The moment she took the handkerchief he wanted it back. It would have been much less awkward to mop up the remaining blood than to remain on his knees in front of her, entirely too close and with nothing to do with his hands. He was left to watch as she cleaned herself up, and to wonder why the way she smiled was making him feel like squirming.

Finally he decided that enough was enough and returned to his feet, finding a spot on the edge of the bed an armlength away from where she sat on the footstool. "Do you know any good healing spells?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual despite his heart's sudden erratic rhythm.

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