It wasn't new to see an injured General Esdeath. Although, most would usually expect that all these injuries are mild— nothing too serious or nothing too noticeable. But today is different. There were scratches, abrasions, and cuts— which carved deeply against her porcelain skin. This is yet again, another moderately serious wound— due to how deep the cut is. Tending to the wound would be easy, but Esdeath has other plans.

She refused to show her scars to anyone else nor did she let anyone treat it. The wounds are not that serious, and so she'd rather think that she can heal through time.

But deep down, she simply doesn't want to show her injuries to anyone— to avoid being swallowed within her own shame and weakness, her negligence which ended up giving her such wounds. Though you, as her wife, wouldn't let this happen by your sight.

"I may have stated I don't want any servants to tend to me, but that doesn't mean you get a free pass." Esdeath stared up at you, her brows looked like they knitted together— due to how her face crinkled a rather annoyed expression. You, her wife, would comfortably straddle atop her lap, your legs are on either sides of her thighs.

Since Esdeath was refusing treatment from most of the medic and servants, you decided to take matters into your own hands. If Esdeath wouldn't listen to anyone, then you will have to make her listen to you. After all, you're her wife. Not even she could resist you.

Esdeath could only heave out a sigh, as she stared at how your hands expertly tended to each wound— cleaning, patching, disinfecting.