"We're here!"

The cabin lurched to a halt. Maribelle, having seen it from a mile away, clamped down on the side, and her arm held her in place as she jerked forward.

The man was not nearly as well prepared. With a yelp, he flew across the carriage and crashed into the opposite wall.

As he lay dazed on the floor, Maribelle leaned over him. "What's the matter? Have you never taken a carriage before?"

"No, actually," he mumbled. "How can anyone prefer this to horseback? It's much faster, and not nearly as bumpy."

"Laziness, I suppose. You wouldn't believe how many people I know who wouldn't want to put in the effort to learn how to ride a horse."

"Ugh. I don't feel well. I think I'm going to be sick."

Maribelle pulled herself away. "Well go be sick somewhere else!"

"I don't think I'll have a choice..."

"Then don't think about it! If you take your mind off it, you can hold it back!"

"As much as I'd hate to be a downer, talking about it is not going to make it any–oh gods..."

He didn't look to be bluffing, not with the way he lurched back. As she hissed, Maribelle glanced wildly about for something to make the situation better. Maybe she could give him a bag to hold it in? But the only one nearby was her purse, and just thinking about that made her queasy.

Then, an idea.

Digging past the gold coins swimming around her purse, she pulled out a smaller pouch of candy and thrust it forward. "Take these!"

"Unless it's an elixir, I think I can stomach it."

"It'll help with the sickness, dolt. Look!" Without waiting for his reply, she let a caramel roll out and into her other hand.

"Candy?"

"It's medicine."

"That looks like... caramel."

"Well, it is, but caramels can help with stomach pain." When he didn't look convinced, which was fair since she was making this up on the fly. But he didn't know that, so she added, "I studied medicine. I know what I'm talking about."

"I... I'm fine."

"Just take it!"

Maribelle tried to push out of her seat and shove it into his hands. A jolt of pain had her muscles locking up instead, and she tripped with a yelp, landing not-so-gracefully on the floor.

"Snrk."

She felt her cheeks heat up. Anyone would feel embarrassed if they were in her situation, yet that didn't stop her from feeling ashamed about it. At least her companion was polite enough to not comment.

"You know, this clumsy act suits you poorly."

Or not. At least he sounded a lot better now.

"Did that get your mind off your stomach pains?" she asked.

The man paused. "I suppose it did."

Maribelle wanted to cheer. All that came out instead was a weak groan.

From the corner of her eye, Maribelle saw movement. The carriage floor shook as the man knelt down beside her.

"Need a hand, buttercup?"

"I'm fine!"

She pushed herself off the floor. On shaky legs, she hauled herself to her feet, and once she was sure she could stand, she took a step forward.

Her wounded leg buckled. She toppled forward, her face stopping inches from the floor as two firm hands grabbed her shoulders and held her tight.

"I can handle myself," she muttered.

"Let's just err to the side of caution. I wouldn't want you to mar your... ah... pretty face."

Of course he would say something like that. Maribelle would have protested further, but the pain in her leg forced her teeth closed with a hiss.

One step at a time, he brought her out the door and back onto solid ground. Heads turned their way–after all, a horse-drawn carriage was hardly subtle, after all–but once they saw her, ragged and dirty as she was, an arm draped over the man's shoulders, most of them made the effort to hide their curiosity.

The last thing she wanted was to be seen in such a state, though she supposed people would be people. That didn't stop her from sweeping a frosty glare at all those in her line of sight.

"So... ah... where do we go?"

"Hm?" Maribelle snapped back to attention. Quickly scanning over the town center they'd found themselves in and the people wandering over it, she said, "We need to find a place to stay."

"Will that do?"

She followed his finger to a sign at the end of the street reading: "l'hotel jaune". The building behind it was far more ramshackle than she would've liked. A few of the windows were boarded up, and part of the ceiling had turned into a gaping hole.

"Absolutely not," she huffed. "Is there anywhere else we can stay?"

"I... don't think so? I mean, it isn't as if a small town like this would need a second inn."

"Fine then. Take us there."

As much as it pained her to admit, she had no other option. As run-down as it looked, it was still marginally better than spending another night in a tent with the insufferable flirt, and it was only a short walk away. She didn't want to spend the entire day dragging around a leg that hurt like nothing else.

People were sensible enough to let them through without making a fuss. No one was rude enough to trip the girl bleeding out over the road. For that, she was a little grateful, but no less irritated by the constant looks she got as they passed by, and by the time they reached the door, she could have sworn she heard someone whispering about her.

Whatever rumors they were passing along, she could only hope none of them recognized who she was.

Not that it mattered as her companion pushed the door open and led her inside.

I felt like it was about time I went and updated this fic. So I did.

As fun as it was to write this chapter (and going back to brush up on my French), some of the jokes felt a little more miss than usual. If anything here is completely egregious, feel free to let me know. It really lets me write better stuff you can enjoy.

Until I return, I wish you all the best, and stay safe!