Chapter 47
“There, there, that’s it now,” Aunt Florence is saying. “Just a few more stitches and we’ll have you as good as new.”
“It’s taking you long enough.” Leo sounds disgusted.
My eyes flutter open. I’m lying in the Apothecary cottage, on the surgical table.
I’ve seen this room a thousand times, but never from this angle.
Aunt Florence is peering at my stomach, her suturing kit nearby.
She’s squinting through her thick glasses.
Leo stands impatiently behind her, trying to see over her shoulder.
I gently explore the edges of the cut left by the vine. It was a bleeder, but it isn’t exceptionally deep. Seven stitches should do the trick.
Aunt Florence holds my gaze, her mouth rigid. “You’re awake,” she says. “Apparently you were attacked by a wild animal.”
“Two Guardians died saving her,” Leo interjects, shooting me a warning glance.
Aunt Florence’s eyes narrow, but she keeps talking to me. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” she says. “You should be back on your feet in no time.”
“Where’s Gryphon?” I ask.
Leo begins to fiddle with a row of jars holding bandaging materials.
“Leave those alone,” Aunt Florence scolds. “They’re sterilized.”
Leo turns back, rolling his eyes. “Gryphon’s patrolling the perimeter, which is what he should’ve been doing all along rather than sneaking off with you lot. Jarek ordered me to keep an eye on you. You were cut up pretty bad.”
“I’m okay,” I say, starting to sit up.
Aunt Florence gently pushes me back down. “I need to keep her under observation,” she tells Leo.
“She’ll be fine,” Leo says dismissively. “Her gran’s here. Jarek said he wanted a report from you as soon as you were done stitching her up.”
Aunt Florence sighs. She cleans my wound, which hurts worse than the sutures she puts in.
When she’s done, she stretches her back and goes to the sink to wash her hands, her movements slow, measured.
It’s how she carries herself when she’s upset.
Really upset. She dries her hands on her apron before switching it out for a clean one.
“You take it easy, Rosie. I’ll clean up when I return.” She gives me the same stern look I used to level on patients I suspected would break their bedrest. “After you,” she says to Leo.
They disappear out the door. Alone in the surgery room, I ease myself off the table, wincing at the raw tug of new stitches, and teeter into the main cottage. I expect to see Gran in front of the fire.
Instead, it’s Augustus.
“You must be wondering why we kept so much from you,” he says as I enter, his voice hoarse.