Turning the Cards of Fate

Chapter 5

He could barely stay still as Doctor Roxbury peeled off the last of the bandages on his stomach. He had finally, finally, healed up enough to no longer need them. It was strange how much better he could breath once the man moved away. It had been two weeks since the, what was the word, conversation with Osred Freine, and almost a month since he had been hurt in the first place.

His neck still needed to stay bandaged, but he really didn't mind that one. This, though, meant more than just being able to breathe. It meant he was free to walk again and try to build back up his muscles. It also meant that his time at the estate was coming to a close. He and Osred, from what he understood, would be leaving in two days. He hoped he would have healed enough to be able to move freely and without pain, but he knew it was an idiotic thought. He knew that he was going to have to fake it until everyone around him believed, which, he knew, would really hurt.

He avoided looking at his stomach, already knowing the scab was starting to shirk to be replaced with shiny scar that would spread over the entirety of the wound soon enough. He had a feeling that this scar would be one of those that would pull open a few more times before it would finally close up. He had several of those, and each was more irritating than the last.

He had been introduced to several more new things in the past weeks, mostly things about politics, which wasn't as interesting as he hoped it would be. He had been mostly left alone, but Vilmos had stopped by a few times to keep him company.

Even if he appreciated the gesture, it wasn't necessary. He was more than content to stay by himself to try to build up strength again.

Doctor Roxbury smiled nervously. "Well, you're looking better. A few more weeks, and your stomach will be healed up completely. I would like you to focus on gaining some weight though. I know you want to get up and start moving around, but please be sure to eat more than you actually want. It makes it easier on your body if you have a bit of muscle and fat. Other than that, your neck looks better, but I wouldn't recommend leaving it uncovered yet. You seem to tear the stitches in that more than your stomach. I know it's hard, but you need to stop moving it so much if you want it to heal."

Cash blinked once. Well duh. He had noticed that a while ago. The thing about Doctor Roxbury was the man had a tendency to state the obvious. He never said anything that Cashel couldn't already infer. The man was a good doctor, of that he was sure, but the man was also extremely nervous around him.

Most of the residence of the estate had long since gotten used to his presence, usually spending his days in the room by the window when he could move. Other than that, he was practically a ghost. He had started to see things that weren't as obvious because no one expected him to be able to understand anything.

Vilmos was the temporary councilman, he thought with a mental smirk. The man, while always trying to visit, looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. The poor man was definitely ready for the next councilman to take over.

But, from what he could tell, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Vilmos had told him a secret, one that could hurt everyone if it ever got out. Vladislav was had ordered the death of several potential councilmen over the years. It wasn't until the man had passed his last birthday before he finally realized that the councilman had passed his prime.

He had known that a few of the other members of the council had probably ordered the same thing, but it was strange thinking that Vladislav had been one of those. He had learned that while the man had grown into the position, like most of the council, this generation, the fourth, were the oldest of all the council. Most of the earlier generations had retired before their sixtieth birthday, which was fairly young considering that Vladislav had only just passed his prime at one hundred and twenty.