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Caspian poked his head through the doorway of the healer’s shoppe. “Hey, Lu? I could use your help,” he called.
The shoppe had a dusty, herbal, floral scent from all the bunches of plants hung from the ceiling. He’d found it confusing and overwhelming at first. Now, probably because Caspian associated the scent with Lucy, he found it comforting.
“Don’t cry wolf, Cas, I know you never—” Lucy stopped short as she came around the corner. The bottle of “potion” she carried dropped from her grip, shattering on the floor at her feet. “What did you do?” She stepped over the glass shards and leaned close, examining the bloody spot on the front of his tunic.
“Just a fencing accident. It’s no big deal, really.” He already felt a bit embarrassed coming to her for real medical treatment when it was barely more than a scratch, but rules were rules, and he really had bled through his shirt.
“Fencing accident?” Lucy frowned at him. “Don’t you guys wear protective clothing?”
Caspian made a face. “Okay, so I was actually getting a spare sword from the closet and didn’t want to bother turning the light on. And I may have fallen into a rack of swords.”
Lucy clapped her hands over her mouth, though it was clearly to muffle a laugh rather than out of shock. “Oh dear. Well, come in.” She stepped out of his way, grabbing a broom and sweeping the glass under the table. At Caspian’s raised eyebrow, she said, “Well, you’re more important than some shattered glass!”
“It’s just a scratch,” Caspian said, leading the way into the back room, though he couldn’t help smiling.
“Fencers,” Lucy snorted, but Caspian could hear the smile in her voice. “Sit. Please.”
Caspian settled onto the table, crossing his legs at the ankle and letting them swing back and forth.
Lucy busied herself getting sterile gauze, medical tape, and antibiotic, partially to avoid Caspian’s gaze. The bloody patch was on his pec, and knowing how inflexible their uniform tunics were, he was absolutely going to have to take off his shirt.
Lucy hated feeling like she was in a cheesy rom-com.
(Well, hated how much she loved it, maybe.)
She turned back around and cleared her throat. “Okay. What’s the damage?”
Caspian sighed and tried to pull the neckline of his tunic down, but it wouldn’t go far enough. “Sorry.” He reached behind his head and pulled his tunic off by the collar. Why did that look so much cooler than the way Lucy always took her shirts off?
Any awkwardness she felt about trying her best not to ogle Caspian’s bare chest vanished when she caught sight of his injury.
“Tell me if it hurts,” she said, wiping away the blood with a clean cloth.
“It’s fine. It’s just—”
“—a scratch, I know.” Lucy poked her tongue out as she wiped the cloth directly over the cut. She could see Caspian wince out of the corner of her eye.
Technically, he was right. The cut wasn’t particularly deep, just long, and it definitely looked less serious without all the blood. Still, she wanted to be careful. Once all the blood was off, she gently disinfected the whole thing and patted it dry.
Since it would be hidden by his tunic, she was free to use modern bandages without covering them up with something old-timey looking. She cut a rectangle of gauze and pressed it to the cut.
“Would you mind holding that, please?” Lucy asked, already turning to get the medical tape.
Caspian had seen Lucy working her first-aid magic on people before, but this was the first time she was working on him. It hit him again just how professional and efficient she was, how kind and thorough. He knew she’d make a fantastic doctor someday soon.
He held the gauze to his chest with one hand, lowering his gaze as she turned back to him and pressed medical tape over the gauze. Her fingers were gentle but firm on his bare skin.
All too soon, she stepped away from him, looking critically at her work. “How’s that?”
“Good! Fine,” he amended, looking down at the swath of tape.
“Good.” She smiled at him, crossing her arms and leaning back against the countertop. “Do you have a spare tunic?”
Caspian made a face. “All my other ones are in the wash.”
Lucy lifted his tunic off the bench. Beside being blood-stained, the sword had actually torn a long, thin line in the fabric. “You probably shouldn’t wear that back.”
“No,” he agreed, suppressing a smile.
“Wouldn’t want guests thinking anyone’s actually getting hurt here.”
“No.”
Lucy put his tunic down and went to rummage in a rucksack. “I normally bring a spare,” she explained over her shoulder, “but I think I loaned it to Sarah this morning…”
She stood up and turned to face Caspian, hands on her hips. “Y’know what, I’m done in an hour. Want to switch shirts?”
“Are you sure?”
Lucy nodded. “I’ve got some safety pins. I can hold it together for a bit. And who could blame the healer for some blood on their shirt?”
“Thanks, Lu.” Caspian smiled at her.
“No problem.” She ducked into the little bathroom. “Toss me your shirt?”
Caspian balled up his tunic and threw it into the open bathroom door.
“Thanks!”
Caspian caught his breath at the sight of Lucy in his tunic. The red looked great against her blonde hair. It wasn’t as big on her as he might have expected, just a relaxed fit. With the blood on her shirt, she looked even more like a healer than she had a moment before, when she’d looked so focused and careful. Plus, there was something about seeing her in his shirt.
“How do I look?” she asked cheekily, spinning around to show off the full effect of the sweaty, bloody tunic paired with her clean hose.
“Fantastic,” he said, perhaps a little too fervently, but she just smiled and handed him her tunic. Suddenly conscious of still being shirtless, he pulled it over his head, taking in the herbal scent of the healer’s shoppe and something clean and fruity that must be Lucy’s deodorant.
Lucy had to look away as Caspian put on her shirt. But she looked back when he was fully dressed and held out both arms to the side, showing off just as she had a second before.
“And how do I look?” he asked.
Um. “Good,” Lucy said, swallowing and turning away to throw away the gauze trimmings. Her tunic was a little tight on him, emphasizing his toned chest and arms. The white fabric brought out his summer tan.
“Good. Thanks again, Lu.” He lightly touched her upper arm, letting his hand linger, and she turned back to look at him.
“No problem, Cas.” She smiled and whacked his shoulder. “Now get going! You don’t wanna be late!”
“No, I suppose I don’t.” He hopped off the table and headed out the door. Just before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting her eyes.
She could only hope she wasn’t turning as red as the borrowed tunic.