Claire felt her heart break. She set the jar down and crossed the space between them. Pressing her hands on either side of his face, she rose up on tip toes and kissed him softly on the lips. “Everything will be fine, Bayard. No matter what happens, everything is going be fine.”
She lowered back down onto her feet. Sometimes, she hated having chosen the life of a healer. It meant sometimes making the difficult choices and having to carry the weight of that on her own. Having knowledge wasn’t a blessing among people who would not understand that knowledge. She ached to tell Bayard, to explain exactly what was happening. But he would balk, wouldn’t he? He would call her the monster, wouldn’t he? Then, he could take Leo away and what if Leo did survive the fever? In the end, it would be Claire’s fault. In the end, the innocent blood the small warlock would shed would be on Claire’s hands. To be honest, she would rather have warlock blood on her hands, even if it came from the body of a child.
♘— Bayard kissed her back just as chastely, then took her hands in his. The kiss was more than just a comfort. It was reassurance. She was there. She was his constant. Whatever happened, she was going to remain where she always was: at his side. “I pray it will be. I’m not ready to lose him, Claire. Not yet. He’s so young, a light of innocence with his endearing curiosity.“ His eyes trailed over to the pale squire, who uttered a whimper as he shifted on the cot.
