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Summary
He sticks out his tongue to show the mass of red and white pulp. “S’not ideal, but it’ll help with the bleeding until we can get you tended to properly.”
Henry settles between Hans' legs, jaw working as he lifts the blood-soaked bandage. “Don’t make a face. It’s nearly as good as a mortar and pestle.”
“I don’t doubt you’ve got teeth.” Hans wrinkles his nose as Henry sticks another pinch of chamomile petals into his cheek. “I’m just worried about catching something.”
Henry rolls his eyes.
“If my mouth’s good enough for the baker’s daughter, it’ll serve you just fine.”
***
Hans comes to appreciate the aroma of the lower class, or one particular member.Day 1: Flowers