Rosalie
SEVEN
The feast for the Queen's sister went ahead, as did the feast she ordered for when her sister's children arrived at court. The last she had seen of the children, they were all small little things and rowdy as anything. Now, the eldest was older than her own daughter, and the youngest was thirteen, which made her briefly wonder where the time had gone. She also arranged for activities to occur for every day of the first week of her sister's visit, allowing court to become the busiest it had been in years. And though there was talk when she cancelled her daughter's presentation, the Queen assured her court that her daughter had come down with a fever and had become bed-ridden. She made sure that all those who knew about her daughter's episode were swore to secrecy, with threats of their status and wealth being confiscated keeping them quiet.
She did, however, send out word that she was looking for a physician. After her own royal physician was unable to tell her what was wrong with her daughter, she knew she would have to look elsewhere. She was not looking for one that knew everything that her own physician knew, no; she was looking for one that knew concoctions that he did not, and methods that were not commonly known. As much as she could not show weakness, she was afraid for her daughter. Possession was life-threatening, which was why she had not yet summoned a Priest of the Gods. She couldn't bare to hear the confirmation and was instead determined to find a different answer, one that she could accept.
By the time her sister had been visiting for a fortnight, the Queen had seen several physicians. Each she had spoke to about possession, claiming that she had received word that there was a supposed cluster of possessed peasants in the east, and needed to find a physician who did not need a priest to help with dealing with it. Truthfully, she wished to find a physician who would do all he could to eliminate the possibility of possession, and from those she had seen, they were all keen on confirming it. Just from the description of her daughter's illness, each physician determined that the peasants she spoke about needed to consult with a priest and enter into the House of the Gods for treatment. That option simply wasn't possible. Her daughter would not be leaving her so soon, not even for treatment. There must be something else that could be done.
It was mid afternoon when the Queen was disturbed. She had been sat by the fire with her ladies, thinking over the last council meeting they'd had while her ladies were doing needlework. They had broken for the festive period, as per normal, but she knew that there were important things needed to be discussed when they assembled again, and she wasn't sure she was looking forward to raising those topics. She had just placed down her goblet when the door opened and a man strode in. "Your Majesty, there is a physician wishing to speak with you," he announced.
Dismissing her ladies, she stood and smoothed her dress. "And will he provide the answers I seek? No, probably not. Nevermind, you," she muttered before looking at the man. "Well? Where is he? Send him in at once!"
The man bowed his head and hurried out, making her huff at his incompetence. A moment later an old, short man entered, his back hunched and robes swamping his body. She knew this meeting would be a waste of her time, but still she allowed him to sit once he had said the formalities.
"What is the likelihood of one being possessed?" she asked, already anticipating the answer.
The physician coughed into his hand and leaned forward. "Very rare. One must have a split mind and susceptible to evil doings, and both in one person is rarely heard of."
"Acting unlike one's self and intentionally injuring a part of their body, is that a sign of possession?"
"One might think, as is the common teaching, but possession is not acting unlike one's self, but rather being not one's self. A bout of being unlike one's self is a symptom of trauma, most likely unresolved, and is treatable within one's home unlike possession."
The Queen sat back in her seat and tapped her chin. That had not been the reply she had been expecting, and she certainly had not heard such a thing from any other physician she had spoke to. "Pray tell where you come from," she said, picking up her goblet.
"I come from the west, Your Majesty," he answered. "And I am not native to your kingdom."
That explained it, she thought. All the physicians she had spoke to were naturally her people, so they had each had the same teachings and believed the same way when it came to possession. She had never known what those who came from outside her land were taught, and frankly never bothered to pay it much thought, but now that it might help her daughter she was prepared to listen. "How would you be able to tell whether one is suffering from possession?"
The old man hesitated and brought out a handkerchief to dab at his lips. "Have you heard of a technique called hypnosis?"
"I do not believe I have."
"It is frowned upon in many lands, for reasons such as fear. It's the process of lulling one into a false slumber and calling forth the memories that plague their minds. It is a lengthy process, but once it has been carried out, if the patient still suffers from being unlike one's self, then possession is the likelihood," he explained. "The treatment for possession is recommended to be carried out in the House of the Gods - and I agree that is the best place - but hypnosis can be carried out in one's own home, provided there is suitable safeguards put into place."
The Queen absorbed his words. Hypnosis has never been mentioned to her and she did not think her own physician had ever been taught about it. She did not know whether it was truly a practice carried out in other kingdoms, but why else would this man speak of it? It must exist - and, indeed, must be taught - for him to have any knowledge of it, and if it was taught then it must work in some cases. Could she really take the risk with her own daughter?
Instead of responding to the physician straight away, she dismissed him to court, making sure he had a room and suitable provision for his stay. Then she paced her study, looking through all the medicine books that were kept there. Most she had never touched before, and had never intended to pick up either, as they were for her physician to have easy access to them whenever he had need to consult a book. Now, she was not sure whether she could go to him. He could give no explanation about what was wrong with her daughter and only suggested that possession may be the cause, whereas this new foreign physician had given her a different illness, one that could be easily contained and no one in court would need to know. It was imperative that the ill-health of the princess did not become common talk - after the rumour of her not being the actual princess, a rumour of ill-health could only seek to relight that rumour once more.
Night had fallen before the Queen had come to a decision. She sent for the physician and waited in the same room they had spoke in. It was not long before he shuffled into the room, evidently weary of how late it was. "Your Majesty," he greeted.
"It is not my people who are in need of your treatment," she said, massaging her forehead. "It is a member of my court. My own physician declares it can only be possession but it cannot be, not now."
"Discretion?" he suggested. "You have nothing to fear, Your Majesty. It need only be the patient and I in the room, unless you require another to be present?"
"I will not hesitate to charge you with treason should your discretion fail," she threatened.
"I understand."
The Queen sighed. "It is my daughter who is in need of your treatment. If the cause of her illness is not found soon, I fear it may become fatal."
She did, however, send out word that she was looking for a physician. After her own royal physician was unable to tell her what was wrong with her daughter, she knew she would have to look elsewhere. She was not looking for one that knew everything that her own physician knew, no; she was looking for one that knew concoctions that he did not, and methods that were not commonly known. As much as she could not show weakness, she was afraid for her daughter. Possession was life-threatening, which was why she had not yet summoned a Priest of the Gods. She couldn't bare to hear the confirmation and was instead determined to find a different answer, one that she could accept.
By the time her sister had been visiting for a fortnight, the Queen had seen several physicians. Each she had spoke to about possession, claiming that she had received word that there was a supposed cluster of possessed peasants in the east, and needed to find a physician who did not need a priest to help with dealing with it. Truthfully, she wished to find a physician who would do all he could to eliminate the possibility of possession, and from those she had seen, they were all keen on confirming it. Just from the description of her daughter's illness, each physician determined that the peasants she spoke about needed to consult with a priest and enter into the House of the Gods for treatment. That option simply wasn't possible. Her daughter would not be leaving her so soon, not even for treatment. There must be something else that could be done.
It was mid afternoon when the Queen was disturbed. She had been sat by the fire with her ladies, thinking over the last council meeting they'd had while her ladies were doing needlework. They had broken for the festive period, as per normal, but she knew that there were important things needed to be discussed when they assembled again, and she wasn't sure she was looking forward to raising those topics. She had just placed down her goblet when the door opened and a man strode in. "Your Majesty, there is a physician wishing to speak with you," he announced.
Dismissing her ladies, she stood and smoothed her dress. "And will he provide the answers I seek? No, probably not. Nevermind, you," she muttered before looking at the man. "Well? Where is he? Send him in at once!"
The man bowed his head and hurried out, making her huff at his incompetence. A moment later an old, short man entered, his back hunched and robes swamping his body. She knew this meeting would be a waste of her time, but still she allowed him to sit once he had said the formalities.
"What is the likelihood of one being possessed?" she asked, already anticipating the answer.
The physician coughed into his hand and leaned forward. "Very rare. One must have a split mind and susceptible to evil doings, and both in one person is rarely heard of."
"Acting unlike one's self and intentionally injuring a part of their body, is that a sign of possession?"
"One might think, as is the common teaching, but possession is not acting unlike one's self, but rather being not one's self. A bout of being unlike one's self is a symptom of trauma, most likely unresolved, and is treatable within one's home unlike possession."
The Queen sat back in her seat and tapped her chin. That had not been the reply she had been expecting, and she certainly had not heard such a thing from any other physician she had spoke to. "Pray tell where you come from," she said, picking up her goblet.
"I come from the west, Your Majesty," he answered. "And I am not native to your kingdom."
That explained it, she thought. All the physicians she had spoke to were naturally her people, so they had each had the same teachings and believed the same way when it came to possession. She had never known what those who came from outside her land were taught, and frankly never bothered to pay it much thought, but now that it might help her daughter she was prepared to listen. "How would you be able to tell whether one is suffering from possession?"
The old man hesitated and brought out a handkerchief to dab at his lips. "Have you heard of a technique called hypnosis?"
"I do not believe I have."
"It is frowned upon in many lands, for reasons such as fear. It's the process of lulling one into a false slumber and calling forth the memories that plague their minds. It is a lengthy process, but once it has been carried out, if the patient still suffers from being unlike one's self, then possession is the likelihood," he explained. "The treatment for possession is recommended to be carried out in the House of the Gods - and I agree that is the best place - but hypnosis can be carried out in one's own home, provided there is suitable safeguards put into place."
The Queen absorbed his words. Hypnosis has never been mentioned to her and she did not think her own physician had ever been taught about it. She did not know whether it was truly a practice carried out in other kingdoms, but why else would this man speak of it? It must exist - and, indeed, must be taught - for him to have any knowledge of it, and if it was taught then it must work in some cases. Could she really take the risk with her own daughter?
Instead of responding to the physician straight away, she dismissed him to court, making sure he had a room and suitable provision for his stay. Then she paced her study, looking through all the medicine books that were kept there. Most she had never touched before, and had never intended to pick up either, as they were for her physician to have easy access to them whenever he had need to consult a book. Now, she was not sure whether she could go to him. He could give no explanation about what was wrong with her daughter and only suggested that possession may be the cause, whereas this new foreign physician had given her a different illness, one that could be easily contained and no one in court would need to know. It was imperative that the ill-health of the princess did not become common talk - after the rumour of her not being the actual princess, a rumour of ill-health could only seek to relight that rumour once more.
Night had fallen before the Queen had come to a decision. She sent for the physician and waited in the same room they had spoke in. It was not long before he shuffled into the room, evidently weary of how late it was. "Your Majesty," he greeted.
"It is not my people who are in need of your treatment," she said, massaging her forehead. "It is a member of my court. My own physician declares it can only be possession but it cannot be, not now."
"Discretion?" he suggested. "You have nothing to fear, Your Majesty. It need only be the patient and I in the room, unless you require another to be present?"
"I will not hesitate to charge you with treason should your discretion fail," she threatened.
"I understand."
The Queen sighed. "It is my daughter who is in need of your treatment. If the cause of her illness is not found soon, I fear it may become fatal."