She was stuck. Well, she wasn't stuck literally. She could get up if she wanted to, but that would mean more pain and discomfort. She couldn't shift. She had tried to and it had hurt too. Nope, she was stuck lying on her couch with nothing to do except drown in her own thoughts, which were not as bright and happy as she would have liked them to be. The young lautari of Cour des Miracles was an invalid for the first time in her life. With a severely sprained ankle, she could not walk around like she usually did to help get her mind off of her problems. Jac, despite his best efforts, was no healer, and with Svara having died there was no healer that Ruri knew of that she could seek to try and ease the pain. Jac hadn't stayed long, as she had cried herself to sleep shortly after being helped back to her cabin. Heath hadn't come back either. Who could blame him? Jac, the king, had ordered him to stay away under the threat of more physical abuse.
The ivory and slate female was not mad at either of them. How could she be? Heath had confessed his love for her and defended their love against Jac's accusations that it was all a selfish form of seduction on the part of the coy-wolf. Jac had only been trying to protect Ruri from someone whom he thought, albeit incorrectly, was out to harm her. Heath had left in order to avoid the physical conflict he knew Ruri dreaded. She had foolishly hurt herself chasing after him. Now...she was stuck.
One would not blame the delicate female for being depressed. After all, her dream of having both of her loved ones being friends with each other had shattered into a million pieces and she could think of nothing to do in order to fix it. So...Ruri was forced, by the cruel hand of fate, to sit and don her best to avoid sending shots of pain up her leg while trying not to think about the negative occurrences of the past evening which only succeeded in making her think about them more. In a word, the innocent Majordomo was helpless.