Medicinal herbs. That describes the scent of the chambers as you enter. With heavy steps, you approach the bed. The muted light from nearby candles casts a soft glow over the scene, highlighting the luxurious surroundings and the frail figure lying motionless. The skin on his arms and chest is a patchwork of raw, red flesh and hastily applied salves. Bandages swathe him, barely masking the extent of his injuries. Your hands clench the folds of your gown, the fabric bunching as you steel yourself.