Desiderium

þridda

Benjamin had barely stepped foot into the chamber when his eyes immediately landed upon an erect figure standing before Emilia's bed. They lingered on the silver armor adorning the man, noting the symbol of a gargoyle coated in red at his chest.

A knight.

His eyes shifted upwards, fixating on the man's hair. It was a light blond, nearly white, and hanging loose around his neck. This was not just any knight of the realm, Benjamin realized. This was the legendary warrior known as Sir Thomas St. Clair; the one said to be so fearsome in battle he sent his enemies cowering.

Emilia's betrothed.

"Sir, excuse me. I did not mean to intrude." The plague doctor dipped his head.

St. Clair turned from the bedridden woman to the masked man, studying Benjamin with obvious suspicion. "And who might you be?"

"Benjamin Peters," he sneered, disliking the arrogance in the man's voice.

"He is tending to me," Emilia confirmed with a smile.

"Oh, you are the physician?" Thomas never took his blue eyes off the other man.

"The physician's assistant." He remained still in the doorway, standing erect in his own right.

"Assistant?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, turning back to Emilia. "Where is the physician?"

"Away." Benjamin took a step closer, not allowing the woman to answer for him. He could explain himself just fine. He needed no one to come to his defense, especially not her.

But it seemed nothing would stand between Emilia and her almost perverse need to describe how he had been caring for her. "He has done well. He has been kind and never once has made me feel uncomfortable."

Thomas nodded slowly, switching his gaze to Benjamin. "I am pleased to hear this. I expect she will make a full recovery then?"

"Yes." He looked to Emilia and wished she could see the certainty in his eyes. He hoped his tone conveyed it in place of his hidden eyes.

A satisfied grin came upon Thomas's mouth, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "Excellent. The Crown shall reward you handsomely for this."

Benjamin shook his head fervently. "Oh, no. That is not necessary–"

"Nonsense." The knight waved his gauntlet, causing the armor to rattle. "The Crown rewards those who prove to be successful. And perhaps you will even earn the title of a doctor for doing so."

Yes, but they also behead those who do not.

As much as he wanted to say these thoughts, he opted for a more polite answer.

"Thank you, sir. I swear I will heal her." Benjamin knew he should not have made such a promise, knowing what awaited him if he failed. But what else could he say? The smug bastard expected such a response for that exact reason.

Evidently pleased with this interaction, Thomas glanced down at the woman and bid her goodbye. "I shall see you soon, my love."

"Oh, must you go?" Emilia sighed. "You have ridden into every other battle. Can you not stay back just this once?"

Thomas gave her a soft smile. "How I wish I could, but the king expects me to lead this charge."

"If only I could touch you then," she breathed, motioning with her hand to caress his pale skin. "And bid you a proper farewell."

"Soon, Emilia," he promised. "Very soon."

From under his mask, Benjamin watched the scene with impatient disgust. Why could the man not just leave already? He had already taken up precious time away from him and his patient.