Desiderium

Fēorða

Songbirds chirped from amongst the trees, filling the air with their sweet and mirthful tune. Sunlight radiated from the opened window, warming the room with summer heat and illuming it in gold rather than its usual gray.

It was by the window where Benjamin found her, smiling to herself as she gazed out of it.

"I see you are in a joyful mood," He set his bag down. "How do you feel?"

"I have never felt better." Her smile broadened as she turned to him.

Benjamin's eyes went to a piece of parchment gripped in her hand. "I can see you are gaining your strength back."

"Yes. I can stand for longer periods now." Emilia nodded. She must have felt the weight of his lingering gaze– even though it was impossible–because she tucked the paper behind her back.

This made him only more curious about what its contents were.

"My lady, I have brought herbs for your wounds." He opened his bag and pulled out a jar. "I made it specifically for you."

"It will not sting, will it?" Whatever trace of a smile had vanished, being replaced with a shadow of fear.

"You bore bloodletting and prodding, yet a simple sting is what scares you?" Even Benjamin could not help but chuckle, something he rarely did.

Emilia sighed, letting her smile return. "I suppose you are right. I have managed worse."

"I will fetch a servant to bring a tub filled with cold water. It will help with the stinging."

He found the same servant loitering not too far from the room. However, this time she did not startle at his appearance. Pity, he rather enjoyed people flinching at his costume.

Holding the door open for the slew of servants, Benjamin followed in behind them, watching as they set the tub on the floor.

"Do you mind if I am in here?" he asked, noticing that Emilia had placed the paper on her bed. "I will turn around when you undress."

"I am not fazed by your presence at this point," she answered. "You have seen nearly everything." She fell silent and Benjamin turned to see that she had shocked herself.

"Forgive me, that was not a very appropriate thought." Emilia lowered her head. "Especially for a lady."

No, it was not. Even though it was the truth, he had seen her bare before.

"You are forgiven." He waved his fingers in dismissal. "Disrobe and step into the tub." He faced away from Emilia and stretched his neck towards the bed. Glancing over his shoulder, Benjamin caught a glimpse of her bare back and inched his way forward towards the object of his interest.

It was a letter addressed to Emilia. And it was quite intimate. It detailed a tryst, one that had been occurring for quite some time.

Benjamin skipped over the signature, thinking it must be from her betrothed. But then his eyes came upon a most perplexing sentence.

I pray I will see you again, my love. Before your vows are spoken. Each time I think about you in St. Clair's arms, a pang rips across my body. Knowing you shall marry my most trusted friend is almost unbearable. Never have I envied him before, not even when he proved to be the superior knight.

A light splash interrupted his thoughts.

Benjamin drew back from the bed, his mind reeling with what he had just discovered.

Emilia was involved with another knight.

"I am ready," she announced, moving her knees up to her chest.

His legs felt like lead as he walked over to where he left the jar. It took all of his strength just to raise them up and bring them back down. Even lifting the jar took all his effort.

"This bath does help the wounds. They already feel like they are healing," She sank further into the bath.

Benjamin nodded, slowly unscrewing the lid. A bit of the contents scattered onto the floor from the tremors in his hand.

"Is something wrong?" Emilia asked.

"No." His voice came out low and like gravel. "Why do you ask, my lady?"

"You have been awfully silent."

He shook his head. "I am just thinking about how much the swelling has gone down. And your fingers–" He pointed to them. "They are no longer black."

Emilia raised her hands, looking at them as if she had not realized this. She lowered them back into the water, breaking into an earnest smile. "'Tis all thanks to you."

"My lady, you are giving me too much credence–"

"Benjamin." She stopped him firmly. "'Tis the truth. You saved me from near-certain death."

"You are still not completely healed." He approached, kneeling beside the tub. "There is still more to do."

Emilia nodded, turning around so her back was to him.

Yes, it was true that she had made a miraculous recovery. Especially given the circumstances. But there was still a chance the plague would claim her as its victim. Such a thing was not uncommon.

Yet, there was now the problem of her treachery.

Adulterous women were harshly punished for their crimes, more so than men. He had witnessed their humiliation firsthand in the city. First, their hair was completely shaved off, leaving them practically bald. But that was not the worst of it, oh no. They were then stripped naked and paraded through the streets. All while the crowd jeered and shouted. He had even seen a woman whipped until her back was a mess of flesh and blood. Another had been removed of her ears and nose.

He could still hear the cheers of the peasants echoing in his mind as began adding the herbs to her bath. Her head was dipped down and he could see the outline of her spinal cord along her neck. His fingers went over it, feeling the bone through his glove.

If St. Clair knew, he doubted he would forgive this betrayal and spare Emilia. Those types of men only wanted–only lived for carnage and vengeance.

"Who is–" Benjamin started to say, but decided against it at the last second. It was not worth it.

Emilia turned her head slightly. "Who is who?"

"No one. 'Tis not important." He continued rubbing the herbs over her skin.