by L.K. Hill
***
Hours later, Inga sat on Natalya’s cot, Natalya’s head in her lap while Yehvah showed the doctors out. Natalya’s ankle was not broken, but badly twisted, and she would have to be off it for a week. No other broken bones or permanent injuries had been detected; at least, not any physical ones. The emotional healing would be the hardest. Natalya had lost something she could never get back.
Sergei. Natalya was sure of it. He grabbed her in the hallway and dragged her to a secluded place so no one could hear her calling for help. It probably explained his journey through the courtyard. He didn’t want to be caught near the place if Natalya was found quickly.
Inga had seen Sergei admiring Natalya's beauty more than once, but she would never have thought this would happen. Sergei stared at all women the same way. Inga put her chin on Natalya’s shoulder in defeat. She wished she could have stopped this from happening to her best friend.
Inga could hear the low murmur of Yehvah’s voice, conversing with the doctor in the hallway. The door shut and Yehvah came back into the room. She sat at the foot of the bed and put a reassuring hand on Natalya’s leg.
Inga had not stopped crying since finding Natalya. Yehvah, as always, kept better control of her emotions. When in public, she always remained stoic. Now that the three of them were alone, her eyes moistened and tears rolled down her cheeks. Natalya cried quietly as well.
Sergei attacked a servant. They could do nothing about it, and they all knew it. No one cared about the plight of a kitchen maid. The three of them sat together, holding each other.
