"How is my injured knight doing?" Nefertari exclaimed as she grabbed a chair a pulled it towards the bed where Azar was lying.
"You said it," Azar groaned covering his face at the sudden light that entered the room when she got in. "Injured."
"You are still sleeping?" Nefertari frowned. "It's almost lunchtime, Azar."
"It's not that I've anything to do other than being injured for a while, princess," Azar said as he sighed, giving up on any hope of going back to sleep and sat up straight feeling the faint sting from his wound. He underestimated the wound and he realized that when he bled in the throne room, the feeling of being stitched while you are awake was something he would like to avoid.
"But seriously, you should take care of yourself or you might reopen the wound again, and you have two." She said helping him sit up.
He chuckled slowly. "It's almost as if we switched roles, the pharaoh won't be happy about this," he said.
