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My stomach was in knots the night before that red X on the calendar - the six-week mark. If all went well, I would get the bandages off my wrists and the freedom to walk out of my room tomorrow. Chevalier had been gone a few days for an inspection tour, but he’d assured me he’d be back in time for the party, catered by Yves, who had spent the afternoon with me, discussing the menu for the party. It sounded like he’d be in the kitchen all morning. And then Theresa went through everything in my wardrobe, debating what I should wear, and the doctor started the taper for my pain medicine, and there was no way I was getting any sleep. Not right away, anyway.
I tried to stay in bed. I really did.
After an hour of lying in the dark, too excited to even close my eyes, I gave up and slipped out of bed. Lighting the candle on the nightstand was tricky without bending my wrists, but I managed, and I carried it with me into the bathroom. A few minutes out of bed, and then I’d be back under the covers, behaving myself for the rest of the night. The doctor never had to know.
Or I might stay up and read for a while. He never came to check on me this late, not that I knew, anyway.
The flickering candlelight cast long, warped shadows on the white-tiled floor as I figured out how to navigate the bathroom without bending my wrists. It was frustrating enough that I almost removed the bandages myself, but I had only to picture the doctor’s stern expression to chase that idea out of my head. I suddenly felt very guilty. Every passing minute made me feel more certain that this would be the night he came to check on me, and when he found me out of bed, he’d cancel the party tomorrow. By the time I got to the sink, I was rushing so much that I was fumbling with the nozzles, trying to keep the bandages dry and finishing as quickly as possible, and then a light knock at the door made my racing heart drop into my feet.
I knew it.
I turned the water off and blew the candle out, but it was too late. He’d caught me. Just a few more hours until my freedom, and I’d blown it. I dried my hands quickly, scrambling for the right words and coming up blank. There was really nothing else for it but to face him and apologize profusely. I took a deep breath and started as soon as my hand touched the doorknob.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be out of bed, but I-”
The words died in my throat as I realized it wasn’t the doctor, but Chevalier, standing in the doorway. I bit my lip, unable to read his expression in the dark, beyond his arms crossed over his chest. Was he smirking, or was I just hoping he was?
What was he doing here?
It felt strange to stand in front of him like this after weeks of being confined to my bed. I’d forgotten how much taller he was than me. Everybody was tall from the perspective of lying down, and almost every adult I knew was taller than me, but he really made me feel small. Especially right now, catching me in the act of disobeying the doctor.
“U-um…d-did you just get back from your trip?” I asked hesitantly, warmth creeping into my cheeks as the butterflies woke up.
He stepped toward me, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me to his chest. I gasped in surprise, automatically putting my hands up between us as he nuzzled into my hair. His heart was pounding as hard as mine. I stood still for a moment, too confused to even question his presence. His embrace was tight but gentle, accompanied by the sweet smell of roses, and I suddenly realized how much I’d missed this. There was something so right, so perfect about being in his arms. I relaxed and leaned into him, closing my eyes and just savoring the feeling. He sighed and squeezed me a little tighter.
“Ivetta,” he murmured, “you’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied, peeking up at him shyly. “You’re supposed to be gone.”
“I needed to see you.”
His hand left my back to tilt my chin up, and I curled my fingers into his jacket as the warmth of his lips met mine. He was smiling. I felt it in the curve of his lips against mine, and I felt the stretch in my cheeks as my lips mirrored his. It didn’t matter why he was here, or what time it was. I was just happy to be with him. My chest was tight with emotion, and when he pulled back, fanning my face with his breath, that emotion escaped in a single breath as his name. He reached down to scoop me up under my knees, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as best as the bandages would allow, nuzzling into him as he carried me out of the bathroom.
“Where are we going?” I asked, more to hear his voice than anything.
“You’ll see.”
I heard a soft click, and then the feel of the cool night air on my skin prompted me to open my eyes as he stepped onto the balcony. The starry night sky and crescent moon lit the gardens below with a silvery light. He sat down, settling me on his lap, and I let my hands drop from their awkward position of sticking straight out around his neck to rest on his chest.
“No guards?” I teased.
“They’re down below,” he replied, the warmth in his crystal blue eyes plainly visible to me now.
“Can they see us?” I asked, feeling the heat spreading in my cheeks at the thought. He brushed my hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers along my jaw to tilt my chin up for another kiss.
“Do you care?” he murmured between kisses.
“As long as they don’t tell the doctor.”
“They won’t,” he said, pulling back and running his thumb across my bottom lip. “And neither will I. He wouldn’t approve of my being here.”
“So, why are you here?” I asked, resting my head against his shoulder. “Do you often sneak into my room at night to watch me sleep?”
He chuckled and threaded his fingers through my hair. “No, I don’t. This is the first time.”
“Is something wrong?” I persisted, sliding my hand up into the black ruff of his cloak collar.
“Not anymore.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and pulled the edge of his cloak over me. “Do you often sneak out of bed at night?”
I shook my head. “This is the first time.”
“Is something wrong?”
My smile widened. “Yes, actually. I’m sick of these things,” I said, waving my bandaged wrist in the air.
He caught my hand in his and set it back on his chest. “You get them off tomorrow.”
“And that’s why I can’t sleep. I’m too excited.”
“Then you won’t mind if I stay here awhile.”
I snuggled into his chest, wrapped in the warmth of his arms and his cloak, the scent of his cologne mixing with the natural scent of the roses down below. “No, I guess not.”
We didn’t talk much after that. I was still curious about why he was here, but not curious enough to want to disturb the moment. The still and the silence washing over me, the comfort and security I felt with him - I suppose it was inevitable that I fell asleep. I closed my eyes to the soothing sound of his heartbeat, and I opened them to Theresa’s jarring morning greeting as she threw the curtains open.
“Mm, Theresa, go away,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side and burying my face in the pillow.
“But it’s the big day,” she reminded me, yanking the pillow out from under me.
“Theresa!” I exclaimed, sitting up and glaring at her.
“You have the day off, and you want to spend it sleeping?” she asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Just another hour,” I grumbled, snatching at the pillow, but she danced out of reach.
“You’re always such an early bird. Are you sick?”
I sighed in exasperation and flopped back down, grabbing another pillow and stuffing it under my head. “No. I just had some trouble getting to sleep last night.”
“Too busy thinking about a certain someone?” she asked mischievously, yanking my new pillow away.
“Theresa!” I groaned. “The doctor’s not even here yet!”
“But he will be soon, so you’d better tell me all about it now.”
I grabbed another pillow and threw it at her. She dodged it and smacked me with the one in her hand.
“Ooh, don’t tell me you dreamed about him, too?” she taunted.
“I didn’t have to,” I retorted, throwing another pillow.
“He was here?” she gasped, caught off guard. The pillow hit her right in the face.
“Don’t you dare tell the doctor,” I warned her, punctuating my threat with another pillow. That was a benefit of higher living: plenty of pillows.
“Ivetta!” she squealed, catching the pillow and pummeling me with it. “What happened? Tell me everything!”
“Do you see these bandages?” I reminded her, using them to shield my face from her onslaught. “I’m injured!”
“I can see that,” the doctor’s calm voice said, cutting through the flying pillows. Theresa and I froze, each with a pillow in hand. One airborne missile hit Theresa’s shoulder with a soft thud. “Would it be alright if I remove those bandages now?”
Theresa moved about the room in silence, picking up the pillows, while I held my breath as the doctor carefully unwound the bandages. His calloused fingers felt around my wrists, and then he had me bend them, move them around, and do a few movements with my hands and fingers, asking if I felt any pain every time. I was already smiling widely before his twitching mustache gave way to an undisguised smile that creased the wrinkles around his eyes.
“Well, I didn’t think it was possible, but everything seems to have healed normally,” he pronounced.
“You didn’t think I would heal?” I asked in disbelief.
He shook his head, still smiling. “That’s not what I said. Once you survived the first twenty-four hours, I knew you’d heal, but I expected some disfigurement to your face, some loss of function in your wrists, a permanent limp, and you have none of that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I gasped.
“He didn’t want you to worry,” Theresa interjected. “So, now she doesn’t need you anymore, right?”
“Not quite,” he replied. “The bones will continue to strengthen over the next two weeks, and it is important for you to listen to your body during that time so you don’t stress the healing areas. Rest when you’re tired, stop what you’re doing when you feel sore, no strenuous activity. And I’ll still be by twice a day to check on you and administer your pain medicine until you’ve tapered off of it completely.”
“Great! So, what are you wearing today, Ivetta?” Theresa asked brightly.
“I would suggest something easy to get in and out of in case you have problems,” the doctor said, collecting the bandages. “And if you need me, just call.”
“Wait,” I said, stopping him as he turned to go with a hug. “Thank you for everything.”
He cleared his throat and patted me on the back gingerly. “I’ll be back tonight, young lady.”
Theresa hid her giggle behind her hand as he headed for the door. As soon as he was gone, she spun back to me with a wide smile. “So, what happened with Chevalier?”
“First, I would like a bath,” I said, smiling just as widely as she was. “With nobody else in the bathroom.”
She sighed heavily, but her green eyes were sparkling. “I guess I can wait that long."
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