Perhaps it wasn’t the best for Irene to witness what Stanley would do to her father, but she wanted to put on a brave face the sa way Arthur had done for her so many tis in the past. She was unaware that when the mage had worked on her injury, her father left the room because he couldn’t bear witnessing soone performing such a grim task on his daughter.
Even though watching him be put under a sleeping spell caused her insides to churn with worry, she trusted the mage because he had put her through the sa thing.
There was a very real urge to cling to Leif for comfort as she might have if she were presenting herself as a girl. Having to hide behind n in fear was sothing she had grown into in the future she saw. In her present lifeti, it wasn’t until that mont that she felt the urge to rely on others so much, especially in the way of emotions.
She had a desire to be entirely impenetrable, but it was hard to keep herself together after witnessing her father act recklessly because he was terrified of her getting hurt. She began blaming herself yet again.
First, her grandmother was sick earlier than she was supposed to be. Now her father was gravely injured because of her since she wasn’t originally supposed to be part of the knights. He never would have been so careless if it weren’t for her.
The worst thing about life was that decisions were already made and there was no turning back ti anymore. She didn’t know if she died in that life that she would have a third chance to right all of her wrongs.
Through the burdenso thoughts, she managed to keep a brave face.
They laid a towel underneath Arthur’s arm, and the maids began dumping water over the bloody ss and cleaning it up as best they could. At first, they hesitated, watching the knight for a response each ti their normally soft—but at that mont incredibly rough—cloths went over his damaged appendage.
All the cleaning seed to do was take away the blood and bit of dirt that was left over, but what was revealed didn’t offer a bit of relief to anyone in that room.
The hand Arthur once used to command his sword as if it were an extension of himself was completely unrecognizable. His bones were in tiny pieces. There was no sign of muscle fibers since the arm had been ground down to minceat. Not even the nails of his fingers remained, or the shape of fingers at all. There was a possibility that they hadn’t even brought his hand with them considering the amount of blood he had shed on the battlefield that day.
"I have no other choice," Stanley announced.
Everyone around was surprised to hear the mage so moved to emotion. Normally he was stoic at best and a jokester at worst, but to see him genuinely burdened by the choice he was going to have to make struck everyone around him.
Without another word, the mage grabbed one of the sharp knives he had brought with him. He then began slicing away the flesh that was hanging on to nothing. It was clear he was doing his best to leave as much of the man’s arm as he could, but the more he cut, the more he found the damage even underneath the part of the flesh that wasn’t entirely smashed. There were bone fragnts everywhere and he knew he needed to remove those too so that there wouldn’t be further complications in the healing.
Perhaps the most horrifying part was when he took a rough tool to the jagged bone that remained and he had to smooth around the point or it would one day slice through the flesh it resided just underneath.
By that point, Irene’s knees had beco weak and she fell into the corner where she and Leif had been forced to stay in.
For a few monts, all she could do was hold the apprentice’s handkerchief over her face. She thought she was strong but all she wanted to do was cry and complain.
It wasn’t fair.
It was all her fault.
"Oh, how beautiful."
Irene’s hands left her face and the handkerchief fell away. Her eyes found the maid who dared utter sothing so horrible when her father was in the most dire situation of his entire life.
She stood up quickly, but was only t with the mage’s glowing light as he put a bit of remaining flesh over the exposed bone then began the healing process.
The first round of healing stopped the bleeding and the second caused scabs to form. A final round was what sealed off the injury altogether until there wasn’t even an open wound left over. All that was there was soft, scarred flesh that would never get easier to look at.
"He will sleep for a while," Stanley explained. "Please, excuse ."
The mage poorly wiped his hands on a towel offered to him and he tossed it back to a maid. He then rummaged through his sleeves and he found a pocket containing herbs.
"For blood loss," he uttered. "Take it like tea."
Another mage was there, attentive to Stanley as he stood up. She instantly rushed to his side, seeing him so unstable on his feet.
Everyone in the room made way for Stanley and the younger mage to go through. Even though he was leaving abruptly, he still seemingly saved the knight so beloved to all.
Irene looked up at Stanley from where she sat on the floor with Leif fussing over her. The old mage’s face was paler than normal and she held genuine concern but didn’t know what to ask.
Stanley could read the child like a book. He stopped by the door and leaned downward a bit before uttering "mana depletion" and then straightening himself out.
"Quite the injury, I must say," he continued uttering, even as he walked out of the room.
It didn’t clear up very much for Irene, but all she knew was that her father was at least stable.
All that was left for her to do was go to her father’s side since they were finally letting her. For the ti being, Leif decided that he would give her privacy. At least there weren’t tears actively falling out of her eyes at that mont. She could keep the handkerchief for as long as she needed.
The maids cleaned up the ss. What was once a room where everything seed to be covered in blood and many people working on saving the knight beca quiet and only Irene and her father were left.
She kneeled on the floor on his left side so she wouldn’t have to face what she didn’t want to face at that mont.
By that point it was certainly past her bedti and she fell into her father’s left arm, relishing in his warmth and relieved to feel that he was in fact still warm.
She held onto that comfort and dozed off for quite a long ti.
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