"It's just a scratch wound," Felicity said, striding back into the hall, her voice steady despite the faint trace of blood at her ankle. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, found Nero immediately. "I have something to take care of." The way she glared at him made Nero avert his gaze, a flicker of embarrassment rising unbidden.
Merek's gaze swept over them all, cold and measured. He raised his hand, holding up the small tin of balm, now nearly spent. His voice, calm yet firm, echoed through the hall. "This is an item that can save a life. But let me make this clear, this is the last time I use it for anyone but myself. I've used it on her," he pointed at Felicity, "on him," his finger shifted to Tevin, "and on the professor." His gaze locked onto Nero, piercing and unblinking. "That should be enough generosity."
