CHAPTER 15

Seeker was surprised by just how quickly Abbot Du Bois arrived at the gate. A tanned man approaching his seventieth summer, he was the very definition of aging well. He’d come running in mere moments after Seeker cast her spell to unlock the gate, with a poorly tied robe being the only thing bringing him any sort of modesty.

He was still a priest of Ishara, after all.

In one hand, he carried what Seeker assumed to be a wand, and around his neck he wore an amulet of Ishara in the traditional rose gold. It was, however, not a normal amulet. Ishara’s sigil was one of two pendants on the necklace, the other being a silver circle that hung independent of the sigil, and loosely framed it. The badge of office of an abbot. The most significant thing about him though, would be the frown on his face, which conveyed a mix of fear and anger at his lock and the spell upon it being sabotaged.

“What in all the divine realms is going on here?!” He demanded as he approached the gate.

Seeker crossed her arms. “Your cleaner did not think you would wish to speak with me, abbot.”

Du Bois’ expression lightened immediately. “Oh, Your Grace!” he happily said as he hastily stuffed his wand into one of the robe’s pockets. “It’s been far too long. Welcome, welcome! How may we serve you, Lady Seeker?”

“I told you he knows me,” she teased the cleaner, then returned her attention to the abbot. “I’ve come here for two reasons, Jean.” The older man’s expression turned curious at that, and Seeker pointed at the wagon. “I have a dear friend in my company, and she’s been gravely injured in my service. I have need of a room to tend to her while she recovers.”

“Of course, Your Grace! We are honored to host you.”

Seeker knew the man wanted to know what the second reason was, but would be far too polite to bring it up. And bringing it up would force a very difficult conversation in far from ideal circumstances, so she decided to leave it for later. She turned away from him, and stepped towards the carriage.

For a brief moment she stood there, looking at Lanri sleeping on her bench. She peeled away the layers of blankets, and looked on, uncertain of how to handle this. The pinkette priestess Lauren had helped her carry Lanri to the carriage, and after that, Ithella had helped her when she needed to maneuver the woman out of the carriage to relieve herself. Carrying Lanri alone was trivial, of course. Was trivial. Seeker had quickly discovered that every method she could think of to carry an unconscious person was a lot harder without the weight of both legs helping to pin them to her.

She considered asking the abbot for help, but decided against it. Instead, she leaned in, draped Lanri’s right arm over her shoulder, and picked her up like one would carry their new bride across the threshold, with her right leg closest to her. When she turned away from the carriage holding Lanri, the abbot was looking on with thinly disguised interest. “I would ask that you have one of your acolytes find a safe place for our carriage,” she told him. She had the most valuable things within on her person already, but the vehicle itself, and the animals pulling it in particular needed to be sheltered.

“I will see to it once I’ve shown you to your room, Your Grace,” the abbot quickly replied, then gave the cleaner a pointed look. “Watch it until I return, Ivy.”

“Right,” came a flippant acknowledgement as Seeker walked past her, and followed Du Bois inside, into the pristine white building.

________________

The inside of the monastery was nicer than the outside. Elaborate mosaic floors depicting Ishara throughout the centuries lined every corridor, and bowls of slowly burning incense filled the building with the sweet smoke associated with shrines and temples. The walls were made of large stone blocks, and on their second row from the top, every tenth was enchanted and glowed brightly enough to illuminate the entire space with defuse, white light. It gave the effect of an overcast summer day, with very little in the way of shadows being visible anywhere. She could hear there were quite a lot of people about, but somehow they never actually passed anyone.

Abbot Du Bois led her through those long, pristine hallways, up several flights of stairs, into a narrower, quieter corridor. This one had a mosaic floor, too, though it did not depict Ishara. Instead, it had the sigils of every one of the Heartwardens laid into it in a long, curvy line. She knew every single one of them personally, and quite well at that.

It always surprised her just how many of them there actually were.

Mischief, Adora, Consort, Casseil, Fetch… Even her own was in there, far down the chain. Looking down at Lanri, she briefly wondered how many of their names had crept into her mind from her time with the dress, which seemed to still be changing her ever so slowly, if her dreams these last few days were any indication. She sighed. She was utterly delighted her duties gave her a reason to pay such close attention to the mortal, but at the same time, there being an obligation to it tainted it a little bit.

“May I ask who she is, Your Grace?” Asked the abbot, pulling her attention back to the present. “The way you look at her. She must be very dear to you.”

Seeker smiled. “Oh, yes. She is that, and more. I will tell you more about her in due time, but first, I would ask that you take us to our room.”

“Of course, lady Seeker.” Du Bois pointed ahead, at a spot where the hallway widened into something akin to a round antechamber before narrowing again and continuing. There were no doors separating it from the rest of the corridor, but the few felt-covered chairs that lined the curved walls made it clear that it was definitely a space in its own right. As they got closer, Seeker could see a door in either alcove, and when they got there, the abbot stopped, and opened one of the doors for her. Beyond lay a pristine room that smelled dusty.

“This doesn’t get much use, does it?” Asked Seeker as she stepped inside. A single, almost parodically large bed stood in the center of the carpeted room, with its headboard against one of the walls. On either side of it, there were large windows looking out onto Cerene’s roofs, and two doors, both of which were open.

“Not really, Your Grace,” admitted the abbot. “We rarely get visitors of a station anywhere close to warranting our prime suite.”

Seeker smiled and approached the bed. She put Lanri on it, on top of the elaborate sheets. From by the bed, she could see into both of the open doorways. One of them led to a stone-finished bathroom. Inside, a large bronze bathtub stood invitingly. There was a drain, as one would expect, but she could see no plumbing to get water in. She suspected that if she wanted to make use of it, it would mean demanding a great amount of labor from the monastery’s staff to fill it. Beyond the bathtub, there were stone benches and tables lining the walls, set with empty ewers, wash basins, and expensive looking soaps and razors. She only saw one wooden piece of furniture, and guessed it was a commode. Everything even the most entitled visitor could ask for from an en-suite bathroom.

The opposite door led to a shrine. It was primarily devoted to Ishara, but not exclusively so. With a modestly sized, but remarkably beautiful rose gold statue of her current likeness in the center, the shrine had less impressive depictions of the other gods as well, arranged symmetrically on either side.

“This will be perfect, Jean, thank you,” Seeker told the abbot. “Please, tell me where I might find you later.”

“My suite is just across the hall from this one. When I’m not there, I will be in the halls below.”

“Very well. That will be all then, abbot,” said Seeker as she sat down on the bed by Lanri’s side, and consciously stopped enforcing her will that she be asleep. It would take the young woman a while to wake up naturally, though, and Seeker intended to let her. “Oh, one more thing,” she quickly added.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Please send someone to find some crutches for her. Quite short ones.”

The abbot gave an understanding smile. “Of course.”

________________

Lanri had dreamt about everything, and nothing. She dreamt about vanquishing her enemies, and about seducing lovers. She dreamt about mundane things from the past, like a night in bed with Faron, or his funeral, and she dreamt about fantastic possibilities for the future, like exploring the world with Seeker by her side, to do as they must. She dreamt about learning impossible things, and accomplishing fantastic feats.

She dreamt about killing Gorance. She dreamt every possible outcome of that. From everyone fleeing before her, to it backfiring and him ending her in a fit of rage.

But most of all, she had dreamt about rules. Rules she had always understood, but could never, ever articulate. Rules about what she was for, what was expected of her by the gods, and the world itself. Rules of her own morality and her own sense of justice, each of them perfectly true, yet impossible to repeat.

Rules that, when she remembered them, would come to define her.

But now, the dreams were fading. She crept ever closer to waking up, beginning to hear and feel and smell the world around her, but not yet consciously aware of it. She felt heat next to her, and the room she was in was unpleasantly bright. She was a little chilly, and felt around for a blanket. A big, dark cloth would solve both of her current problems. But there wasn’t one she could easily pull free. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, hoping to find something to wrap herself up in. Instead, she found Seeker, laying next to her, watching her intently.

Her face was inscrutable. Lanri wasn’t sure if she looked happy, or sad, or angry. She’d been worried Seeker would be angry at her, she faintly remembered, and she decided to follow that string. The thread of recollection led her to– “The auction!” She blurted out, as she found her memory and her heart sank. “Y–you were hurt, a–and he… He… The Abanian, he-”

Seeker reached a hand out, and stroked Lanri’s cheek as she cooed “ssshhhh,” at her. “That’s all over, Dear. We’re safe, now.”

That did little to put her at ease. She’d been paraded out onto a stage like a gem to be sold, and nobody had tried to help her. She felt violated, and furious. They’d all just sat there, in that fucking auditorium, and been complicit to evil. And she’d been angry at them, but most of all, she’d been scared. Just thinking about it now made her chest tight, and sped up her breathing. Even with Seeker’s spell to calm her, she’d felt like she had no options, nowhere to go. She’d cut Gorance down once she no longer believed there was any way things could get worse. Then, in her fit of hopelessness, she’d used Seeker’s sword to…

“I broke my wand…” She realized, giving voice to it with a quivering crack in her voice.

Seeker sadly nodded, and pulled Lanri in for a tight hug, which she numbly let happen. “I’m so sorry,” Seeker quietly whispered into her ear as she started to cry. Seeker raised her voice a little to remain audible, and kept talking, gently stroking Lanri’s hair as she did so..“And I’m so, so grateful. And so, so proud of you.”

Lanri clenched Seeker’s shirt in her hands, and leaned in closer as she sobbed. “I–I didn’t see any way out anymore! I thought I’d be used t–to ruin you! T–they would have–”

Seeker nodded, and Lanri felt her place a kiss on her forehead. “I know,” she solemnly said. “I’m sorry. It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t!” she squeezed Seeker tightly, digging in with her nails. “I was terrified! You don’t know what that’s like, Seeker! You’re a Heartwarden, y–you wield the power of a fucking god. You don’t–”

“Yes, I do!” Spat Seeker, who pulled away, and glared at her. “Of course I know what it’s like to be terrified, Lanri! You were scared you were going to die, or be enslaved, and so was I! I’ve spent weeks now, protecting you, growing fond of you, loving you. I was terrified! I thought I was watching you kill yourself!”

“What?” Asked Lanri, quietly. She leaned a little closer, and took hold of Seeker again. “You were… scared?”

“Of course I was, Dear.” Seeker took Lanri’s hand, and pressed it to her chest as her features softened into that familiar, gentle smile that bordered on pity. “I thought… when I woke up, I thought I was watching your last moments, and hearing your last thoughts. And that scared me. I know you better than you can possibly imagine, better than you know yourself. What I saw and felt on that stage will haunt me forever, either way. I’ll never get it out of my head. But if that had been the end? I don’t think I would have overcome that.”

Lanri sighed. She hadn’t realized Seeker was even capable of being scarred like that. “I… I’m sorry,” she eventually said. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just wanted to protect you.”

“And you did, Dear,” Seeker assured her. “One of the priests told me about what you did. That you struck Gorance down to protect me, and that you” – she stroked Lanri’s cheek, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture made Lanri check the back of her head on instinct for her brooch, and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding when she felt it – “held off those idiot guards.”

“Not just them,” Lanri said as she recalled it. The fae had been there too. As had Sheep. They’d been so close to her when she cut the wand, she remembered. “Are they–”

“Yes,” Seeker said, seemingly to keep her from having to finish the sentence.

I killed them.

The thought – nay, knowledge that she’d killed people… It disgusted her. She felt bile rise up in her throat. Seeker put a hand on her shoulder, but Lanri could see there was a bathroom on the other side of the room. She threw the cover to one side, shook Seeker’s hand off, and got out of the bed as quickly as she could.

But instead of standing up, she didn’t.

She started to collapse inexplicably, and the world seemed to slow down as it had when she’d eaten the currants, but this time it wasn’t pleasant. Nothing was pleasant. A penetrating dread filled her chest, and spread out from there. It made its way down into her guts, which seemed to twist into a knot all at once. And it made its way up into her head, a vile mix of vertigo and tunnel vision that numbed her thoughts for a moment.

She heard Seeker’s voice, felt her cast a spell. There was a rush of air, and Seeker’s shadow moved impossibly fast across the walls. A moment later, hands hooked under either of Lanri’s arms, and Seeker caught her with a grunt. They both landed on the carpeted floor with a thud Lanri was barely aware of. She tried pushing herself off, up onto her feet, but only one of them actually felt the floor when she did so. Her breathing sped up, taking deep panicked gasps.

She tried to scramble away from it. From this deep, gut-wrenching sense of wrong. From her own foot, which was… “G–GONE!” She blurted out, as she kept trying to get away from herself, and pushed herself into Seeker’s lap in a futile attempt to push through her, to somehow escape.

“I know,” came a calm voice in her left ear.

She kept taking her miserable gasps as a numb tingle started in her fingers, and the world got darker. It was impossible to think, all she could do was kick, and punch, and scream. “I–I–IT’S FUCKING–”

Strong arms grabbed her wrists, and forced them together, folding them up against her chest. She wanted to demand what Seeker was doing, to hit her for choosing now of all gods-forsaken times to do… whatever the fuck she was doing. But she couldn’t get the words together. She kicked Seeker’s foot with her good leg as a substitute as she spat out the word “GONE!” Again.

“I know,” whispered Seeker again, or maybe it wasn’t a whisper, and just sounded quiet, lost in the… The haze. One of Seeker’s hands wrapped around both of Lanri’s wrists, and pushed Lanri into herself. The other hand briefly disappeared from the world, until it suddenly appeared at the back of her head, and pulled the metal clasp free. She could only barely see it fly across the room, and felt her hair fall loosely against Seeker.

A moment later that same free hand appeared, pushing a wad of Seeker's own red hair against her mouth and nose. All she wanted was to be let go, for this to stop. It sent a heinous reminder of Mick pinning her down and forcing dazeweed into her mouth into her head, and she hated it. The memory bounced through her numbed mind, only abating when Seeker said “breathe.”

Lanri obeyed. Partially because controlling her breathing enough to hold it seemed nigh impossible, but mostly because she knew Seeker wanted her to. She breathed in, through Seeker’s fingers and hair. What she breathed in barely felt like air. It seemed to displace the dread in her chest, and forced the visceral sense of wrongness away. That amazing smell of peace and passion and love poured into her through her lungs, and she relaxed.

“That’s my girl,” purred Seeker as she let Lanri’s wrists go, and she distantly felt her arms drop limply to her side. “Slowly and deeply, Dear.”

Lanri did so, taking several breaths in and out. As she did so, the tingling in her arms faded, and slowly, her vision cleared up. She slumped into Seeker, and sighed. She had… thoughts. They were in there somewhere, but every breath she took made them less important to her, made everything less important to her.

“That helped,” Seeker observed with relief, plain to hear in her voice. Gods, what a voice. She would pin it down and kiss it if she could. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Dear.”

“I know. I wouldn’t know how to tell me, either,” came Lanri’s slow response. Thinking clearly wasn’t easy at the best of times with Seeker smelling like this. But after such a bout of distress, learning one bad thing after another, it left her dulled. It left her feeling like she’d spent all day studying, then crying.

“It was worth it, though,” Seeker said with a lightly strained voice as she maneuvered herself and Lanri back a few paces, and presumably found something to lean against. “By Daray, am I proud of you.”

That caught Lanri off guard, and she forced down a giggle from the unexpected praise. “You are?”

“Of course. And grateful, Dear. So grateful. You sacrificed a lot for me, to keep me safe. I just wish I’d been able to do the same.” Seeker sounded melancholy. She very well might have, if Lanri’d just stuck to her instructions.

“But I disobeyed you again,” Lanri said, shamefully. She took another deep breath, savoring what Seeker smelled like, and was relieved when it banished the sense of shame outright.

“You did,” considered Seeker. “But I’m not angry. Not one bit.”

“You aren’t?”

“I’m not. I was furious in the moment. But that was before I learned what happened. If anyone other than that Abanian trash had won, I might still be angry. But I can only expect you to fight your instincts for so long, even at my behest. I know how scared of him you were. Gods, I was scared of him, too. Not anymore, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that elven priestess? The one with the dark skin?”

Lanri nodded. Of course she remembered her.

“Well, she isn’t just any priestess. She’s one of Daray’s Touched.” Lanri got the distinct sense that she knew what Seeker was implying, but it was just too difficult right now. She was too fatigued, and Seeker clearly knew it. “She doesn’t show mercy to her enemies, Dear. Our enemies, now.”

Someone else she’d killed, then, she realized. “That’s a pity. I… didn’t want to kill anyone. I… I did want them dead, but I didn't want to kill them.” She noticed she was slurring her words a bit. “I just wanted them to leave us alone.”

Seeker put a kiss on the back of her head, and there was a long pause. “I… I know you didn't, Dear. It’s okay. It happened, and now it’s over.”

Lanri glanced down. She’d managed to avoid it before, without consciously thinking about it. She looked down at her legs on the carpeted floor. At her left one, which looked as it always had, and then at her right, which only filled her pants’ leg three fourths of the way. Even through the miasma of Seeker’s aura, it sent a pang of loss through her. She wasn’t a hostage anymore, but this would never be over.

“Keep breathing. Making you feel calm is what it’s for.”

She took a deep breath as ordered, despite not really wanting to. Like she had at the stage in Gorance’s mansion, she did not want to be okay with this. Regardless of her wishes, the wave of good feelings came, and made it easier to look at.

“I tried my very best to repair it, Dear. I spent so, so long cradling you, trying to make you whole again. But I… I just couldn’t do it.”

Lanri rubbed one of Seeker’s thighs, and patted it to reassure her. “I know you did, Seeker.”

“I don’t know if you do, Dear. I really… You’re my responsibility. Mine to heal.”

Lanri heard shame in Seeker’s voice. Defeat. With some effort, she flipped herself over, moving to straddle Seeker, instead of sitting in her lap. It wasn’t easy to find the leverage with her… her foot… missing, but she managed it. She looked at Seeker, at her beautiful blue eyes, and the sad expression on her face. She leaned in, and kissed her on the forehead.

“It’s okay,” she promised as she wobbled a little, and Seeker pulled her into a hug, probably as much to stabilize her as out of need. Lanri giggled a bit when she was pressed into the nape of Seeker’s neck, and breathed in again. “I would have paid a heavier price to free us, or even just you, if I had to.”

“I know, but… you just… You shouldn’t have had to, Dear. Gorance took so much from you.”

Lanri broke the hug, and giggled again. “I wish I had an aura, too. That I could make you feel better just by holding you like this.”

“Oh, Lanri,” sighed Seeker. “You do make me feel better.”

Before Lanri could think about a response to that, there came a knock at the room’s door. Her head snapped up, and she asked, “who’s that?”

“A friend, Dear,” Seeker assured her quietly, and Lanri could feel the influence of Seeker’s aura lessen slightly, allowing a hint of the dread about her leg to creep back into her mind. “You can come in!”

The doorknob turned, and Lanri watched with interest as the door swung open to reveal an elderly man in a white robe, wearing a decorated medallion of Ishara around his neck. He had a soft smile on his face, a familiar smile, and held a bundle in his arms, wrapped in rough cloth.

I think I know him.

Seeker gave her a curious look, then turned her attention to the man. “Thank you, Abbot. Your timing is impeccable.”

“Your Grace,” said the man, or rather, abbot, as he stepped into their room, and placed the bundle on the bed. It clattered slightly as he did so. Lanri squinted at him, trying to place him. He was so, so familiar. He seemed to notice, because the next thing he said was “Is something the matter, child?”

“I know you,” Lanri said as Seeker tapped her on the shoulder. Lanri turned to look at her, and she gestured that she should get off of her, onto the bed. Lanri did her best, rising to sit on the bed with Seeker’s help.

The man eyed her, curiously. “You do?”

Lanri nodded, and kept trying to place the man, pushing through the haze of stress and fatigue to recall who he was to her.

“I think that’s the dress’ influence on you talking, Dear,” Seeker whispered in her ear as she joined her in sitting on the bed.

Lanri snapped her head around to look at her. “No, it isn’t!” she insisted. “I’ve met him.” She turned back to look at him. “I’ve met you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t recall,” said the man with a pitying look.

“It doesn’t matter much, Jean–”

“Jean Du Bois!” Said Lanri, interrupting Seeker. Now she remembered. “You were the priest who taught us about Ishara, when I was a teenager!”

The abbot considered that, then nodded. “That… That could be it, yes,” he said. “I haven’t done that in… Oh, must be fifteen years, though. Such a small world.”

A small world indeed, Lanri realized as she thought about it. There weren’t a lot of monasteries close to the village she’d grown up in. Only one in the same parish. She turned away from him, to look at one of the huge windows, and the city beyond it. She got up, and was grateful when Seeker immediately did the same, and helped her to it. As she looked out of the window, a painfully familiar sight greeted her. A small city, with bamboo groves all around it.

“Where have you taken me?” She asked, nay, demanded of Seeker as she grabbed the Heartwarden by the scruff of her shirt.

“The closest safe place, Dear,” Seeker replied with a bewildered look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Y–you took me to Cerene!” Lanri yelled, and she felt her breathing speed up again. “I– I can’t be here!”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Yes I am!” Insisted Lanri. “This monastery. It’s built up against the baron’s palace.”

“It is,” agreed Seeker.

“Baron Armitage Vattens, Seeker! My father-in-law! A noble ass who Faron and I spent a decade avoiding."

Seeker frowned. "You're joking. He rules Cerene?"

"You're the widow Lanri Vattens?" Asked the abbot.

Seeker rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Thank you, abbot. That will be all," she said, and gestured at the door. If nothing else, Lanri appreciated Seeker was getting rid of him. The abbot obediently bowed, and showed himself out.

Lanri turned away from the window. "Help me back to the bed?"

Seeker smiled, and nodded. As they made their way back, she spoke. "Why is this guy such a problem, Dear? You've never mentioned him before."

Lanri let out a sigh as she dropped onto the bed. Just moving to the window, standing there, and coming back had her out of breath. "He… thinks he's entitled to my stuff. After Faron died, I got a letter demanding I sell our apartment and send him part of the proceeds. The magistrates of Astoria told him to stuff it several times, but… the magistrates of Astoria aren't here to enforce that ruling."

"Talk about squeezing blood from a stone," said Seeker as she joined Lanri on the bed.

"Oh. It gets better," said Lanri. "He thinks it's the dowry I owe him. That there's an actual debt."

Seeker snorted. "That's absurd. You didn't even get married in his domain. You never lived at his expense."

"Exactly! That's what I told–" She paused as what Seeker had said dawned on her. "How do you know that?"

"You and Faron swore to Ishara and Brawna in your vows, Dear. I'm far from omniscient, but I know that. I have to."

Lanri was puzzled. "You're telling me you know the vows of every married couple?"

"Oh, gods, no!" Said Seeker, dismissively. "But I know yours."

Obviously, Lanri wanted to know how, if only out of scientific curiosity. She quirked an eyebrow at Seeker.

"I haven't been by your side the entire time since I met you, Dear. After I first found you, and I took you home, I left for a while. I told you that."

"You did," agreed Lanri.

"Well, I asked Ishara to tell me what they were."

"Before I told you I'd been married?"

"Oh, give me some credit! It didn't take a grand intellect to deduce you'd been with someone. The messy apartment, the bundles of men's clothes stuffed out of view, the second pair of slippers when I was looking for yours… So, while you were asleep that first night, I checked. I can't just go around inspiring people to break their oaths."

“I guess I am pretty easy to read,” Lanri admitted, as a sense of pride swelled in her. Seeker had told her before she’d been interested in her since the very moment they met, and it being reiterated made it no less sweet.

“Easy to read as a compelling book, Dear. At least to me.” Seeker leaned away from Lanri, and towards the foot of the bed. She picked up the clattering bundle, and put it in her lap. “Speaking of reading you, I know you won’t like these very much. But you’re going to need them, at least until I can provide something better.”

Lanri looked at the bundle in Seeker’s lap. On one end, it was a lot narrower than on the other. “Crutches?” She guessed, then thought about it, and frowned. “Well, no. I’ll need those forever, won’t I? What is this, then?”

“You had it right the first time,” Seeker assured her. She unwrapped the bundle of rough cloth, and inside there were indeed two bamboo crutches. They were simple looking things. Two chutes of Bamboo set into a narrow Y-shape, with one brace to grab onto, and one to lean on, higher up. “These are only temporary, Dear, I promise. We’ll find you something better in no time.”

“Uh-huh,” said Lanri, skeptically. She swallowed as she looked at the crutches in Seeker’s lap, and picked one of them up. It weighed almost nothing, she quickly noticed. But when she tried to bend it, she found she couldn’t.

“Rest for a while, Dear. Then… I guess we’ll try to get you walking with these.”