Rosamund
"You still need rest, Duchess."
Physician Grey stood beside the infirmary bed with his arms folded and a frown etched so deeply into his face it looked permanent. His medicine box was packed and sitting on the side table, but he hadn't reached for it, which told me he wasn't finished trying to change my mind.
"I've been resting for two days," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "I'm tired of staring at the ceiling and counting cracks in the plaster. I'm fine."
"You sustained significant bruising to your hip and shoulder. Your body needs time to—"
"It's had time." I stood, steadying myself against the bedpost when a dull ache rippled through my left side. "I'll be careful. I promise."
He sighed, eyeing me with resignation. "Where is the Duke? Maybe he can talk some sense into you."
"Nevan's presence will only make me more determined to leave," I flashed him a quiet smile. "Don't worry, I'm truly fine."
