Hyacinth (Tamlin's Healing Arc)

Chapter Twenty Seven

The next time Cin woke up, it wasn't Tamlin at her bedside; it was Abina.

And Abina was gazing out the small window above Cin's head, basking in the warm morning sunlight.

"I hope whatever you're staring at is more entertaining than the drapes you've used to decorate this bed," Cin mused, rubbing her eyes.

Abina's caramel eyes snapped towards Cin, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh yeah, nothing beats the sight of shirtless men drenched in sweat."

"Is that objectification I hear?" Cin propped herself up on her elbows, attempting to crane her neck to catch a glimpse of what Abina found so captivating.

Abina took a step back and settled into the seat Tamlin had occupied. "You wouldn't be complaining if you could see what I'm seeing." She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. "I also think it's incredibly unfair that you never told me about the High Lord's well-defined abs."

"His what?" Cin's curiosity piqued, and she sat upright, crawling halfway up the bed to catch a glimpse of what Abina was talking about. Abina burst into laughter and quickly reached out to prevent Cin from toppling off the unsteady bed and injuring herself.

"How long has he been out there?" Cin asked, readjusting herself and gesturing towards the window, tucking her messy hair behind her ears.

"A couple of hours, I think," Abina shrugged. "It's almost late afternoon now, so they'll be wrapping up soon."

"Afternoon?" Cin frowned, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. "Of course it is." She shifted, gesturing towards the window, her disheveled hair falling around her ears. "Did he get any sleep last night?"

"The High Lord? Well, if you consider losing consciousness on a chair for a few hours sleeping," Abina exhaled disapprovingly through her nose, pulling out two wrapped sandwiches from her apron pocket. She offered one to Cin, whose stomach growled at the tantalizing scent of tuna and mayo.

"Why? What would you call it?" Cin unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite, savoring the flavors, almost feeling a tinge of guilt.

"Temporary unconsciousness," Abina snickered between bites. Her hair, twisted into a similar messy bun atop her head, took on an almost orange hue in the setting sun's light that streamed through the window. It contrasted with the coppery brown shade that Cin knew it to be.

Suddenly, Cin glanced down and realized she wasn't wearing the lilac dress she had worn before. "Whose clothes are these, Abina?"

Looking down at the deep red halter-neck dress with lacy brown frills along the neckline, hemline, and sleeve edges that extended halfway down her arms, Cin was taken aback. The bodice hugged her figure down to her hips, where the skirt gracefully flared out around her legs.

"It's from the market. I picked it out. Yours was ruined with all the cutting and blood. I would've given you one of mine, but..." Abina gestured to her own flat chest. Cin wasn't heavily endowed, but she was at least two cup sizes larger than Abina, big enough to know that Abina's dresses would tear if they tried to fit over Cin's chest. Besides, Cin's shoulders were broader too. "The High Lord paid for it, so it's yours now."

"At least they're accepting his money," Cin said, finishing the sandwich.

"Because it came from my hand," Abina apologized, looking at Cin with a touch of regret. "It was bad, Cin. You had...well, to put it simply, you had blood pooling on your brain. We're lucky Freda is a skilled healer and that she was here when the High Lord brought you in. He tried to pay her for her services, although the hub desperately needs the money, but she refused to accept anything from him. The farthest she was allowed to chase him was the garden area downstairs, and even then, Freda was fortunate he let me drag him away."