Lucien stormed out of the infirmary, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
The door had barely slammed shut when Rowan rushed in, having followed the commotion from the hallway. His face paled at the sight of Elian lying unconscious on the bed, a fresh bloom of red soaking through the bandages on his chest.
"Gods… what happened?" Rowan breathed, immediately moving to Soren's side.
Soren didn't answer right away. He was already cutting away the bloodied wrappings with steady but tense hands.
Rowan stepped in without hesitation, standing shoulder to shoulder with the doctor as they worked together to clean the reopened wound. The gash had torn open again, angry and inflamed, weeping fresh blood.
They cleaned it in grim silence, wiping away the crimson with damp cloths, applying fresh salve, and pressing clean bandages firmly over the injury. Rowan's hands trembled slightly as he held pressure on the wound.
