One week later Rose was sitting up in her bed sewing. She had grown so bored that she had begged Brianne to find her any work that she could do. Brianne walked into the room looking tired. She had been up late last night attending to a little boy who had sliced his arm open playing with a dagger.
"Are you well?" Rose asked the healer as she stumbled towards her supplies cupboard.
"Yes, yes. Merely tired. I must check your wounds." Rose had been steadily improving over the last week. Brianne said the chance of the infection growing worse seemed highly unlikely. The Prince had not visited her again, but Rose did not mind for she told herself over and over that he was the Prince and she was a servant.
Rose waited patiently as the healer unwrapped her bandage. Brianne cleaned off the remaining honey and herbs coating the wounds so that they could see the progress better. They both looked down at her stomach. Rose grinned. By now nearly all of the irritated redness had faded. The wounds no longer oozed or had pus. Brianne studied the injuries carefully before murmuring something to herself and nodding. She looked up at Rose, her eyes twinkling, and nodded again.
"I believe the infection is gone," she said. Rose gasped and tried to suppress her urge to celebrate. The relief was so strong, she felt as though she had never been so cheerful. "Your wounds are healing well," the healer continued. "However, they were deep punctures and will take some time to completely close over. I will permit you to return to the castle, but you must come back in three days so that I can remove the last stitches and check your progress. Try not to aggravate the wounds for they will bleed more. You may do only light labor, I do not want you exhausting yourself." Rose nodded her agreement.
"Thank you! I thank you, Brianne, you have been so attentive to me. I cannot ever thank you enough for saving my life." Brianne showed a rare moment of emotion as her expression slipped into a wide smile.
"You are welcome, Rose."
The healer retrieved a new, plain female garment that Rose could wear back to the palace. After having her stomach bandaged again, Rose slipped into the dress, moving carefully and slowly. It felt amazing to be allowed to stand up and walk around longer than only a few minutes. Rose was dressed and ready to leaving within half of an hour. She walked towards the door, nearly skipping with joy. Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she sang as she walked.
Brianne opened the door for her. Rose peered outside and inhaled deeply as the fresh air met her. The sun was shining outside and it warmed her skin with such a pleasant sensation. People were bustling about outside, talking and laughing and even shouting. Rose grinned. She turned around to say goodbye to Brianne. Brianne was standing inside holding the door, she did not make a move to stand outside. Rose watched her for a moment. Brianne was a firm healer who did not show much emotion, but Rose had grown fond of her.
"Farewell, Brianne," Rose said, curtseying as a way to show her gratitude.
"Farewell, Rose. Remember," she called just as Rose was turning to leave. Rose stopped and waited. "No hard labor." She grinned at the healer's final words and nodded.
"I promise."
Rose walked at a gentle pace. She was grateful that the healer was so near to the castle as the walk did not take long. She walked past the main entrance of the castle and headed for the servants entrance out by the side of the castle. Had it only been weeks ago that she had been led here fearing her punishment? Now she was walking freely to the place she called home.
She stepped through the servants entrance and beamed. It felt good to be back here. Some of the servants recognised her and waved or called out greetings, but she was not close friends with any of them. Rose smiled and waved back then continued on her walk. She entered another door, walked down the hall, and then entered the door at the end. She was in the kitchen. The kitchen was mostly empty as the next meal was not for a few hours.
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Bow to the King
Romance"I was starving. Not a soul cared. The nobles and rich do not care for 'dirt-scum' or 'drunk beggars.' Our King is sick and tired. His heir, the Prince, is a pompous, arrogant, self-absorbed fool. At least, I think so. A beggar has no chance at joy...