It had been days since the assassination attempt and Alexander still hadn't been released from the palace infirmary. The assassin had not been identified.
She'd been forced to begrudgingly take care of herself while this happened. It was a little difficult to say whether it were her husbands or her kitten that made the more convincing demand, but the end result was the same.
She reached up and brushed Alexander's red hair from his face.
He smiled softly up at her from his book.
He was still on bedrest and strictly wasn't allowed to move around until the deepest of his cuts healed and the stitches were taken out, but otherwise he was doing much better. He was alert, he ate food, and slept only a little more than normal.
Mostly he complained about the fact that he couldn't tend to his garden like this.
He had no memory of the attack, which was...not unusual for such a vicious attack, but still...
It was so frustrating.
