"Doc… are you going to wrap her elbow?"
Soren's shoulders tightened once. He turned back to the bed without lifting his eyes past the girl's arm.
"Hold still," he told her. Not Finn.
He took the bandage from the tray, measured a length against her forearm, and began to wrap. His hands were steady. Clinical. He worked from the joint outward, firm enough to support, careful not to cut circulation. The maid flinched once; Finn murmured something soft against her hair and she settled.
Soren finished the last turn, tucked the end, and finally spoke to her alone.
"No lifting for a week. No twisting. Keep it elevated when you sit. If the fingers go numb or the pain sharpens at night, you come back immediately. Do you understand?"
She nodded, still shaky, still half against Finn's chest.
"Yes, Doctor. Thank you."
"Go. Rest."
Finn helped her stand. She gave him a watery smile, clutched her wrapped arm to her side, and limped out. The infirmary door clicked shut behind her.
Silence.
