Oh.

“This is fucking joke,” Alfie growled.

I swiftly looked away, lifted my hand toward the nurse and suggested, “How about we let these men have a chat?”

She rushed to me, beyond me, and out the door.

I glanced at True, who looked in danger of bursting with laughter, something that heartened me greatly, for I had had a few chuckles from him since we lost his mother, but not laughter, before I ducked my head and left the room, closing the door behind me.

The nurse was pacing the hall, and I realized, embarrassingly (as there had been a number of them), in the days that had passed since the incident, I had not learned her name.

She was one of three who attended Alfie, the only one he didn’t seem to be able to abide.

And now I was understanding why.

“I’m very sorry, I have not ever asked your name,” I said to her.

“Bronagh,” she choked out, still pacing, but she interrupted this to dip an awkward curtsy, only to take up pacing again.

I studied her a moment before noting, “I would assume, as you were given this duty, attending a personage as important as Sir Alfie, that you’ve had some amount of experience in your profession.”

“I-I studied at the Go’Da. In the Dome City. I-I did advanced studies in the healing arts. And I,” she swallowed…hard, “I’ve been at the Royal Service Infirmary for five years.”

“So I would assume,” I gestured to the door, “that has happened before. No?”

She ceased moving, her eyes floated to the door and she stared at it, not answering.

In fact, she stared at it seeming of a sudden caught in a daze.

“Bronagh,” I prompted.

She started and looked to me.

“I fear, my queen, that I must ask to be released from my duties attending Sir Alfie.”

I felt my brows inch together. “So, this has never happened before?”

“Not with…not with…”

She was unable to finish that.

“Not with?” I urged her to go on.

“A, uh…well, erm, not with…it isn’t…that is to say…”

After what we just saw, I was worried Alfie would demand True leave his room, king or not, and do it quickly, so I needed this conversation to carry on, even more quickly.

“You can speak freely with me,” I informed her.

Her eyes, huge in her face, a pretty face, with freckles, and they were pretty eyes, a warm brown, came to me.

“He’s very handsome,” she breathed.

I found myself yet again pressing my lips together, this time for a much different purpose.

I released them to agree, “Yes, he is.”

“I have never really…that is, with any other patient I have not—”

“Been attracted to them?” I inquired.

Her cheeks reddened again.

I moved closer to her and said softly, “It is not a surprise you’d be attracted to an attractive man.”

“It isn’t appropriate I go on attending him if I have, erm…feelings. That is to say, these types of feelings.”