Elon’s gaze slid to her blood-stained thumb. His brow plummeted in concern as he rushed to her side and cradled her hand between his. “You’re hurt.” He glanced up at her mother. “Do you have any clean water I could use?”
Her mother jutted her chin towards the window. “Outside. There’s a well.”
Elon tugged on her wrist and lead her outside. Though the air was cooling as the daylight waned, it was a relief in contrast to her mother’s presence. Yellow threads of grass crunched beneath her feet before Elon stopped at the stone well.
He released her hand to crank the handle, and water sloshed below. “You’re hurt.”
The blood on her thumb was already crusting on her skin, but without Elon’s healing, it’d never close, and the wound could be reopened with slight pressure. “You’ve already said that.”
“I wasn’t referring to your thumb this time.” With a final grunt, he turned the crank one last time before grabbing the bucket, pulling it over the edge, and setting it on the ground. He turned towards her. “Your mother?”
He’d known her for—how long? This would be the end of the fourth day, wasn’t it? “How do you already know me so well?”
He smiled. “I’m your husband. It’s my duty and privilege to know you well enough to attend your needs.”
Guilt pricked her. And after four days, she still felt like she knew little about him. Though that was likely her fault. She’d had as many opportunities to observe him as he’d had to observe her.
He knelt by the bucket and cupped a pool of water between his palms. “Your mother?”
“Yes. She’s upset with me. Though with everything I’ve put her through, I understand that. I just want her to forgive me—and tell me that she accepts and loves me no matter what.” Her laugh was more breath than noise. “That doesn’t seem likely at this point.”
Elon rose and dribbled the water over her thumb, and droplets slid down her hand. “You always have my forgiveness.”
Her eyebrows rose as she held up her thumb. “Your forgiveness? It’s my mother I’ve offended.”
“As King, whenever an offense is committed against one of my people, it’s technically committed against me as well.” His thumb swept across hers, and the skin seamed itself back together.
Awe cascaded through her, leaving warmth in its wake. Blood swelled on Elon’s thumb, and she caught her breath—that’s right; she’d forgotten about that part. “You must spend a lot of time being offended.”
Her words brought a faint smile to his lips. Once his own thumb had healed, he knelt and rinsed the dried blood off. “I forgive easily.”
“Do you forgive me, then?”
He stood and washed the blood from her hand as well. “Of course. So long as you want my forgiveness, you’ll always have it.” He paused for a beat before lowering his lips to the pad of her thumb. With her wet skin, his lips glided to her palm before settling over her wrist.