You were faking?

"Lysander, could you take a look? This lady's twisted her ankle and it's really hurting her," Vespera said.

"I see. Let me help her in for an examination. Wait out here, okay?" Lysander took Mrs. Strider's arm, leaving Vespera outside the exam room.

As soon as the door closed, Lysander's face fell. He looked at Mrs. Strider with exasperation. "Mrs. Strider! What are you doing here? Isn't Alaric back in England? Does he know you're here?"

Mrs. Strider grinned smugly, giving Lysander a wink. "So, how was my act? Pretty convincing, right?"

Lysander stared at her. "... You were faking?"

Mrs. Strider beamed. "I told you! If I hadn't gotten married, I'd be an Oscar-winning actress for sure!"

Lysander: "..."

Mrs. Strider rambled on, "Now, Lysander dear, write me up a medical note. Make it sound serious – you know, the kind that needs round-the-clock care!"

Lysander rubbed his temples. "Why are you really here in the capital, Mrs. Strider?"

Mrs. Strider blinked. "Isn't it obvious? I'm trying