Rookery ~ Assassin's Creed Syndicate

Chapter Thirty Six

"So, Martin, what is this? In English." I showed him a crude drawing of an apple.

"An apple..?" I nodded and held up another picture. This had been going on for an hour now while I tried to teach him a few simple words and vocabulary. Of course, I was beginning to get annoyed when he couldn't figure something out, but I knew this was difficult for him, just as it had been for me to learn French.

After two hours, I set the pictures down and began to work on his phrases. Things like, 'good evening', 'how are you?', and 'what is your name?'. This took less work, for whatever strange reason, and he had those phrases memorised in less than half an hour. I told him to walk around and use them on the English housemaids, since he had hired them and then had them tutored in French. While he strolled around, I fiddled with the dressing under my sleeve. It was starting to become irritated and I needed to check it. I knew I could leave for a washroom until Martin got back. The housemaid at the door smiled at me. She was English and had been the first one to answer Martin's questions. The blonde bowed slightly when she saw my eyes on her.

"Did you need something, Miss?" I shook my head.

"No, thank you. That's quite alright. My arm just hurts a little bit."

"Would you like me to call for a doctor?" I tapped my chin.

"Yes, actually. Thank you. Oh, and I would rather you didn't inform Martin of the doctor's visit."

"Of course, Miss." She scuttled off to a separate wing of the manor. Clearly, Martin was wealthy enough to have doctors live on site in case of sudden illness.

Martin returned and I took my leave, telling him to find me at my room when he was ready to go to the play. I slowly clopped up the stairs in my heeled boots. The door to my room was already open, the doctor sitting inside at my desk. I smiled to him.

"Hello, Miss Faraday. I am Doctor Harrison. What is it that you need help with?" His hair was grey and his face had been patterned softly with wrinkles and freckles. His round glasses perched on the end of his nose. I carefully shut my door and locked it.

"I received an injury to my arm a few days ago and it is becoming irritated. I fear it may be infected." He hummed in response.

"Well, if you would remove your cardigan so that I can have access to this wound." I stood in front of him and took of my little jacket. I hung it on the hook hanging from the wall. Doctor Harrison began to peel away the dressing, causing me some discomfort. "Ah, I can see the issue already. Your skin is attempting to heal over these stiches. It is easily resolved. I just need to remove them. You may find it easier to sit on the ground and I will hold your wrist up as I take the sutures out."

He reached into a bag and removed some small scissors and a pair of tweezers. He snipped the knot off of the end then doubled the string back on itself, pulling it out loop by loop. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable. It felt like a splinter being removed from your skin, but over and over again. Miss Nightingale had only looped the string over six times, but the procedure to get rid of it still took a while. When it was finished, however, the doctor gave me a different bottle of ointment which would aid in recovery. I thanked him after he wrapped it and I slipped my cardigan back on. The soft, pink material made it somewhat easier to move my arms than the dresses I owned with sleeves. The dress I wore now was red with gold and black details. Flower patterns scaled up the bodice of the gown in the black thread. Honestly, I liked the dress, despite the fact that I usually hated all dresses in general. Perhaps something was changing. No, Carina, nothing was changing. I was an assassin, and assassins do not wear dresses or fancy suits or tall heels.