“He has,” Frey told him.
“What’s this stuff on her back?” Noc asked, and the guy who was obviously the doctor looked back to him.
“Willow salt,” he stated. “I’ve left a jar and clean dressings,” he went on.
He dipped his chin to a variety of shit that was sitting on the table beside the chair.
Then he closed his case with a pissed-off snap and lifted it, ordering, “In the morning, if you can get her to eat, do so. But I’ve also left some willow tea to assist with the pain. It needs to be seeped until it’s dark. And the dressings need to be changed as well. On the morrow, mix these jars.” He pointed to the jars on table. “As the bleeding will be staunched, willow salt will no longer be needed. Simply mix the lavender oil with the honey salve and the willow paste.” He glanced at Franka. “There’s nothing to be done with stitches, considering the extensive scar tissue she already has. But even if that were not the case, there’s little skin left to stitch. But the salve will be soothing and hasten healing.”
He started marching to the door but stopped and looked up at Frey.
“I’ll return late morning to check on her,” he announced.
“That would be appreciated,” Frey replied.
The doctor gave Frey a short nod, didn’t look at anybody and stomped out the door.
“Can you do more, Valentine?” Finnie asked, she and Frey moving closer to the bed where Valentine was standing opposite it from Noc.
“I’m not a healer, my goddess of love,” she stated, her gaze directed at Franka. She looked to Finnie. “I know some, but they would not be able to do much more than the doctor did. Even if we brought her to our world, outside of managing the pain, I’m not even certain a cosmetic surgeon could find results. Unfortunately, the damage has long been done.”
Finnie looked up at Frey. “The elves?”
Frey nodded. “I’ll call to Nillen.”
“I caution you, my chéries, do not act in haste without Franka’s input. Your kindness might not be considered the same to her,” Valentine warned.
“I mean no offense, Valentine, but that’s daft,” Frey returned, jerking his head toward the bed. “I know her state has far from escaped you.”
“There are many of us who find strength and even honor in our scars, those within,” she dipped her head to Franka, “and those without.”
“Begging all your pardons,” a timid voice came at them and Noc turned his head in its direction to see that the girl who had woken him to tell him Franka was in danger was coming out of the shadows by the windows and toward the bed, “but Lady Franka should continue to rest and I fear, the lights on, conversation happening…” she trailed off but they all got her gist.
“I’m staying,” Noc said, turning to the lamp by the bed and twisting it so the flame within died. “You all go.”
“I can stay with my lady,” the girl offered.
“You have a name, honey?” he asked.
“Josette.”
“Right, Josette, you’ll need to have it together to take care of her when she’s up. So you should probably get some shuteye.”
She bit her lip, looked to Franka, made her decision and nodded.
But she didn’t leave. She started moving around, turning out the lamps.
Frey, Finnie and Valentine did move to leave.
“You need anything, you call,” Finnie said as she paused at the door. “We’re three rooms down, other side.”
“Right, babe. Thanks,” Noc muttered, gave her a smile, gave Frey a look and they moved out.
Valentine didn’t say anything. She just smiled that small, weird smile of hers that he didn’t know if it was cute, smirky or sexy, but taking it in it was all three.
Noc went to the fire, threw a couple of logs on and settled in a chair.
“Goodnight, Lord Noctorno,” Josette said quietly as she made her way to the side door.
“I’m not a lord, Josette, and everyone calls me Noc.”
She made a shy, self-conscious noise, avoided his eyes and disappeared behind the door.
The room was dark, except for the fire.
But thank fuck, the chair was comfortable.
So Noc stretched out, stared at the fire, didn’t think he’d get a wink of sleep, but was unconscious in minutes.
* * * * *
Franka
I barely woke before I heard Josette’s hushed, “I think she’s awake.”
I opened my eyes and tilted them up to see Noc and Josette standing by the bed, Josette looking anxious, Noc looking gentle.
Bloody hell.
“Yep, she’s awake,” Noc murmured and started grinning. “How you doin’, Frannie?”
I began to push up to my forearms, surprised that the pain in my back was dull rather than sharp, doing this snapping, “I’ll be excellent, when you cease calling me this crude name.”
Noc’s grin got bigger but he did it bending closer.
“Move another inch, sugarlips, and I’ll sit on you.”
I was groggy from the sleeping draught but I was also Franka Drakkar.
Therefore I was relatively certain the glare I sent his way was scorching.
Apparently I was wrong, for the glare had no effect except to make him stop grinning and start smiling.
He had excellent teeth.
Oh, but the goddess Adele did not like me.
Our eyes locked in a battle of wills I was physically incapable of winning, though mentally I could best him (perhaps), but movement made the dull pain sharpen and thus I decided (for my own sake, of course) to settle back down to my front.