"He will be fine. It is not a deep cut; a week is all he needs for the wound to close up," Garrick explained to Lucien in front of Elian's door.
Lucien didn't speak; he only gave the man a nod and shut the door. He stood in front of the closed door a while, breathing slowly to steady his raging emotions.
"I did not do this to him, Lucien. I swear it," Lysandra said from the side of Elian's bed.
Lucien remained quiet.
Lysandra sighed. "He is not the one I crave to kill, Lucien... he is not our enemy. You know this," she whispered the last part.
Finally, Lucien turned, slowly walking over to the other side of Elian's bed, staring down at his sleeping face.
"You care about him—"
"I do not," Lucien cut Lysandra off, pinning her with a serious look.
Lysandra shook her head. "You know you do not have to be so hard on yourself, Lucien. None of this was your fault—"
"You know nothing, Lysandra," Lucien murmured.
