Crow averted his gaze embarrassedly when Penelope stepped closer to help him get up. He found it humiliating that he needed help to do something as simple as sitting again. Enjoying being able-bodied and independent, he’d thought that he was done with being assisted in menial tasks once the worst of his illness had healed, but apparently, the gods liked to watch him be forced to swallow his pride and accept help from other people. He just hoped he would recover quickly, so he wouldn’t have to keep doing so for much longer.

As Penelope began to lift him up from the bed, he remembered something else that made him tense apprehensively: If he was sitting up, there would be nothing to hide the bloodstains on the mattress. He glanced furtively at the knight to find that she had noticed the crimson spots as well. Fortunately, she also seemed to understand that he didn’t want Jane to know he had a severe cough because, while the physician was looking away, she used his blanket to cover the stains without him having to say anything.

Relieved that he didn’t have to worry about getting questioned by Jane over the blood, Crow relaxed slightly. However, the moment of peace didn’t last long before the physician went to work rewrapping his wound. He cringed at her roughness, which was especially painful since he’d just been freshly sutured. As always, if the noblewoman noticed his discomfort, she didn’t care. She worked quickly but effectively as she finished redressing his wound, and once she was done, wasted no time in excusing herself from the tent.

He followed her with his eyes as she exited the room and then rolled them once she’d left. However, he said nothing about it as another sharp pain blossomed from his injury. The thief winced, wishing he had something to numb the ache, but knowing the physician would never “waste her supplies” on a criminal like him. It would have been pointless to even ask. He was just going to have to put up with the pain until he healed enough that it went away on its own.

Penelope’s voice caught his attention, and he turned to her with a faint shrug. “I’m just glad one of the physicians in your camp was willing to treat me at all,” he shook his head. While he disliked how careless Jane was about making the procedure unnecessarily painful for him, he really was relieved that she was tending to him. With a wound as serious as the one he’d received from Jaxon, he doubted even Hazel had the skills to keep him alive. The grumpy physician was the only person standing between him and a rather painful death. So, despite her attitude, he did appreciate the work she’d put in to save him.

At Penelope’s following words, Crow met her gaze with a nod. “I don’t know if there’s anything we [i]can[/i] do,” he admitted, reaching for her hand again now that they were alone. His illness was concerning to him too. Not only would it cause problems for his recovery, but he also doubted they could hide it from Jane forever. If he coughed up blood every third day, as had been the trend recently, the physician was bound to notice it sooner or later. He shuddered to think what might happen if he had another episode when a different knight was stationed to guard him. As far as he knew, even Olivia and Gavin weren’t aware he was ill. Either one of them might panic if they saw him cough up blood and report his symptoms to Jane.

He sighed, unsure how to even begin approaching the issue. “Honestly, it’s never gone away completely, even when I was taking the medicine Hazel made for me…” he added in a soft voice.