Duty Bound

Chapter 7

 Amy stood in front of the mirror, bathed in the light spilling through the window. She began to unbutton her coat, fingers trembling. This time, it was no longer because of hunger and thirst. She was afraid to see what had been done to her body.

Back in the Palace of Justice, she'd been unable to see her wounds. She had only felt them. She dropped her coat on the floor and pulled her sweater off. There was only one final layer to go, then there was the thick layer of bandages to work through. She'd been swathed in enough gauze to make a mummy.

She peeled off her shirt and had to take a moment to prepare herself before she could begin to work on the gauze. She knew her wounds wouldn't have had time to fully heal. With all the stitches, she knew she would look a fright. It'll look better with time, she told herself. She mustn't let herself be discouraged by the way her body looked now.

As the bandages came off, she saw that there were splotches of red that had seeped through. Probably a result of the day's exertions. A few moments later, the bloody bandages were lying at her feet, and she finally saw her ruined torso.

The blood drained out of her face. It was so much worse than she could ever have imagined. Her smooth skin had been turned into a canvas of raw meat. Gashes were crisscrossed all over her stomach and back, all blending together into a horrible maze. The stitches holding the wounds shut had been done crudely, and there was blood still seeping out. Every time she moved, the wounds seemed to squirm, all moving together like they had a mind of their own.

Her hands rose to her mouth to stifle her sobs. The hate that now filled her felt like it was too big to contain. Her brother had ordered this. If she ever got the chance, she would have him strung up in the same dungeon, have him experience all that she had, knife stroke for knife stroke, until he begged for death.

"I've been sent to help you undress, princess!" a female voice called through the door.

Before Amy could hide, the door opened, and a matronly-looking woman came bustling in with a pile of clothes in her hands.

"Sweet lord preserve us!" she cried when she saw her, dropping everything on the floor. Her hand fluttered to her chest, and the look on her face was of the purest horror.

"Shut the door!" Amy cried.

The woman seemed to remember herself.

"Of course, your highness," she said, picked up the clothes she'd dropped, and closed the door, making sure to lock it.

"I'll need the ship's surgeon to attend to me," she said, doing her best to retain a commanding tone of voice.

The woman cleared her throat, placed the clothes on the bed, and straightened up.

"You're in luck. I happen to be the Evangeline's doctor," she explained.

"In that case, that wasn't very professional of you," Amy said, frowning.

"If you'll pardon me, your highness, you simply caught me by surprise. The last thing I was expecting was to walk in and find you in such a state."

Amy didn't say any more. The lump that had risen in her throat was substantial, and she feared that if she tried to speak, she'd break down into tears.

"If you will allow me to examine you, I will determine the best course of action," the woman approached her. "I was a nurse in the army for many years. Did all the work of a surgeon for a quarter of the pay, and still had to make the gruel."

Amy stayed still while the woman examined her.

"What's your name?" she asked, clearing her throat.

"Harriet Lamb, your highness," she said. "Most people on the Evangeline call me Harry."

"I'll call you Ms. Lamb, I think," Amy decided.

"As you wish," Ms. Lamb said. "I'll need to disinfect these wounds and change your bandages. I'll also prepare a tonic for the pain."

Amy nodded, and Ms. Lamb disappeared down the hall, leaving her alone again. She looked in the mirror again, but the damage looked no better once she'd gotten more used to it. Even a woman who had treated the war wounded had been horrified.

She gritted her teeth. She refused to cry. She'd cried enough in the Palace of Justice. It was pointless to do it now that she was safe.

What she needed to do now was figure out what to do next. As happy as she was to be reunited with her uncle, she had no intention of staying on the Evangeline long. She'd regain her strength, and then she'd find a way to get to the Crown Court.

When Ms. Lamb returned, she had a medical bag and a glass of water.

"Drink this," she told the princess. "It'll take some of the pain away."

Amy drank it down without hesitation. It didn't take long to take effect. Within minutes, the stinging agony of her wounds was reduced to a low heat. Ms. Lamb was exceptionally gentle with her. She spent the better part of an hour cleaning her wounds before she finally wrapped her in fresh gauze.

"You'd better go to sleep, your highness. Get some of your strength back," she suggested once she had finished. "Your uncle has quite a dinner planned for tonight, if you feel up to it, although I do not recommend that you exert yourself."

"No, I will be down to dine with him," Amy drawled. "Thank you."

She crawled into the bed and was asleep before Ms. Lamb had finished packing up her supplies. Whatever she'd put in that tonic, it felt magical.