Chapter 8

Going slowly to the window, she folded a leg beneath her and sat down on the window seat.

The sight that greeted her made her smile for the first time since entering the city. Outside the castle, past the moat, was a garden. The orderly trees behind must be an orchard. As her eyes wandered to the horizon, she saw a dark cluster of trees that was the forest. Her smile turned into a grin, for there, she would know peace.

"You heard Lord Aubren," Mrs. Francis said. She bustled about the room, combs, towels, soap, pins, and ribbons spilling out of her arms. "You have no time to dally. We must make you look presentable."

Reluctantly, Miriam turned her eyes from the view. She saw that Mrs. Francis had laid a new dress on the bed. She padded to the bed and touched the silk of the dress. The neckline was modest, and the forest green suited the amber of her hair.

"Don't just look at it, child. Put it on."

Miriam jumped. She unlaced her gown quickly, shrugging out of it. No sooner did she untangle herself from her clothes, the maids snatched it away, making noises over the dusty state of the cloak and gown. Red with embarrassment, she donned the new garment hastily, tugging at the unruly layers of petticoats that Mrs. Francis insisted upon. While the maids brushed the tangles from her hair, Miriam washed her face and her hands with scented soap. They barely finished tying her hair back with a plain ribbon before Lord Aubren entered.

Gone was the plain tunic and trousers that Miriam was accustomed to. The crisp white of his shirt contrasted sharply with the dark blue waistcoat that he wore. The simplicity of his clothing did not fool Miriam, for even she could understand and appreciate a tailor's exceptional work. He looked as comfortable in this elaborate setting as he was at the Dillons' humble cottage.

A lesser woman would hate him for it.

Gods be damned, she hated him.

"Quick, we have no time to lose," Adrian said, escorting her forcefully through the halls.

Miriam was too weary to give him the biting response that he deserved. Luckily, her room was not far from the royal chambers. Adrian nodded his head at the guards, who did not stop him as he opened the great metal door. The chamber's ceiling was higher than Miriam's, arching high above. The curtains were drawn shut. The only light source was from the fireplace and the candles on the night stand as Adrian brought Miriam to the bed.

Bowing to the person in the bed, Adrian announced, "Your Majesty, may I present the Healer of Rae."

Miriam hesitated, but curtsied when Adrian sent her a look. She could hear labored wheezing as Adrian lent an arm to prop the king up on the numerous pillows. Miriam hurried to the nearest window, drawing the heavy fabric apart.

"Are you trying to kill me?" the king's angry voice attacked her from behind.

"Your Majesty, despite tradition, there is nothing wrong with allowing light into a sick room," she retorted.

With pride and a touch of disdain, she turned around and faced the man who had murdered her mother. She refused to lower her eyes in deference. Instead, she stared into the sunken eyes of the most powerful man in the country, challenging him. What she saw, however, was an old man who was dying, a man who deserved sympathy. Deliberately, she squashed a twinge of guilt about her behavior.

"Ye gods," he breathed. "Adrian, you did not tell me that the Healer was a woman!"

His head swivelled towards Adrian, his eyes accusing. "How dare you present a mere peasant as the Healer of Rae! Lying will cost you your life. Don't think for a moment that my love for you would save you from punishment for such a serious crime."

"Your Majesty, my father was the Healer of Rae," Miriam said, praying for patience. "He taught me everything I know."

Adrian tucked the blankets more securely around the king's frail body, offering him a glass of water. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Isaac assured me that his daughter had surpassed even him in the art of healing. I have witnessed her skills first-hand."

Pacified, the king laid back on his bed. "What is your name, child?"

"Miriam, Your Majesty."

"Is your father well?" he asked.

"He was sick when I left him, but he is with people who could take care of him. Your wrist, please."

She laid her fingers on his dry, papery skin, feeling the weak pulse. "Where are you hurting?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular. Miriam," he said, waiting until she stopped what she's doing. "I am sorry about the death of your mother. I have repented for my actions. Will you forgive me?"

Miriam said nothing, proceeding with a serious of questions about the king's recent health. The heavy door threw open and a tall dark haired stranger stalked to the bedside.

A band of gold circled his head.

"What in the gods' name are you doing, wench?" he said.

Adrian bowed in front of the stranger. "My prince, this is the Healer of Rae."

Miriam paid no heed to the stranger, but continued to press on the king's stomach gently. The king hissed in pain. She pulled the sheets over him and fluffed the pillows for him.

"Well?" the prince demanded.

"Cornelius, enough," the king ordered. "The girl is the Healer of Rae, and you ought to treat her as thus."

"Your highness," Miriam said, addressing the prince. "May I speak with you in private?"

"Of course. This way please." He and Adrian led her to a separate chamber with a large mahogany table and many chairs along its side.

"We use this chamber when the king became too ill to join the Counsel downstairs," the prince explained.

Miriam sat down on the chair that Adrian pulled out for her. "Your highness, you probably realized that your father's illness is quite serious."

She paused as a servant entered with refreshment. The prince dismissed him after tea and scones had been served. "Please continue."

Miriam stirred sugar into her tea until it dissolved. "Your father has a tumor growing inside. It will spread through his body and eat away at it until your father is dead. There is nothing I can do to cure it, but with proper care and management, he could be kept alive for some time."

Prince Cornelius was silent. He pushed away from the table and started pacing. Adrian picked at the crumbs of his scone, his brows furrowed in contemplation.

Miriam took a deep breath and said, "I am terribly sorry, but that is the best I can do."

"How long?" the prince asked.

"A year, maybe less."

"I see," he said. "This does not bode well for us, Adrian."

"No indeed, your highness. But this is the best we have until we thwart Edward's plan."

"He will suffer," Miriam said. "I can give him time, but he will go through much pain."

"Mistress Healer, we will be grateful if you could prolong his life as long as possible," the prince said firmly.

"Why? It will be painful for him."

The prince grasped her chin roughly until she was inches away from his face. "You are here to obey orders, not to question them. Do as I say and ask no question, do you understand?"

Smooth as butter, Adrian intercepted. "Really, your highness. Is it necessary to treat the girl so?"

Prince Cornelius released his hand, pushing her away. Miriam's heart pounded, and she fingered her chin, checking for bruises.

"See to it that she gets to work, Adrian."

He stomped off without another word. Miriam glared after him. She slapped away the hand Adrian offered to help her up. "Is your prince always so rude?"

"Try to understand, Miriam. His father is dying," Adrian replied.

She whirled around to face him. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration, but she would die before she allowed him to see it. Jabbing a finger to his chest, she said menacingly, "I need a place to work. Find a chamber with large tables where I could set up my equipment when they arrive in the trunks. I cannot help the king otherwise. Until then, leave me alone."

She ran off blindly into one of the halls. Adrian cursed to no one in particular, but didn't go after her. I have more to do than to chase after some irrational female.

Miriam wasn't sure how far she ran or toward which direction. She passed halls after halls. When Miriam finally slowed down, she realized that she was lost. Adrian had been too anxious to see the king to show her the way, and now she had no idea how far she was from her chamber. She leaned back on the wall and slid down helplessly until she sat on the floor with her knees to her chest.