Lara stepped into the infirmary just as Shaya slipped out, the wooden door creaking behind her. The scent of antiseptic herbs and faint coppery traces of blood lingered in the air, mingling with the quiet groans and muffled coughs of the wounded.
On one of the cots at the far side of the room, Percival raised his head the moment he saw her. He pressed both palms theatrically to his chest, eyes wide with mock despair.
"Sister, at last you grace me with your presence. My heart is shattered."
Lara arched a brow. "What are you talking about, Perci? I was here last night—and the nights before that." She crossed the room swiftly, skirts brushing against the edge of his cot, and began unwrapping the linen that bound his arm.
"What do you mean by that, Perci. I was here last night and the nights prior." Lara protested. She leaned, then unraveled the bandage and check on his wound.
She gave an exaggerated sigh. "You were sleeping like a log, so you never noticed me visiting.."
