In Your Eyes

Arella sulked in the library the next day. It was almost noon and her father had dragged her there.

“At least sit there,” he said firmly as she tried to argue. “It’s one hour, Arella.”

“I’m not talking to her,” she said stubbornly.

He didn’t answer; he just shut the door behind him. She had sat down moodily with the nearest book and tried to focus as she waited for the dratted doctor to come so she could sit out the hour and go back to her room.

There was a light knock on the door and she sighed as the doctor walked in.

“Good afternoon, your Majesty,” the doctor said, sitting across from you. “How are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting from me,” she said bluntly, “but you’re wasting your time.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not talking about anything with you.”

The doctor sighed and tilted her head to the side. “Why not?”

“This is a family matter,” Arella snapped. “You are not family. You are a stranger.”

“Yet you won’t talk to your parents,” the doctor observed and Arella hesitated. “You have to talk to someone, your Majesty. If you don’t, you’ll just continue to hurt and might even make yourself sick.”

“I don’t care if I get sick,” Arella muttered, staring out the window.

“Why?”

She could feel tears starting to prick her eyes and stood up.

“I’m leaving.”

She went to turn the handle and found it locked.

“Please sit down,” the doctor said from behind her and anger surged through Arella.

“Have you locked me in!?” she yelled, glaring at the doctor. “Who do you think you are!?”

“Please sit down,” she repeated calmly.

Arella’s chest heaved. “You want me to talk to you yet you lock me in the room!”

“I didn’t lock you in. Sit down.”

Arella shot her a venomous look and sat back down.

“Then who did?”

“Your father,” she said calmly and looked around. “You must love having all these books around you. Do you read a lot?” Arella didn’t answer, just continued glaring at her. “I’ve heard much about you, Arella, even before your parents wrote to me. It seems the rumors of your stubbornness were true.” The doctor arched her brows, obviously expecting Arella to answer but she didn’t. “You have two choices, Arella. You can either talk to me about something until the hour is complete, or we sit in silence for the hour.”

“I chose silence,” she said immediately.

The doctor nodded and sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. “I figured as much.”

And so they sat in silence. The doctor continued to stare at her and Arella shifted uncomfortably. For nearly half an hour she looked around anywhere but at the doctor.

“Stop staring at me!” Arella yelled finally.

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me uncomfortable,” she snapped.

“Sitting in silence and watching you makes you uncomfortable?” Arella narrowed her eyes. “I wonder if it makes others uncomfortable, too.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“At meal times, what do you talk to your parents about?”

“We don’t talk about anything.” The doctor nodded and Arella blinked. “Well, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“Are you sure of that?”

The clock showed there were just a few minutes left and she stood. She heard the door unlock and walked to it. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder.

“They may be ready to abandon my brother, but I’m not,” she said and left, slamming the library door behind her.

-

Arella went on a walk on the grounds to blow off some steam. She walked briskly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her vision was blurry with tears of anger and she considered visiting her brother. As she turned the corner, though, she slammed into someone and stumbled back. She tripped on the hem of her dress but, before she fell, the person grabbed her wrist.

“Sorry.”

It was the doctor’s son. He was dressed in a simple white cotton shirt and black trousers. He quickly let go of her wrist.

“What are you doing?” she asked, straightening her dress.

“Mother says fresh air is good for me,” he answered, looking up at the blue sky.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sick,” he said simply.

“Do you need a chamber pot?” she asked, taking a step back. “I don’t much fancy having someone vomit on the ground.”

He laughed and she glared at him. “Not that kind of sick, your Highness.”

He bowed and turned the corner, leaving her to watch him walk away.

--

Mathias continued his walk with his hands behind his back. His mother was right; the princess was a hard case. He wondered if his mother could help but he had seen her help many others. For a while he had wondered why she couldn’t help him but he decided to look into her books and saw that she was right. Whatever was wrong with him was new to many physicians.

He walked back into the cool air of the palace and made it to the foyer before his body jerked. He groaned and leaned against the staircase as he felt the familiar jerking sensation start in his stomach. He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, trying to remember the different breathing exercises his mother had taught him. It was no use, though, and he fell forward, losing consciousness.

When he came to, he was in the bedroom they had set up for him. His mother was beside him, checking his pulse and he groaned.

“Do you need some water?” she asked and he nodded.

“How did I get up here?”

“Arella found you,” she explained, “and had a servant carry you up here.”

“You were right about her,” he said, struggling to sit up.

“She’s a tough nut.”

She propped the blankets up behind him and rummaged in his bag for his medicine.

“These should help.”

She looked guilty as she put his bag back and he held her hand.

“It’s okay,” he assured her.

“I’m a doctor,” she whispered, “and you’re my son. I should be able to keep you healthy.”

“Some things just can’t be helped,” he said and suddenly his stomach lurched. “Help.”

She thrust a sick bucket into his hands and rubbed his back as he retched. He fell back onto the pillows with a long sigh and she brushed his black hair out of his face. His blue eyes were misty from the pain and, soon, the medicine helped him drift into a comfortable sleep.