"Your bath is ready then, my Queen," Silver said, his voice lowering as he prepared to step away.
Evangeline simply raised her uninjured hand, waving it in a dismissive gesture that signaled she didn't care for his teasing.
As Silver turned and moved toward the bathing chambers, Evangeline walked slowly toward the vanity. She stared at her reflection in the grand mirror, taking in her appearance; she looked dreadfully pale, almost sickly, and the stark white of her thin nightgown draped over her slight frame like a burial shroud. With a quiet, steady breath, she pulled the fabric down slightly over her shoulder, peeling away the edges of the blood-stained bandages to inspect the wound beneath.
'Hmm...' she mused silently, her eyes narrowing at the jagged tear. 'It seems it will take quite some time to heal completely.'
