ChapterTwenty-Seven
Over the past two days, Nora had nearly mastered keeping her worry and heartache to herself. And as she currently changed her son's bandages, she kept her hands steady. Breaking down again and being forced something to calm her down and make her sleep wouldn't help Ambrose.
Nor would it help Leo.
Yesenia still hadn't woken up, and even the fae witch doctor had started to worry. If she didn't wake soon, she might not be herself when—or if—she finally did.
Thinking of what that would do to Leo, Nora only strengthened her resolve to keep her emotions in check and focus on taking care of Ambrose. It would give her brother one less thing to worry about.
She sung softly as she changed her son's dressings, glad to see Ambrose's wounds were slowly healing thanks to the fae witch's magic and salve. Even though Nora had spent decades learning as much about healing as she could—both for security and peace of mind given her past—magic-inflicted wounds were beyond her.
And if Leo had been one day later in saving her son, he wouldn't still be alive.
Swallowing down the emotion that thought brought, she focused on the fact Ambrose was here, and John Sakamoto confiscating the magical knife had helped the fae witch doctor immensely when it came to healing him.
As she stared at Ambrose's unmoving body, it still took her some time to acknowledge his lack of breathing wasn't because he was dead. A good thing, because his frozen state was the main reason he was alive at all.
Her eyes warmed with tears as she took in the wrappings covering nearly every inch of his body. This wasn't the first time her son had come close to death. No, when she'd first been reunited with him as a child, he'd been emaciated and full of infected wounds.
But despite what her boy had experienced before becoming her son in truth, he'd become such a strong male she was proud of. He’d grown more distant in recent years for reasons she didn't understand, but even so, without him in her life, Nora wasn't sure if she'd want to keep on living.
She loved her brothers, but Ambrose was her child, the only light in the darkest days of her life when she'd been under father's control, back when Leo and Laurie had been purposefully kept away from her.
And if she lost Ambrose? Not only would grief consume her, the memories she'd held at bay for so long, the ones about the four children she'd never even held in her arms but had been ripped from her seconds after birth, would crush her.
She'd dwell on what sort of lives they'd lived when under the brutal males who paid to use her womb, and how she never had the chance to help or rescue them.
Never had the chance to love them.
Stop it. More than anything, Ambrose needs my strength right now, not melancholy thoughts.
Quickly brushing away the tears on her cheeks, Nora managed to finish her task and started to turn toward the door to hand over the rubbish to a maid when a hand encircled her wrist. She turned to find Ambrose awake, his eyes on her. He slowly signed, "What happened, Mum?"
Ambrose hadn't called her mum in decades, it was always Mother, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she forced a smile and took in her son, finally awake.
At the weariness and pain swirling in his gaze, she nearly broke down again. But then he repeated, "What happened?"
Smoothing hair back from Ambrose's forehead—one of the few places without healing cuts—she replied, "Leo and his men found you and brought you back here. There's more to the tale, of course, but we'll save it for when you're stronger."
He tried to sit up—her son was nearly as stubborn as her brothers when it came to denying they were sick or ill—and then laid back down with a grimace.
Nora clicked her tongue. "You're far from ready to get out of bed and need plenty of rest, Ambrose Leopold Yates. Try rising again before the doctor says it's okay, and I'll tie you to the bed myself."
As soon as she said it, Nora mentally cursed. Ambrose had come to her at seven years old, with rope burn scars on his wrists and ankles. Apparently the male who'd paid to rape and impregnate her had gone to extreme measures to try and make Ambrose talk, uncaring that he physically couldn't.
But when the corner of her son's mouth ticked ever so slightly upwards, she let out the breath she'd been holding. He signed somewhat sluggishly, "I remember John and what you did when he fought the blood fever."
Uncaring if Ambrose was a fully grown male now, she had to touch him again to reassure herself he was alive. As she brushed some more hair off his forehead, it reminded her of how the only child she'd been able to raise and love was still here, giving her something to live for. "Good, then you remember that means I don't have to try and scold you. John was being far more stubborn than you, trying to get back to his duties before he could even walk straight. I had no choice but to restrain him after his third break-out attempt." She gently rearranged the blanket to better cover her son's bandaged chest. "And because too many of you have nearly died over the past few days, I refuse to let you relapse and leave me after all my hard work at nursing you."
Ambrose closed his eyes and his brows came together. Despite the fact he'd been putting up a good show, Nora could see how exhausted her son still was. His signing was almost unintelligible, but Nora knew him well enough to make it out. "Can you tell me what happened? Even if it's the shorter version for now, it'll help calm me."
Her first instinct was to force him to rest, but she knew a bit about needing to hear the truth to settle demons. So she went over what Laurie, Leo, and John had told her, about the sneaking inside the warehouse, Yesenia's help, and bringing him home.
When she finished, she noticed Ambrose lying still, his eyes moving below closed eyelids. "Ambrose?" When he didn't reply, she knew he was asleep.
Even if it had only been brief, talking with her son had helped settle her nerves, giving her a bit more strength to face the day. Maybe she could do something to help Leo with Yesenia.
She slowly exited the room, but no sooner had she closed the door than one of the maids raced down the hall. "Miss Yates, Miss Vale is stirring."
Not missing a beat, she picked up her skirts and raced down one corridor and then another until she found Yesenia's room. She halted just inside the open doorway and resisted blurting the question on her tongue: Was her brother's bride well?
She watched as Leo hovered over Yesenia and crossed her fingers. Ambrose had finally woken and was on the mend. She only hoped the same proved true for Yesenia, or it might end up destroying her brother.