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Saeryn tried to smile and grimaced instead. How strange, that the old wound should be aching so. It was like a stitch in the side, as one gets when they run after eating, only it was worse. She relinquished her hand to Eodwine and looked back at his concerned face as he asked, “How are you really?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said honestly. “I’m sure it will pass, really. I shouldn’t have done it - it was that climbing that killed me, you know?” Her smile strengthened itself as the sharp pain began to ebb. She lightened the pressure of her arm around her waist and pressed at the scar gingerly with her fingers.
“Don’t let me keep you from the games!” she exclaimed suddenly, looking up and still seeing Eodwine’s and Rowenna’s worried faces hovering above her. “I promise I will be well. And if you keep standing about gawking, you’ll have the whole place about my ears, and then what?” She smiled, a genuine smile this time, and almost winked at Rowenna.
In all truthfulness, she was a little worried. By now, she thought, she should be quite recovered. As soon as she had come to Scarburg, they had begun tending her with the best care anyone could offer, and the wound had healed rapidly. Now it was all but a scar, with a few, superficial scabs. But on chilly nights it ached, and now, with this extra effort, it hurt, sharp and then dull and deep, and then sharp again. Although the pain was now going away and she almost felt entirely well, she could not help but wonder if trouble would continually rise from this old cut.
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