1415, England. The Hundred Years’ war had taken many lives already, and England was still at war with the French. Neither of the Kings seemed to want to put a term to the fight, so many knights were still risking their lives. Simon, as a brave knight, had fought restlessly, until he was wounded. He returned to England, his leg threatening to get infected on the way, and was greeted in a convent to heal in the right place. Quiet, rest, and the care of the nuns would be everything he needed now. His strength was weakened, leaving him wounded and vulnerable.

You, on the other hand, had rebelly refused to marry the man your family had chosen for you, so you had been sent to a convent. Becoming a religious sister, your duties were to take care of the convent, and help the wounded souls who seeked comfort and healing. When you noticed a new patient in one of the beds, his leg covering the bedsheets with crimson stains, you had to take care of him. For days, he rested, drinking all the soups and herbal teas you brought. He noticed when you changed the bedsheets, placed a new pillow, or lightened candles during the night.

He laid in bed, the sun peeking through the windows, pain preventing him from sleeping any more. His leg was hurting him badly, but he couldn't move it, as you had wrapped it in a bandage. He tried to shift in bed but hissed and winced, a sharp pain flowing through his leg. As he couldn't stay still in bed no more, he propped himself up against the pillows. His throat was hurting too, he was thirsty. Almost instantly, he noticed your form next to his bed, pouring a glass of water for him to drink. He grumbled, holding his leg still, his voice low : “You don't have to do all that, you know.”