Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 62

Finley’s gaze remained fixed on Larissa as she meticulously administered the needles to Haskell, his heart still filled with disdain. Leopold had told him she was just some village healer who sold herbal remedies. Countless world-renowned doctors had examined Haskell’s legs, and not a single one had offered any hope. Who was she to think she could succeed where they had all failed?

She would probably just make his condition worse. And once she failed, Haskell would see how useless she was. His patience and affection would surely vanish then.

…

Three hours later, Larissa removed the last of the densely packed needles from Haskell’s leg. She applied a medicated bandage to his knee joint before finally standing up and stretching her back. "That's it for today's treatment."

She looked at Haskell, whose forehead was beaded with sweat, and felt a genuine sense of admiration for his endurance. The process was, without a doubt, excruciating.

“He really is worthy of being my husband,” she thought.

Haskell wiped the sweat from his brow and gently massaged his leg. The stiffness in his knee already felt slightly looser.

"If I'm really fully recovered in three months," he said, "how about we set our wedding for then?"

Larissa sat on the stone bench, sterilizing her needles. "I'm fine with that. I'm just worried you'll have second thoughts once your legs are healed."

She wasn't actually worried at all; she always had a backup plan.

"Nonsense," Haskell said, his tone serious. "You're the only one for me."

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