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Still, she hoped it might offer him some relief.

When she returned to his chamber, Ambrose was sitting exactly where she had left him, his head tipped back against the chair and his eyes closed.

He opened them at the sound of her footsteps.

“That was rather quick,” he murmured.

“I had everything I needed.”

She approached with the cup.

“Drink this,” she instructed gently. “It may help ease the inflammation. At least let us see whether it does.”

He regarded the liquid with evident suspicion.

Marina almost smiled.

“You agreed to let me try.”

“So I did.”

He accepted the cup and took a cautious sip.

She watched him anxiously.

“Well?”

“It tastes dreadful.”

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“Then I shall endeavor to make the next preparation more agreeable.”

To her surprise, the corner of his mouth lifted.

He finished the infusion despite his complaints and handed the empty cup back to her.

“You should sleep now,” she said. “Your eyes need rest.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“You truly believe you can help me?”

“I believe we have not yet tried everything.”

It was not the answer he had expected.

Marina placed the cup upon a nearby table and turned toward the door.

“I shall leave you to rest. We can speak again when you feel better.”

“Marina.”

She stopped.

“Thank you.”

The words were quiet, almost reluctant, but she heard the sincerity beneath them.