"How did it go?" Prince Arthur asked, approaching me curiously. But as soon I turned around to face him his expression dropped, the anticipation leaving him. "Goodness! What is wrong with you? You're as pale as snow!"
I presented him my forearms, swaying on the balls of my feet as I did so. His face bleached of colour immediately, his rosy lips fading something akin to green.
"Don't faint!" I fretted, reaching out to steady him but immediately regretting the movement.
And then the next moment I was feeling dizzy again and he had to keep me upright. We both stared at each other for a few moments, our lips sealed shut as we both desperately tried not to spew.
"What happened?" He gurgled.
"Later." I chocked, waving away the question. "I just need a solution right now."
"I'll call a physician." He nodded.
I grabbed at his arm in a desperate attempt to hold him and then yelped like an injured puppy.
"Don't," I breathed, "I don't want anyone to find out about this."
Which was true. There was currently blood smeared up the castle's walls and if anyone saw my injuries it wouldn't be hard to put two and two together. But there was more, I didn't trust the physicians. I had these terrible images in my mind of them sewing me up without pain relief, sticking leaches on my wounds and then chopping my arms off.
"What are we supposed to do then? These wounds are serious; they could kill you." He said firmly, his face filled with worry.
"I think that... I think that Master Hector might be able to help." I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
"Master Hector?" Prince Arthur stared at me like I'd gone mad. "But he's not a physician?"
"No, but he's a master botanist and I think he'll be someone who will treat me with science instead of superstition." I insisted.
Arthur didn't look convinced, "You think so?"
I nodded, "I have a gut feeling about this."
"Fine, but if it doesn't work, you'll have to see a physician." Prince Arthur agreed, "I will tell your mother I've sent you on an errand of great importance and you'll receive a reward for the inconvenience. Josiah!"
Prince Arthur's private guard for the night strolled over, a mischievous look plastered across his face. Prince Arthur gave him a hard stare, his blue eyes flashing with something akin to anger. Josiah sobered, his expression becoming firmer and his gate more respectful.
"I have an errand of upmost importance you need to run. Lady Joan is injured and I need you to take her to Master Hector's residence immediately for treatment."
Josiah opened his mouth as if to question, but Prince Arthur held up a finger to stop him speaking.
"This is an order, Josiah, and I shall not be questioned about it, nor do I want to hear word of this escaping to anyone else. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Your Highness." He agreed, chastised.
Prince Arthur turned to me, "Leave immediately and allow me to cover over your absence."
"Thank you, Prince Arthur." I said warmly.
He gave me a soft smile before swishing back around to join the festivities. For a moment my heart ached as I watched him, adorned in silver and blue like a precious jewel. He was in every way fit to be a monarch and it angered me to the core that the people around him could only see this through grand gestures of heroism and not the small kindnesses that made a person truly good. Eventually, I would have to deliver to him terrible news, something that could very possibly test him in every way. I only hoped it wouldn't break his royal spirit.
🌿🌿
"What happened to you?" Josiah asked, leading me over to a large stallion.
I didn't have the energy to speak so I simply showed him my weepy arms. His eyes widened in disbelief, and I could see that, just like Prince Arthur, he was fighting to contain his vomit.
"Well, that wasn't very clever." He joked, his face turning green.
He came up behind me and with one sweeping motion of his strong arms, grabbed me by my hips and practically threw me up onto the large horse. Ordinarily I might have blushed, but on this occasion, I was too busy trying not to hurl to be bashful.
He jumped up behind me, tall and imposing behind my smaller frame. With a yell he yanked on the reigns and immediately the horse reared up onto its hind legs and went charging off into night, leaving the stars shining in streaks as it sped off.
Thankfully the journey was fast and smooth, allowing me to maintain my consciousness for the ride. I noticed immediately when we came to Master Hector's expansive gardens and I hoped desperately that it would be easy for me to find him.
"I'll go alone." I whispered, as Josiah helped me off the horse.
"You shouldn't go alone." He argued.
I stepped away from him. "Master Hector will be put off if both of us startle him."
Josiah rolled his eyes, "Charming." He jested.
I didn't have the time nor the energy for witty banter in that moment, so I simply left Josiah where he was standing and made my way through the orchards towards the enclosed garden. I remembered the awe I felt last time I was in Master Hector's gardens, this time they gave me a profound sense of comfort. Some of the trees glowed with fruit like fireflies in the night, as if they were lanterns guiding me to safety. I followed their glow until I once again found myself at the enclosed garden.
I noticed the door was still bolted shut as I approached. And as I came up to the gap I had spoken to Hector through last time, I could see him still sleeping inside. He was curled up tight on a mat of straw, twitching as he dreamed. Lightly, I rapped on the glass with my fist so as to wake him but not terrify him. That didn't work.
He immediately flew out of his sleeping position like a cat awoken by fireworks. I barely had the energy to speak; to console him, I just rested my palms on the glass until he noticed who was there. His face morphed from terror, to confusion, to recognition and then back to confusion.
"Wha-what are you doing here?" He gasped, his hair messed up and dribble crusted on his lip.
"I need your help." I rasped, the world starting to spin.
It was like a switch flicked inside him and in a split second he went from suspicious and terrified to deadly serious. I must've looked astonishingly ill. That or I really was just super ugly.
"Wait a moment." He instructed.
I rested against the window frame as he got to making some kind of potion inside. I could see him swirling around a metal beaker in his hand, I just watched absent-mindedly, losing the will to care what was going on. The next thing he did was begin pouring it on the window's lead. The metal began steaming away, corroding until it disappeared. I stared in amazement as Hector lifted the window away, still completely intact. He could've escaped all along?
"Why haven't you done that sooner?" I gasped.
He shrugged, "I haven't had any need to. Here, come in."
I tried to crawl in through the window, but my arms were so
weak I couldn't push myself up, "I can't, I don't have the strength."
His face wrinkled in concentration and concern as he reached through the window.
"Sorry, Lady Joan." He apologised, not looking me in the eyes as he slid his hands under my armpits and dragged me in through the window.
As soon as I landed inside, I flopped onto the floor, the last scraps of strength from my legs disappearing.
He bent down to examine me, his dark eyebrows drawn seriously. "What do you need?"
Before I had departed, I wrapped my arms in shreds of fabric from my dress to staunch the bleeding. I now unwrapped the sodden pieces of brocade and for the third time this evening, presented my arms.
Master Hector didn't wince in the slightest, he just observed them analytically. He gently took my hands in his own and examined the wounds from different angles.
"I'm not a physician." He stated.
"I know. But I thought that I could trust you the most. Can you help me?"
He nodded, "I can help."
"Do you know about bacteria?" I asked, my head pounding.
"I don't." He said, standing up to retrieve items.
"You have to trust me on this," I pleaded, "It's these dirty things that get into wounds and cause illness and death. You can kill them with alcohol, strong alcohol."
"You're saying you want me to pour alcohol on your wounds?"
"Please." I begged.
His face looked wounded, not incredulous. I squinted, thinking I was going delirious, why did he look sad at the suggestion? He crossed over to a small cask stored in the room and poured what looked like wine out of it into a large goblet.
"What's that look on your face?" I asked.
"This is my prized wine; the vines only produce fruit every five years. The grapes are delicate in flavour and smooth on the tongue, they create a robust wine with a slight foam. I don't often make wine myself, but I do when these grapes that only I cultivate are in season. It-it's divine."
I was most definitely going delirious. Was I feeling guilty over Master Hector having to use his special wine to ensure I didn't develop sepsis and die? I shook my head; I really didn't take Master Hector for a wine snob. I raised an eyebrow and held out my arms. He sighed and came closer, taking a mournful breath as he poured the precious wine on my arms.
I cried out, the alcohol stinging the deep wounds. Hector stopped pouring and looked in the goblet, he then held it out to me. I looked at it in confusion.
"Drink some," he shrugged, "It might help."
I took it and had a sip. My taste buds exploded in a flurry of flavour so fine it made my eyes water.
"Did you just let me pour that on my arms!" I yelled.
He recoiled backwards, "You were the one that insisted!"
"You should've fought me! This is worth dying over!" I moaned, savouring the taste on my tongue. I shoved the goblet over to him, leaving a smidge left in the glass, "You have the last bit."
He took the last mouthful, and I could see him visibly melt at the exquisite flavour. In spite of the awful situation and the burning pain, I actually laughed as I watched him, cheeks flushed and eyes watering in happiness. He was so funny.
After that he got back to work again, sifting through his supplies and plants meticulously. He came over with a wooden tray in his hand and knelt in front of me. He held a long pair of copper tweezers and a rudimentary scalpel with a sharp blade that glistened in the fire lily light. I swallowed, suddenly wondering if this was a such a good idea. But my fears were very quickly put to rest as I saw him using the instruments to dissect a very thin leaf.
"This is graftweed I've cultivated myself; it's the thinnest batch I've grown so far. You can actually see light pass through the leaves." He said, holding it up with tweezers. "Because of the thickness of ordinary graftweed it's hard to completely integrate it with intact skin, which can leave lumps and scars. With this, it should look like nothing ever happened."
"It seems I came exactly to the right person then," I said, giving him a tired smile.
His freckled face flushed crimson and he looked back at what he was doing shyly. I laughed inwardly; he wasn't good at taking praise either it seemed. I watched him intently as he worked methodically. First, he dusted a numbing powder over my arms which made them feel floppy and tingly. Then, he started to precisely cut and apply the graftweed to my wounds.
"You're fortunate you didn't sever any arteries, graftweed is hard to apply to arteries. If you accidently block them, you can damage the body's vital flow of lifeforce." He explained, holding my arms gently with his hand and looking at it closely.
His curly locks draped over his eyes, and he struggled to push them back as he worked carefully, biting his lip in concentration.
I watched him contemplatively, he was such an enigma, so different to how he appeared to others. I probably should've felt somewhat sad about that, but in that moment, half-delirious and exhausted, I was kind of happy that I was only person who had witnessed this side of him.