But you were cut off by the sound of a knock on the doors to the living room. Panic set in as your head whipped over to the door. "Y/n? I hope I didn't take too long," the servant says, opening the doors, giving Alistair a moment to quickly dematerialize before the servant could see. “We should kill him for this interruption.” Alistair hisses. You shiver at the thought of having even more blood on your hands, but you don't give in to your fantasies. "There's no alibi." You say under your breath enough for the servant not to hear from across the room. "Curse an alibi! I know you would love to just strangle that twig of a neck!” He says, the image tempts your mind with desire, but you must remember your situation.

“I don’t need to look any more suspicious or mad than I already do.” You say still under your breath. Alistair remained silent in frustration at your stubbornness. The servant pulls the cart full of supplies around once inside and pushes it over to you. "How are you feeling?" The servant asks, dipping a cloth into the water basin. "It still hurts quite a lot; I feel like I've lost a lot of blood." You whimper. The servant brings the cloth close to your face and you instinctively grab his wrist before he can touch you. You clear your throat and release your grip. "I'll clean the small cuts." You say and the servant frowns. "They really did a number on you." He gives you a concerned look. He moves down to your leg and looks to you for consent before touching you. You nod and let him dab away the blood that had caked around the wound. "I'm going to need a better look at the wound…" He trails off while still dabbing away. "You may cut around the fabric, I'll have it patched." You say and he gives you a nod.

After cleaning most of the blood from around the wound he pulls out the sewing kit. He pulls out a small pair of scissors and begins cutting the clothing around the wound. "Now that I can see it properly, this wound looks quite deep." He says wincing at it as if just looking at it pains him. "Yes the blade was buried to the hilt." You say, remembering the moment clearly in your mind. "I'm going to begin stitching you up, is that alright?" He asks, looking at you. "Yes." You say taking a deep breath, awaiting the pain to come. He turns back to the sewing kit pulling out a hooked needle and thread. You grit your teeth and watch as he punctures your irritated, torn skin and pulls the thread through. The servant notices you staring, "You don't have to watch if you don't want to." He says and you remember your facade. "I'm just making sure it's going well." You wince in pain. "Alright… Do you mind if I take your mind off it?" You give him a confused look. "We could talk about something else. It might help with the pain if you focus on other things." He reassures. You take a moment, then nod in response, and he smiles. "How was Mrs. Moonie? I haven't seen her in quite a while." He asks pleasantly. "She was well. She was very nice." You say, still too focused on the wound. The servant picks up on your tension and his shoulders slump a bit.