Patel looked at Aubrey. “The rib injuries are probably more painful than the surgery. I have prescribed pain medication that shouldn’t make him so sleepy. We will see.”

“How much longer will he need to stay here?” Aubrey asked. She needed to get Gunther away before they asked too many questions. The stolen wallet excuse would not hold up much longer. They would want to clearly identify him.

“If all goes as it has been, Mr. Janssen should be cleared to leave in two or three days.”

After the doctor left, Aubrey turned her full attention to Gunther.

He looked impossibly out of place in the narrow hospital bed.

This man, who had once stood like a fortress, sword in hand, unshakable.

Now, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile white sheets, he seemed almost too large for the room.

And yet, even battered and bandaged, he hadn’t lost his commanding presence.

Strength still clung to him, something this new world couldn’t strip away.

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his jawline, careful of the bruises.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” she whispered, her voice catching.

“Every day since I came back, I’ve felt like I could barely breathe.

I kept crying for no reason. But now that I know you’re going to recover…

you’re coming home with me, as soon as they let you go. ”

Gunther reached for her hand with his uninjured left, his touch warm, but unsteady. “I do not wish to be a burden,” he said quietly. “I can find somewhere else to stay.”

Aubrey arched both brows. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan to pay for it? I doubt landlords here take payment from another realm.”

He gave a faint, humorless chuckle, then wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, wincing as he moved. “As it happens… I have neither gold nor coin. And I’m fairly certain there is not a single part of me that doesn’t ache.”

When his arm shifted, she caught sight of the deep bruises and angry red gashes along his forearm.

“You’re not a burden, Gunther,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “You’re mine to worry about now. So, get used to it.”

The sun fell, and the view from the hospital room’s window turned from dusk into night.

Aubrey had remained at Gunther’s bedside, not wishing to leave him alone.

But she needed to get rest and return the next day.

She’d texted Erin to inform her of Gunther’s condition and Erin had responded that she and Padriag would come to the hospital with her in the morning.

Gunther was sleeping soundly when she left the room, constantly looking over her shoulder, almost expecting him to disappear.

On the drive home, Aubrey realized she’d not asked Gunther if he sensed any of the darkness. She’d not felt anything, but then again, she didn’t expect it. The only way she’d know for sure was if it manifested.

There were two cars at Ashcraig House when she drove up the circular road and parked. She was much too tired to face another round of questions.

Letting out a long, fortifying breath, Aubrey climbed the steps and entered the house. The aroma of cinnamon and other warm spices greeted her. Someone was baking or making something fragrant. She prayed it was biscuits or sweet bread and not just potpourri.

In the kitchen, Gwen was placing scones onto a plate. “Hi Aubrey. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you would appreciate something yummy after the day you’ve had.”

Gwen seemed to be alone.

“Did you come by yourself?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes, I brought Padriag home so Erin wouldn’t have to drive to the castle.” She smiled brightly. “Their house is making great progress. You must come and see it.”

“Tell me everything,” Erin rushed in, Padriag sauntering behind, a cellphone to his ear.

“There isn’t much to tell. Gunther is heavily medicated, so all I could catch were snippets of information for the few minutes he was awake.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “His injuries must be horrible.”

“That and the doctor says he is very susceptible to the medicine. Apparently they have to keep lowering the dosage.”

Gwen placed a scone on a small plate, slid it to Aubrey and placed a fork next to it. “All of them respond to medication differently than those of us that have lived here in this realm. A simple over-the-counter pain reliever is probably just as strong for them as us being given morphine.”

“I am going to push for them to release him sooner than two days. Him, there in the hospital, will soon bring questions we can’t answer. They’ve already claimed it was difficult to find anything about him from the Netherlands.”

“What about the darkness?” Gwen asked. “Did you ask him about it?”

“I didn’t. But I am certain it is gone. I plan to ask him tomorrow. Are you coming?” She asked Padriag, who’d hung up from his call. It was still strange to see him using modern technology, knowing he was born in the sixteen hundreds.

Padriag nodded. “Yes, I was just speaking to the builder, who expected to speak to me in the morning and told him it would be afternoon before I can be out there.”

“You are going to have to learn to drive yourself soon,” Erin teased.

Gwen held up a hand. “I forgot to tell you that Tristan has finally purchased a car and hired a driver for them. The driver will primarily be used by Padriag. At least until we can figure out a way to get them identities. The lawyer that we trust with the truth is working on it but says it will take time.”

Aubrey spoke next. “I’ve contacted Matt to cover for me at the studio tomorrow and Monday. He is more than willing. I told him I have a sick relative in the hospital, which isn’t much of a stretch.”

They ate the still-warm scones and discussed plans for the upcoming days. Aubrey wondered how she’d sleep that night, knowing that Gunther was in the same realm.