Gwen had to sink her teeth into her lip until she tasted blood, but she managed to turn what would’ve been a shriek of pain into a low groan. She wasn’t aware of passing out, but she did have to pause and breathe, waiting for the stars sparking in her eyes to fade. By the time she could properly see again, Olivia had pulled a number of things out of the satchel and spread them on the bed, and was dipping a linen cloth into the basin of water.

The cloth was icy cold on Gwen’s skin, somehow far more shocking than the pain of popping her shoulder back into place.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Olivia commanded severely as Gwen tried to flinch away. “The cold will help with the swelling.” She ran the cloth in a precise pattern around Gwen’s shoulder joint and down her arm, rinsing and wringing it out every few seconds to keep the fabric cold.

Gwen was watching Olivia’s arm move for quite a while before she realized her eyes had fixed on a faint, oddly shaped scar running down the edge of Olivia’s forearm and curving a few inches above her wrist.

“How long have you been Isobelle’s maid?” Gwen asked, keeping her voice light.

Olivia’s eyes stayed on her task. “Three years, give or take.”

“And before that? What did you do?”

Olivia’s eyes flicked toward hers. There was nothing in them to hint at surprise, or even discomfort. She merely smiled a little, turned her gaze back to her task, and murmured, “Why, are you thinking of hiring me yourself?”

Gwen ground her teeth. Every conversation she’d ever had with Olivia went the same way. Anything that had happened since she came to be Isobelle’s maid, she was perfectly willing to discuss. Anything prior to that . . . well, Olivia was as slippery as the last bit of soap on wash day.

“You must have had some experience working for a physician,” Gwen said, trying another tactic. “To know how to do what you just did with my shoulder.”

Olivia dropped the cloth into the basin, wrung it out, and slapped it back onto Gwen’s skin.

Gwen chewed at her lip. “Was that when you worked with Archer? When you devised some system of communication involving that owl token you gave Isobelle to show him?” Olivia did not flinch so much as take hold of Gwen’s shoulder and squeeze, sending a sharp stab of pain down her arm and causing Gwen to blurt, “Ow, son of a bitch!”

Olivia instantly released her and smoothed the palm of her hand across Gwen’s shoulder. “Keep your attention where it’s meant to be, Sir Gawain. I am a mystery for another time. Get Isobelle out of this mess, and then, if you are so desperate to find dragons to fight, you can keep searching for them in my past.”