You’re the Healer
Warnings: Food mention. Blood. Stitches. Scar mention (of the non-self-inflicted variety). Alcohol.
Word count: 2,782
Third installment in my Bard series. (One, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine.)
“Potatoes in, carrots in, celery in,” you mumble to yourself, dumping the vegetables into the pot of boiling broth. Delicious scents swirl in the air, eliciting a sense of calm to rival the surprising nerves over the forthcoming meeting with Bard. “That’s it for that. All’s left to do is let it simmer while everything else is finishing up.”
You check the clock; half past six, it says. Bard will arrive at seven.
“Oh, goodness,” you mutter to the empty kitchen. “Bard will be here at seven.”