A Single Spark

by Tayvia Pierce

  I answered her without looking up. “It’s a tincture made out of yarrow. It is an antiseptic, which means it keeps the wound clean and prevents infection.” I finished washing and glancing up to Rhian, who had risked a few more steps towards us. I frowned and motioned for her to go back to the table, knowing this last wound that needed tending was the one I wanted to ensure she did not see.

  She gave me a stubborn look and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I have decided that I want to be a healer or a surgeon. I should have an idea of what I’m doing, shouldn’t I?” Her chin tilted upwards slightly and I sighed. Ben snorted softly next to me, apparently finding that occupation for my sister as unlikely as I did.

  “Rhian, go back to the table.” I ordered sharply, reaching for the blankets that still covered Ben from the waist down. I gave him a quick look before pushing only the one side of the blankets over so that I could work on his thigh, Ben’s jaw tightening as he bunched the blankets up over his lap as best he could. While Rhian wouldn’t be able to see anything she shouldn’t, the fact that Ben was completely naked under the blankets would have been clear enough.

  I slowly unwound that bandage from his leg as Rhian looked on, not quite realizing the full extent of this particular injury, though the moment that she clued in was obvious. She let out a strangled gasp, whirling around so her back was to us, I could tell she had turned about fifteen varying shades of crimson. “You could have warned me!” She huffed angrily, drawing my attention over to her. Iolyn and Madox started to laugh at the far end of the table, trying to subdue their amusement with Rhian’s reaction before they drew her ire.

  “What part of ‘this-is-not-appropriate-for-you-go-to-your-room-or- sit-at-the-table’ was not warning enough for you, Rhian?” I shot back at her, knowing very well I had given her plenty of warning, regardless of whether or not she chose to heed it.

  She sputtered a little before barking at me. “You could have warned me better than that!” I stared at her, dumbfounded, not sure how much clearer I could have been.

  Ben tensed, silently growing more and more annoyed with all of this, finally roaring in exasperation. “Enough! Rhian, go to your room!”

  She stiffened and turned white, whirling around as she strode to her room and slammed the door. I sighed, finishing up in silence before he pulled the blankets back up. “I am going to get you some clothes, now that you don’t have the bandages to work around any longer,” I murmured tiredly.

  Ben still looked testy, which I couldn’t blame him for, but he managed to grunt a low, “Thank you.” He didn’t have to express further appreciation, as his surly expression softened into something that resembled relief.

  I rummaged through dressers and drawers, not caring whose clothes I was taking. At last, I located some linen trousers and a cotton shirt, both being soft enough fabric to avoid irritating his injuries. Going back into the main room, Iolyn and Madox were still there, chatting quietly at the table, still chuckling at Rhian’s reaction. “Out.” I barked at them, pointing towards the door.

  They stared at me blankly, not moving a muscle to do as I had commanded, but I was not as amused as they were. I was hardly going to let the injured Ben become little more than a carnival attraction as he tried to dress, so when they didn’t budge, I raised my voice. “OUT! Now!”

  Their eyes widened, completely unaccustomed to this version of Lady Carys, and they left their plates on the table and headed straight for the door. “You can come back in fifteen minutes.” I added, my voice lowered again, but still filled with all the enmity that I was currently feeling.

  CHAPTER 53

  The house was empty, other than the sulking Rhian in her room, who’s quiet crying was the only sound left in the house. I let out a long, tired sigh as I headed back to Ben, looking him over as I tried to decide the best course of action to dress him with as little moving as possible.

  Ben seemed to relax a little as the room emptied, and I looked down at him, filled with indecision. I turned to lay out the clothes on the couch behind me as I tried to decide how best to help him up, but the creak of the floorboards brought my attention back to Ben, who had already taken hold of the chair and was trying to pull himself up.

  I bit back a curse and darted over to where he was struggling to balance as he was trying to get a knee under him. I tried to help and took a hold of his hips, the only place I could grip where he wasn’t wounded. I managed to steady him as he pulled his good leg underneath him, rising to his feet at last.

  “And you think I’m stubborn?” I muttered to him, letting him secure his grip on the back of the chair before slowly letting go, acutely aware of the current location of my hands and their proximity to his manhood, wanting to avoid any further awkwardness.

  I could feel my face growing hot, all the reminders that it was just another body part failing to give me the professional dissociation that I had had days before. It wasn’t just another body part belonging to some anonymous person, it was Ben.

  I turned quickly to avoid the humiliation of him seeing the virginal blush in my cheeks, picking up the trousers and letting them unfurl as I turned around. Ben’s knuckles were white as he gripped the back of the chair and I could see his good leg beginning to tremble from the effort. He hadn’t stood all week, and I half expected him to topple from lightheadedness.

  “Let’s get this done quickly, and we can move your bedroll to a more private corner.” I said, kneeling next to him and opening up the waist for him to step into. He groaned as he slowly moved his injured leg into the opening, pausing to prepare himself for putting his weight on his bad leg. I moved the opening into position as best I could, hoping to minimize the time he would need to spend on his injured leg.

  He stayed silent, though his jaw tightened considerably as he shifted his weight, allowing me to slip the pants over his foot. It was easy enough to pull the pants up and over his hips, though as I tied the waist, he growled lowly. “They are too short.”

  A quick glance down to his feet revealed they were indeed too short, his ankles and feet showing beneath the hem where it sat a quarter of the way up his calf. “Hm.” I murmured, not having any other options when it came to pants, now that I realized nobody in this family was as tall as he was. “If you would rather, I can lend you a dress.” I said evenly.

  He turned his head slowly, giving me a dark look, clearly not finding my half-hearted attempt at a joke humorous. I gave him a defeated sigh and finished tying the laces. “You are taller than everyone else in the household, and I don’t have pants that will fit you properly, so you either wear the short ones or you wear a dress until I can order you clothes to replace the ones you had.”

  A moment of silent contemplation followed. “These will be fine.” He grumbled a moment later, though clearly disapproving of the options. I half thought he might simply choose to remain naked, though perhaps the thought of Rhian’s perpetual hovering led him to choose the shorter pants.

  He slowly twisted himself so he could ease down into the chair, motioning for the shirt, pulling it from my hands so he could put it on himself, groaning through the whole process and ending with an exhausted sigh.

  I grabbed hold of the end of his bedrolls and pulled it towards the corner, setting up his bed where he wouldn’t be in the middle of the room anymore. He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch, a sheen of sweat rolling down his paling face from the exertion, and I nearly commented on his stubborn nature but chose to avoid any more arguments today.

  His head lifted and turned to watch me fluff up his pillows and lay out his blankets, his expression neutral and while he made no sound, I couldn’t help but feel like somehow I was being scolded for some infraction.

  He leaned forward with a grimace, trying to ease his way out of the chair while gripping onto the arm to steady himself. I reached out to help him, though he tore his arm from my grip. “I don’t need your help.” He snapped, though with the sudden movement came a hiss of pain through
his teeth, having pulled the wounds of both his back and chest.

  He slumped a little, the shift in his weight against his bad leg causing him to lose his balance. There was no way to avoid his current injuries this time, I could only step forward to catch his weight against me, barely able to support his taller frame and greater weight while I caught him around his ribs, resulting in an agonized cry.

  He was panting for air and beads of sweat were breaking out on his forehead by the time he got his good leg underneath him to support his weight, but as we neared his bed, stomping echoed on the steps outside and the door crashed open, the interior handle cracking as it hit the wall.

  Brynmor stormed in, his eyes filled with a jealous rage. “He was naked all week?” He bellowed as he rounded to face us. A string of curses ran through my mind, though I could only stare dumbly, blinking several times before ignoring Brynmor to continue helping Ben to his bed.

  Madox, Iolyn, and Darius came in a moment later, Iolyn giving me a deeply apologetic look. “Sorry, Carys…” Iolyn managed to break in.

  Brynmor, however, would not be ignored by me and he took slow, calculated steps forward. “You saw him naked. You….he...you were touching his naked body!” He sputtered as he turned red, then white with rage.

  Ben’s formerly dark look slowly shifted into a subtle smirk as I helped ease him down to sit on the bed. Once the injured man was settled, and only then, did I turn to give Brynmor a direct look. “Yes.” I said with a calm that I did not feel. I was shaking with anger on the inside. “But we are not going to discuss that here or now.” I said, trying desperately to head this conversation off before it got ugly. I had been humiliated by my family too many times already in the short time they had been home and didn’t think I could bear another.

  Brynmor did not share my thought to argue in private, coming to stand in front of me. “Oh no, we are going to do this right now.” He snarled lowly, his eyes flashing with an unusual anger. Brynmor rarely got so angry that he didn’t even seem like himself when he did. “He had no clothes on all week and you were alone with him. What am I supposed to think about that?”

  My clenched jaw began to ache, but I was not about to back down, especially when I knew I had done nothing wrong. It had been the only way to put Ben back together. “I saw no other way to access or fix his injuries with his clothes on.” I shot back with a frighteningly even tone. “The bandages and his wounds needed constant assessment.”

  Ben chimed in, though his tone was perfectly even, one look at his eyes made it clear he was enjoying the opportunity to turn the tide on Brynmor's earlier transgressions. "Don’t forget bathing me. Speaking of, I could use your assistance with that again tomorrow if you have the time Lady Carys." He spoke with an unwelcome tone of familiarity and I felt my very life’s blood still.

  The entire house went still as all eyes turned to Ben, the challenging glint in his eyes adding fuel to the already raging fire. I went both hot and cold at the same time, turning to stare at Ben with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred. I could have forgotten about all the time and effort I put into keeping him alive and murdered him on the spot, wiping that obnoxious smirk from his face forever.

  Brynmor stared at Ben, the idea that I had not only stitched him up in places that bordered on intimacy, I had performed an act that a lover would and bathed him. An act, regardless of the affection between the two, that required a very personal touch, and by the infuriated look that was blooming on Brynmor’s face, definitely not one he approved of. “You bathed him.” His eyes and voice were darker than I had ever known them as he glared at me.

  Brynmor might have been furious with me, but I was angry at Ben for what he was implying. I could barely speak to defend myself. “He was covered in blood and dirt, so yes. I bathed him. I would have done the same for any other, so to pretend this is-...” My words were cut off when Brynmor whirled on his heel and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving me standing there, incensed, and no longer allowed to defend myself.

  I stared at the door after Brynmor until the walls stopped rattling before turning to give Ben a furious glare. I wanted to yell at him, but I couldn’t even stand to talk to him. He had done that on purpose, I knew. The challenging glint in his eyes spoke volumes to me and I saw the truth. He didn’t care about me...he just hated Brynmor and thought to use the fact that I had been kind to him purely as a way to needle the man and find some measure of revenge.

  Ben watched the door slam shut with a self-satisfied smirk and settling into his bed, glancing to me only to be met with a hostile glare. “What?” He asked as though nothing had happened. “I do need another bath soon, Lady Carys.” He had not said my title all week, and I hadn’t cared. It had been just us, and I had felt freed from the responsibilities and duties of my station, settling in to simply being me.

  But that was then, and this was now. I couldn’t even respond to him; any words that might have formed vaporized along with whatever feelings I might have had for him. Whatever we had shared turned to ash, needing only the wind to scatter it forever. I turned and went into my room without saying a word.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  I was hiding in Lund all the next day, Madox at my side while I avoided the painful and awkward humiliation of home. Ben was in the main room and Brynmor was presumably in the staff house avoiding both Ben and myself, and so I was left to either hide in my room (it grew very small very quickly) or go into town, So I paced the streets with no destination in mind, Madox keeping pace with repeated apologetic glances.

  “Stop that.” I flatly ordered him in a flat voice. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to fall apart.” I felt like I might do just that, but my stubborn nature somehow managed to keep me from coming unglued. I didn’t look at him, though I knew he now looked apologetic for looking apologetic.

  “I’m sorry for yesterday, Lady Carys. Lord Iolyn and I were just having a laugh at Rhian’s reaction and we didn’t think about the fact that he is engaged to you. We weren’t trying to start problems.” He murmured his apology. “Look...Iolyn and I don’t care if he was naked in the house all week. I’ve been hurt badly and I get it, and Iolyn just can’t ke-...” I whirled on him and shushed him.

  “Just...stop.” I interrupted my guard harshly. “It’s fine. Brynmor is a jealous ass who doesn’t understand the simplest things about putting a human body back together, and Ben is an ass for...being an ass!” I whirled again and kept walking, Madox trotting after me to keep up.

  “That was certainly some really bad timing….” He winced a little before shaking his head. “Brynmor will come to his senses, don’t worry.” There was a part of me hoped he didn’t, thinking perhaps if he was angry enough, he might break off the engagement. I suspected that him being both a jealous man and a man of his word, he would only make more attempts to ensure I remained his.

  I stopped walking as a little pub came into view, The Pipe & Fiddle. Madox continuing past me as he murmured. “Perfect. A place with alcohol. Just what you need.” He offered me a little smile, trying to be lighthearted.

  I snorted softly, managing a tiny smile back at his efforts to lighten my very black mood. “This is why you are my favorite guard, Madox.” I murmured back, proceeding forward to go inside with him.

  Contrary to the tavern of the Silver Stag, this one was arranged more like a theater, a stage along the wall with small tables arranged around it and filling the small main room. A sign on the wall spoke of a man who performed music and storytelling in the evenings, and I wondered if Rhian knew of this place? It was tucked away in the far corner of the city, so I had my doubts, but knew she would love it here.

  The room was cozy and well lit, a pretty redhead polishing mugs at the counter who looked up at the sound of the door, pausing in her work only long enough to flash us a beaming smile. Her flaming curls bobbed as she gestured. “The show doesn’t start for a couple of hours yet, but you’re welcome to find a seat already.” I returned the smile and looked
around at the relatively empty room, eyes settling on the nearest patron.

  Brynmor, to my dismay, was not at the staff house, but inside the tavern. He sat slumped over the frothy mug clutched to his chest, a sour look written over his face. I groaned audibly as he looked up to meet my gaze, watching the myriad of emotions flicker over his face before a deeply remorseful look settled on his features and motioned for us to come over.

  Madox leaned over and murmured. “Go sit with him, I will get you a drink and give you two a minute.” He nudged me with his elbow and said, “Just try not to kill him with witnesses around.” He tossed in a rare joke, one that I would have laughed at under different circumstances before he headed off to the bar. I let out a sigh, eying Madox at his jest though turning with his nudge. Best to get this over with.

  “Carys…” He began as I took a seat, looking abashed. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was angry and jealous and I shouldn’t have yelled at you in front of everyone.” He let out a sigh, but I was not so easily placated.