As Bard held her hand, her once ice cold skin began to heat up. Soon her body seemed like it was one fire, a fever had set in causing her to sweat as if the sun were in the room with her. Annabelle could feel his hands around hers, a welcomed touch but deep down it frightened the woman. In her state there was nothing she could do about it. The poison in her was affecting her mind, making her think that Girion was next to her and not Bard and that she was already dead. Her body began to tremble, it could not cope with the temperature fluxes. For a small moment, Annabelle seemed to snap out of her trance, looking over at Bard with fear in her eyes.
“You are safe here, my lady,” Bard reassured her in quiet, but firm tones. Her hand was gripping his so tight, but he did not withdraw, instead laying his other hand over their connected ones. “You are in the house of Master Darian of Dale, a skilled healer, and my friend. He will administer the Kingsfoil to your wound, and you shall recover. But you must will it. My lady… You must fight. Do not wander to far, for I fear you may not return if you do. Please… Fight.”
nxhope liked this