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Kylin 52

While waiting for the Crown Prince to return, Morganne started pulling out salves and ointments for Selim, explaining to the queen what each one did and how it would help Selim last until the antidote to the treatment could be made. Kylin only half listened, seething in the knowledge that he had forgotten that coming here meant going face to face with the man who had chased Amelia and attempted to arrest her on Fanger grounds. It was apparent they trusted each other as far as they could throw, which only served to fuel Kylin’s dislike of the Crown Prince.

The Prince came back, something in his face tenser than before. He handed Morganne the vials of the doses, Kylin making sure he did not get too close. Morganne thanked him and then proceeded to inspect them carefully. An uncomfortable silence filled the void, no one particularly eager to start on small talk while Morganne was working.

When she finished viewing them in the sun, Morganne settled herself at the nearby desk and cleared a large space for herself, pulling more things out of her skirts that would help her test the doses. The prince raised his eyebrows at the amount she was able to hide away, but made no comment.

Selim’s room was the opposite of organized. Various decks of cards were on just about every available surface. The mantle above the fireplace was lined with objects arranged in no discernable manner. Books that Kylin would never have expected a prince of Harlofelp to have -such as books claiming to contain the religious practices of a northern Elven kingdom or collections of songs from the other side of the mountain range, or even books suggesting they taught gambling games- were given as much priority as the cards. The only thing in the room that had been properly put away were the books regarding education, all neatly arranged on a very dusty bookshelf.

Kylin cast a look over the books Selim had clearly been reading, wondering if he would get a chance to read them himself, when the queen and Crown Prince weren’t present to pass judgment for touching objects in the room. He was curious to see what exactly Selim had learned in these books and suspected it may have influenced his desire in joining the Rangers.

“Right,” Morganne said abruptly, causing everyone to be jolted from their thoughts. She stood up, oblivious to this. “It is fairly straight forward. These two doses should be his last- I’m fairly certain I’ll have the counter in the morning. It will take time, but the damage can be undone. For the time being, I would like to be taken to where I’ll be staying so I can start working on it.”

“Our healer has a place where you can prepare,” the queen began.

Morganne opened her mouth to politely object, but the Crown Prince spoke before she could utter a sound.

“No, that will not be necessary,” he said.

The queen looked at him, puzzled.

“I appreciate the offer, madam,” Morganne said, “but I would prefer to have it close by. Potion making is very precise, and if someone accidentally puts something innocuous as even a hair in, it can lead to disastrous results. I prefer to have a close eye on these things.”

The queen nodded, her confusion lessening some.

The Crown Prince gestured them to the door. “I can take you to your rooms.”

Morganne thanked him, shoving everything back into her pockets before heading out. Kylin followed closely behind. As the Prince took the lead, Morganne told Kylin a low voice, ensuring only he would hear her, “My biggest concern is that we got the clean version.”

Kylin bit the inside of his lip. He could understand why Morganne didn’t want to say it aloud- there was no telling how much the royal family knew, and how receptive the accusation of not getting the actual concoction Selim was given would go.

Nothing else was said on the way over, though Kylin suspected there were a couple of times the Prince wanted to bring something p.

When they arrived in the guest hallway, they were greeted by Ofjaet. He exchanged pleasantries with the Prince before the latter took his leave. The Diplomat then turned his attention to Kylin and Morganne.

“We have brought your packs to your room, Morganne,” he told her. “Including the apprentice equipment. What is your evaluation of the situation?”

“If it is as clear cur as I’m supposed to believe,” Morganne said, “it is fixable. The healer is old-fashioned and whoever Kendra said is trying to kill Selim is banking on htat. However, I suspect there’s something else. The queen said the healer is treating it aggressively, but even then, Selim is deteriorating much more quickly than the treatment should allow.”

“What is he being treated for?”

Morganne gave a look of absolute disgust. “The mere memory of the claim made Kylin’s blood begin to boil. The audacity of accusing Amelia of being capable of that . . .

“They were told he had been sealed under the obsession potion,” she said, her lip curling. “The healer was ‘unsealing’ it.”

Ofjaet pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Then took a deep breath, cleared his expression, and said, “I see. I trust it has been cleared up?”

“I would hope so,” Kylin interjected with a hint of ice.

“If it has not, then I will ensure the matter is settled before we make our journey home,” Ofjaet assured them.

Morganne let out an irritated sigh. “I should get started. Kylin, I will come for you when I return for Selim’s dose.”

Kylin nodded an she left. Ofjaet showed him where he would be staying at night, making a joke about not getting too used to it.

The room was quite spacious, perhaps the size of Amelia’s entire cottage. There were a couple of writing desks, a few small tables that seemed more decorative than useful, a window with a view of the city, and two large beds. One of the beds was already occupied by Preman. His equipment had been unloaded onto a nearby chair and he was spreadeagle, face down, on his selected bed nearest the window. After heard the click of the door, he called out in a muffled voice, “Kylin?”

Kylin slowly approached, wondering if his companion needed help.

“Yes?”

“Kylin, try the bed,” Preman said, not lifting his head. “But be wanred you may never get up again.”

Kylin glanced at the second bed. It mismatched him greatly- the bedclothes were finely woven, with golden designs wrapping into looping patterns across it. The pillows were neatly hidden under the decorative duvet, melding their form into the mattress. Like Selim’s, the mattress was held by an ornately carved bed frame with four posters -though simpler to denote the difference of status-, with curtains to close around the bed. The red shade of the curtains matched the duvet. There was nothing about it that expected the likes of a rugged, travel-worn Ranger.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed as though half-expecting it to reject him.

It was made to capture prisoners and entice them into an eternal deep sleep. And after many nights of getting comfortable on the ground and simple mattresses of straw, this mattress was nothing but sympathetic to the discomfort he never realized he suffered. It told him there was nothing he would like more than to lie down and just nap a little. After all, it would be a while before Morganne needed him again.

With that thought, he stood back up quickly. That was a trap. The moment he fell asleep would be the moment he would not get up again. He needed to stay alert. The soft touch of the duvet and cushion of the mattress could not be trusted.

Preman lifted his head at the sudden movement.

“Is there a problem?” he half-mumbled.

“I cannot see myself sleeping in that,” Kylin answered stiffly.

“Suit yourself.” Preman dropped his head to enjoy his luxury.

Unused to having nothing to do, not even having to keep an ear out for danger, Kylin began to wander around the room, opening drawers and doors to see what else it contained. However, it proved to be as boring as it was fancy. There was nothing of interest beyond his own things, which had been brought up from the stables. While he checked to make sure nothing was missing, he wondered how the stable boys fared with Vicious. He didn’t doubt for a second that she was giving them all sorts of issues.

At midday, a lunch was provided for them in an extravagantly decorated dining room. The crown princess waited for them at the head of the table. Just like the bed, the food was tantalizing, looking too good for there not to be a trap somewhere.

Taileia sat on the crown princess’s right, while Ofjaet sat opposite Taileia. The others were left to sit as they saw fit, barring the side opposite the princess.

Kylin had never met a princess before, but Princess Rovyna almost perfectly matched what he would have expected of a woman inheriting the throne. She kept herself carefully poised, a diplomatic smile on her face, and not hair on her head our of place. She was clothed in elaborate garments, in fabrics that the Veil would never think of seeing, sewn in the latest fashion of the city. She greeted them all cordially, ensuring her guests felt welcome.

“I hope everything is suitable,” the princess said, settling herself in her seat when her guests were seated themselves.

“We can hardly complain with the quality of hospitality,” Taileia answered. “We certainly have nothing to compare it to.

“And I have nothing to give myself an image of the Veil, nor anything to compare a taste of what it is like,” the princess said. “My life has been spent in walls much like this, with only windows and paintings of farther places. Perhaps you could indulge me and tell me what the Veil Forest is like?”

Her eyes were lit up with curiosity, readying to be amazed at all they had to tell her.

Ofjaet smiled at her. “Your highness, that is a vague question. One part of the forest will not be the same as another. Do you ask of scenery? Of the dangers? Of the benefits? I do wish to answer your question, but I would like to know what it is you seek.”

The princess shifted her attention to Ofjaet, but Kylin had a sense she was watching the rest of them out of the corner of her eye.

Still listening, Kylin turned his own attention to the food on his plate, searching for something that seemed most familiar to him to try first.

“I understand that to become a Ranger, you must cast off any loyalty or citizenship to any other nation or kingdom,” the princess said. “If that is so, then there must be a reason you cast it aside to live in an uncivilized and untamed forest.”

“There are as many reasons as there are Rangers,” Ofjaet replied, smile still in place. “Some do not join the Rangers for the forest, but as means of escape, taking up more domestic work after apprenticeship. Or their means of escape is for a change of authority. Still others join because they are drawn to protecting and maintaining the forest and its contents. I myself was drawn to the dryads and naiads of the forest. They are blessed with such a carefree outlook on life and in many ways are childlike, though they are often older than our ages combined, and may live beyond us.”

The princess leaned back in her chair. “Really?” she breathed. She looked at the rest of them. “I presume you have different reasons yourselves?”

There was a pause in which quick glances were cast to Ofjaet to determine if offering such information was deemed acceptable to share. Ofjaet indicating no objection, Morganne answered next.

“Both of my parents were Rangers, madam,” Morganne explained. “Having no other experience and plenty of evidence to discourage village life, continuing in their footsteps was the logical route to take.”

“The Rangers permit marriage?”

“Most certainly,” Ofjaet said. He gestured to Taileia. “She is my wife. Childrearing has been a more unique challenge than for those marriages where only one is a Ranger, or neither are. However, being a Ranger is often a lifetime commitment, and the experiences of what life offers us are not denied us.”

As intriguing as the information was to her, the princess was not wholly distracted from her original question.

“Has the parental influence of being a Ranger impacted any of you?” she asked, gesturing to Preman and Kylin.

Preman gave a humorless laugh. “My father was a soldier. If he influenced me any, it was to steer me away from being like him. Rather, I joined for I had no family eft, and the Randers had always treated me with kindness.”

Making a comment of acknowledgment, the princess eyes slid from Preman to Kylin.

Up to this point, Kylin had been happy to be an onlooker, taking small bites of what was on his plate and debating whether or not it was better than what he would eat in the Veil. Overall, the food was enjoyable, though rich, not needing too large a portion to satisfy him. However, he could not see himself eating this every day for the rest of his life.

An opinion, though, that was not waited for.

Realizing she wouldn’t ignore him, he answered with a note of finality so she would not expect more from him, “The forest’s bestiary is what intrigued me.”

The princess’s eyes lingered on him before going to Taileia, who deflected with a question of her own.

“With such interest in the Veil, perhaps you will visit yourself and discover what we love firsthand?”

The princess smiled warmly. “I should like to one day, I think,” she replied. “Perhaps when the matter with Prince Selim is settled, though. After all, there still is the matter of kidnapping.”

There was a shift in the air, a breath of tension.

“What part do you expect us to have in that?” Taileia asked, leaning forward. Her expression was innocent, unaccusatory.

“No more than you are responsible for,” the princess answered calmly. “However, a felony was committed, and I am not one to go gallivanting about when I have responsibilities to attend to.”

“And admirable trait,” Taileia responded. “A country can respect a queen-to-be who remains true to her responsibilities. Especially when other leaders neglect them for other matters.”

The princess tilted her head, still smiling. “Is there one that you know of?”

The name of the current king was at the front of everyone’s mind. Even the princess knew it. But to be so bold as to accuse her father-in0law in her home was not wise, to say the least.

“Plenty,” Taelia said. “But what good is my opinion that you would want more than that?”

“The women studied each other carefully, searching for hidden meaning in their words.

“Well, we are grateful for your assistance with the prince all the same,” the princess said finally. “And we are quite thankful, though surprised, that you arrived so quickly. We did not realize you had received our message so soon.”

“You sought our help.” It was neither a statement nor a question. It was just something flatly said, an attempt to remove surprise from her tone.

A surprise the princess caught and noted. “Of course. We felt if there was anyone who could help, it would be you.”

Kylin exchanged a glance with Morganne. Kendra had made it seem as though the royal family did not know about the assassin. Yet if their help was sought out, did it not stand to reason they suspected something?

Ofjaet cleared his throat. “I am surprised that you thought highly enough of our healing prowess to overcome the prejudice and invite us to help.”

“No one else would be so bold as to defy the royal healer’s diagnosis and treatment,” the princess explained. “The last one who was is no longer welcome here. There was an uncomfortable silence. Less because of the remark made of Amelia, but more of the princess’s reference to the royal healer.

Kylin resisted the urge to look at Morganne again, to catch a glimpse of her reaction. He knew that the princess would see it and judge it.

“It is true that we are more willing,” Ofjaet agreed. “We do not have to deal with the social repercussions. The solders in the Veil will never think highly of us, and the villagers put more weight and trust in their own healers.”

“I see.” Her tone made it clear that the silence had not slipped by her. “So you received no message from us, yet you are here?”

�� “We knew the prince was ailing,” Ofjaet said. Adding firmly, “And we wished to ensure that no ill will would be held against us for it.”

They regarded each other carefully, yet keeping in place their cordial expressions.

Oh so thankfully, the princess moved on from the topic, returning to something a lot more acceptable, such as Ofjaet’s dealings with dryads.

After lunch, Morganne laid our her expectations and plans regarding Selim’s care. Though there would already be a guard watching him, Morganne stated she would be more comfortable if one of their own watched Selim, especially when she wasn’t there to keep an eye on his symptoms herself. When she went to administer his next dose, she took Preman with her, putting Kylin on the second watch of the night.

Still distrusting trap known as the bed, Kylin pulled the bedclothes off and made a nest by the fire. Then he settled in to get some sleep before his shift.

#between the veil and crown #kylin #rough draft #finally #FINALLY got this done

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