It was easy to forget how oppressive hospitals were, especially when one wasn't used to being the patient. Confined to a bed, life and care in the hands of complete strangers. The sounds of the sick and dying. The smells of blood and refuse and cleaner.

After Josiah found her, Zinobia needn't worry about sickness or injury, much less landing herself in the hospital. The last time she'd gotten sick was months before their encounter. She'd caught a cold from a paediatric patient. That had put her on her back for a solid week. Vittoria, who was all of ten at the time, had to bring her warm towels, soup and medicine. Thank goodness she'd taught the girl how the stove worked.

Now, as she lied semi-conscious, surrounded by groans of the sick and dying and recounting the events that got her there, she wondered if she could ever survive without Josiah's healing magic. She finally cracked eyes and squinted at the glaring fluorescent light over her head.

She recognised the off white ceiling and green partitions of Serenity Lake's infirmary. Heavy curtains blocked her view of fellow patients, but didn't silence their moans or laboured breathing. She hadn't been up here in quite some time. There was no time to, when the special ward kept her so busy.

"Ah, you're awake."

Zinobia turned her head and found Doctor Theo seated beside her bed with a clipboard and pen in hand. She tried to speak, but her throat was so dry only a rasp came out.

"You gave us all quite the scare, my dear. Especially Lord Ashbourne. He's been in here every day, snooping around, getting in my damn way, asking the same incessant questions." Theo wheeled over to her head and shined a light in her eyes. "Your daughter has stopped by regularly as well. Nice young lady."

She swallowed a few times and finally found her voice. "How long has it been?"

"Three days now. You're very lucky that you walked away with only a few cracked ribs." Theo lowered his light and began scribbling on his board again.

"Are Victor and Alex alright?" She winced as she remembered the demon tossing them around Roland's gallery like a child's toy.

"They're home resting and recovering. Young, strong boys like them will be back on their feet in no time. Henry, however, suffered a pretty bad head injury. His family had been quiet about his condition."

Zinobia closed her eyes and exhaled, and a pinprick of pain ran up and down her back. At least no one was badly hurt, or worse. She couldn't imagine how Roland felt having his party ruined like that. It was probably all over the papers, too. Especially the tabloids; they'd be milking this drama for weeks.

"I have other patients I need to check on, but I'll tell the nurse to bring you something to drink." Theo hung the clipboard on the wall and disappeared around the curtain.

When he was out of earshot, she braced her hands against the bed and tried to push herself up, but pain exploded in her side and she doubled over onto the bedding with a groan.

My apologies, Josiah said. Everyone saw you fall from that balcony. I couldn't heal you all the way, but I took care of the worst of it.

I see. I suppose I'll have to keep this up for a while longer. Knowing Theo, he won't let me out of here until I'm strong enough to wrestle an ox. The nurse stepped in and left a glass of juice on her bedside table. It was then she noticed the string of wooden beads with the little plaque on the end.

Had she still been holding it during her tussle with Henry? Everything happened so fast, and her memory was still foggy. Even so, Roland should've taken it back. He'd clearly left it out on the balcony by mistake.

If that's what helps you sleep at night, Josiah teased. And speak of the devil.

Roland came around the curtain with his jacket draped over his arm. His hair was unkempt, flyaways falling into his face, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bruised. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was a demon.

He quietly took the seat Theo had vacated. "How are you feeling, Lady Bloodletter?"

"I've been better," she answered with a shrug. "According to Theo, it's just a few cracked ribs. Which hurts but, I'll be fine."

He raked a hand through his hair. "Just a few cracked ribs? Henry ran you through my glass windows and took you over the side of my balcony. It's nothing short of a miracle you're still here."

Zinobia wanted to tell him he was overreacting, but that was probably true for a normal human. "I suppose the gravity of it all hasn't caught up with me yet." She finally looked at him. "I'm sorry about your party."

"There can be many more parties. There can't be another you. Why would you do something so reckless?"

She lifted a brow. "By something so reckless, you mean my job? We were the only people at the party equipped to handle a screamer. If we'd let Henry run rampant, very few of you would've made it out of that party with your skins intact."

Roland rubbed his face with both hands. "I know. I know. I just didn't think it was that intense."

"Don't tell me you're going to shut down the special ward because it's too dangerous." Her tone was light and teasing, but in the back of her head, she knew it was a real possibility. And something that could greatly hinder the work she and Josiah were doing.

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

Zinobia shook her head. "It may be dangerous, but I believe the work I'm doing there is important. I've never been on the cusp of a new discovery before. I'm still trying to learn as much as I can."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I admire your passion, Lady Bloodletter. The special ward stays open. Just promise me you'll take as much time as you need to rest and recover."

"I will. And... I suppose I should give this back." She took the string of beads from the bedside table and held it out.

Roland took her hand in both of his and closed her fingers around the trinket. His hands were warm, she noticed, and his fingers were long, the nails trimmed. A musician's hands. "Keep it. I consider it a good luck charm, and it seems to have worked for you."

"Are you sure?" Her gaze drifted from their hands to the little plaque dangling between them.

"I'm sure. This actually reminds me. I wanted to show you something." He dug into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a folded up newspaper. The Aldemore Watcher, one of those tabloid rags that thrived on gossip and spite.

On the front page was a black-and-white picture of her and Roland out on his balcony. Lord Ashbourne's potential suitor? was the headline. If looks could kill, the tabloid would've burst into flames.

Roland was staring at her expectantly, as though waiting for some kind of reaction, but most of her reactions remained internal. She let them stew for a moment before filtering them and presenting something that was lady-like and in good keeping with the law.

"I'm surprised you read these disgusting rags," she finally said as she passed the paper back.

"I found it amusing. It's interesting how someone can get the tiniest glimpses into your world and attempt to explain your entire life." He regarded the story with a rueful expression.

With his standing in life, he was probably used to being put under a microscope and having his every move overanalyzed. Finding the humour in it all was probably how he maintained his sanity. Heavens knew if Zinobia was subjected to such scrutiny, she'd resort to arson.

"I should let you rest now." Roland produced a pen from his coat pocket and scribbled something on the napkin next to her drink. "This is my private line. If you need anything, or if you just... need to talk, call me. I'm usually home past five on weekdays and all day on weekends."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know anyone was here." Vittoria stood outside the curtain with her bag in her hands. Zinobia had no idea when she got there or how long she'd been listening, but she sank a little lower in the bed—suddenly a little too conscious of how this all looked.

Lord Ashbourne smiled. "It's quite alright. I was just leaving. Lady Bloodletter." He tipped his head and took his leave.

Vittoria came to her side immediately and looked at Zinobia as though she expected her to evaporate. "Dear god, mother, what happened?" Her voice was low but frantic. "I thought you had a plan. I thought Josiah had a plan. How in god's name did you end up over the side of a balcony? Good Lord, I thought you were dead."

"It's fine. I'm fine." She pat Vittoria's hand. "The plan worked, but the execution wasn't the best. Josiah couldn't heal me because, well... everyone saw that."

"But you're all better now?"

"Not quite. I still need to keep up this farce for a little while. I'm probably going to be stuck here for at least a few more days if Theo has anything to say about it." She breathed a sigh. "What a mess this has been."

Vittoria sat on the edge of the bed. "Everyone's still reeling after what happened. They're afraid what happened to Henry is... catching."

"Of course they are." Zinobia closed her eyes briefly. "We need to figure this out before there's widespread public panic."

"What's this?" She pointed to the string of wooden beads still in Zinobia's hands. "Didn't you have those at the party, too?"

Zinobia sighed and wondered if there was any way to get out of this. She could feign exhaustion, feign pain, but Vittoria knew her so well, she'd see right through it. "Lord Ashbourne... gave them to me."

Vittoria gasped as though it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever heard, and a slow grin spread across her face. "Mother... Does he fancy you?

Josiah giggled like a giddy child.

"I..." She groaned, and her next words came out more like a grumble than a coherent sentence. "He told me he's interested in me. At the party."

Vittoria squealed. "That's amazing. So, when are you two going out? We need to pick you out an outfit. Oh, you can borrow my shoes, you know the ones."

"We're not going out, Vittoria," Zinobia said, giving her daughter a withering look. "He's my employer. Think of how awkward that would be if things don't work out between us. Or worse, if we grow to hate each other."

"I suppose, but aren't you even going to give him a chance?"

"Absolutely not. I already have enough to think about in one day without adding a man to the mix." Zinobia put her hands up before Vittoria could push the issue further, else they'd go on and on all night. "How have things been with you? Classes, editing, piano practice. James? Tell me everything."