There was a pregnant pause. Slowly, but unmistakably, Silas reluctantly nodded.
Horror entered Prince Nathaniel and Sirona's eyes, and they immediately scuttled back a few steps. Silas found it to be very unfair. "Not by choice!" he exclaimed, frantically waving his hands to calm them down. "His blood dripped into my mouth by accident! It tasted disgusting too, like a rotting body."
"How would you know what rotting bodies taste like?" Prince Nathaniel asked suspiciously.
"That's a figure of speech," Silas complained. "And aren't you supposed to be healing me? I feel like I'm treated like a criminal."
"You don't have any wounds," Sirona pointed out, her hand glowing a bright purple as she waved it over his body as a form of preliminary diagnosis.
