Those Lovely Shards (BXB)

Chapter Seven

Neil felt overwhelmed at the moment. If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in a cozy apartment, resting on a comfortable armchair with the softest quilt wrapped over his body and sipping warm cardamom tea, he would have called that person a lunatic.

But here he was, doing those exact things in a huntsman's home after rescuing him and his son from a ferocious tiger in the forest.

"Excuse me? Is he okay?" Neil asked, his voice quavering upwards by a decibel on the last word. His gaze fell upon the still unconscious boy, a pair of claw marks adorning his left cheek, blood oozing out from the marks, and his dark brown curls disheveled.

The sight of the injured boy stirred a mix of emotions in Neil. Gratitude welled up within him, knowing that he played a part in saving this young life. At the same time, shyness washed over him, making him hesitant to impose further on the huntsman's family. He felt conflicted, torn between his desire to help and his internal worries about overstaying his welcome.

The huntsman wiped the sweat accumulated over the boy's face and spoke with a cool, authoritative voice, "I think it's time we clean his wounds. Azealia, come outside and help me with your brother."

A young girl stepped out from an adjoining room, wearing an apron with a smudge of flour on her cheek. Her hair was tied in a tight bun, and she was holding a knife and a potato in her hand.

Observing the girl's busyness with supper preparations, Neil realized that she was already working strenuously, and it would be wrong to disturb her further. With empathy and consideration, Neil stood up to volunteer in her stead.

"Mr. Knight, I'll help you with your son's wounds," he offered, his voice carrying a mix of determination and compassion.

"No, but you're our guest," Azealia spoke up.

"It's alright, I insist," Neil pressed on, his gratitude towards the family driving him to take action.

Eventually, both of them agreed. 

Neil carefully placed the ceramic cup on a wooden table nearby while neatly folding the quilt and draping it on the armchair, displaying his appreciation for the comfort he had been provided.

Without looking back, Mr. Knight positioned himself, turning away from Neil, and laid a sterile towel on the floor of the tokonoma alcove. He meticulously arranged his tools upon it, a sight that piqued Neil's curiosity. Suppressing his urge to inquire, Neil decided to remain silent, not wanting to disrupt the unfolding process.

Following Mr. Knight's guidance, Neil carefully removed the linen shirt that concealed Eryx's wounded torso. A wave of timidity washed over him, causing a slight tremor in his hands. Momentarily uncertain, he hesitated, his palms hovering tentatively over Eryx's injured upper body. Despite his initial hesitation, Neil summoned his resolve and embarked on the task of cleansing the wounds with unwavering delicacy. Every touch was infused with tenderness and attentiveness. With each motion of the towel, Neil grew increasingly cognizant of the pain Eryx had endured, and an overwhelming sense of compassion enveloped him.

As Mr. Knight brought the ointments to relieve Eryx's wounds, Neil stepped aside, his mind now occupied with thoughts of where he would stay when darkness fell.

"Mr. Knight, would you guide me to any good lodgings available for the night nearby?" Neil inquired, his voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and concern.

"Lodgings? Why? You're staying here, lad," Mr. Knight replied.

Neil's internal conflict resurfaced. He didn't want to burden the family or take advantage of their kindness and hospitality, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the warmth and comfort they offered. Neil found himself torn between his desire to preserve his independence and his need for support.