Eldan
Amelia had to read the note through a second time in order to grasp all its meaning.
“I’ve been asleep for an entire day?” She threw the note down on the bed and poured herself a cup of coffee. After a few sips and a few good eye-rubs, she started to notice the space around her.
The bedroom was beautifully designed. Simple, and elegant, not unlike Victoria’s place, but with a slightly different style. The bedsheets were a dark blue, silk, and the duvet on top was the most plush thing Amelia had ever touched. There was a cherry hardwood desk with a nice padded office chair pushed underneath it. A dark wood dresser with metal knobs that had delicate etchings of leaves and flowers carved into them.
Amelia walked over to it, placing her mug on top, and on a whim, she opened one of the drawers. Inside were neatly folded stacks of women’s clothes –– nice women’s clothes. They didn’t even look like something you could find in District Eight. She pulled out one of the shirts sitting on top of a pile. It was flowy and somewhat see through. The fabric felt like a cloud resting gently on her fingertips. Amelia felt an odd sensation fluttering around her stomach, like butterflies who lost their sense of direction.
Who do these clothes belong to? Does Eldan bring home a lot of strange, injured women?
Why do I care?
She balled the shirt up lazily and threw it back inside. She slammed the door closed. It made a louder sound than she was anticipating and she instinctively looked over her shoulder. She kept forgetting she was actually allowed to be there. She couldn’t shake the lurking sense that she was doing something wrong simply for existing in such an elegant, extravagant place.
As if the universe was validating her fears, a knock came at the door and then a voice, collected and feminine, asked politely, “Hello? May I come in?”
Amelia smoothed down the front of the coat, as if that would do much to help her appearance at this point, and cleared her throat. “Uh, yes. Come on in.”
A man entered the room. He was tall, very skinny, and wearing a black suit with a sublet grey pinstripe pattern. He came only a few feet inside the room and brought his hand behind his back. “Good morning. I am Garcia. I’m Prince Eldan’s head of house.”
Amelia frowned and then let out a small, impolite laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said through awkward chuckles. “Did you say Prince Eldan?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Eldan is the Prince of the Meldanian dragons. And you are…” he trailed off.
“Amelia,” she said. “Amelia Co––” She stopped herself midway of saying her last name, unsure whether or not this man was from the district, and therefore how much significance he might put on knowing her ancestry. “Just Amelia.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I have been instructed to check in with you and make sure you have everything you need. Eldan had to go take care of some business and meet with his father today, but he will be back as soon as he can. The clothes in those drawers are for you to wear and there is breakfast being served in the kitchen.”
Amelia took her coffee mug off of the dresser and drank, desperately. She was going to need a lot more caffeine to deal with this day, that much she knew. “May I ask,” she said once the cup was empty and as she poured herself a second one. “Where are we exactly?”
“Meldania,” he said flatly.
She wasn’t watching the liquid, and soon the hot coffee was spilling over the top of the mug, down her hand, and onto the carpet. “Oh shoot! Sorry.” She got down on her knees and tried to use the sleeve of Eldan’s coat to wipe up the spill.
Garcia was on his knees next to her. “Allow me.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, shooed Amelia away from the stain, and started to blot at it methodically. “This shouldn’t be a problem. I know just the thing to get this stain out.”
Amelia stood back up and pulled on the edges of the coat. “We’re outside of the districts you mean?” Amelia felt her palms begin to sweat as she remembered what Eldan had said in the car, about how he knew people who would look the other way as he snuck her over the border. She had been so tired and scared, she didn’t think about the consequences of sneaking out of Eight. “What about the law? It’s illegal to take someone out of the districts without filing the proper paperwork.”
“I realize this is a lot to take in,” said Garcia from the ground. “And it may be hard to believe, as someone who comes from a cruel place like District Eight, but somebody has actually done something very nice for you. If I were you, I would stop trying to poke holes in this kind gesture and start enjoying the benefits of it.” He stood up. “The Prince said you are welcome to stay here as long as you like. If you should wish to go back to Eight instead, he said you can use one of his drivers. Seeing as you no longer have your ID chip, going over the border you would not set off any of the detectors. That being said, once you are back, there will be nothing more the Prince can do for you. Is that what you’d like to do?”
He waited for a response, but Amelia didn’t have one at the moment.
“Uh,” she said. “I, um, okay. Can I just have a minute? To get dressed and maybe eat something? Then I will figure out what I want to do… if that’s okay… sir.”
Garcia smiled, this time more genine and less polite. Apparently, he wasn’t used to being called sir. “Yes, that is quite alright. Come find me when you’ve made your decision.”
And with that, he excused himself, and once again, Amelia was all alone.
She was careful, while sitting in the tub of the bathroom adjacent the bedroom, to not get her bandages wet. The area around her wound was starting to change from the natural olive of her skin tone to a purpley-gray color, and her whole upper arm was sore. She thought it was probably a good idea to wash it, but she didn’t know what products to use, if any, or if she should just use water. She’d never experienced an infected cut before, surprisingly enough considering where she grew up, and she always called Victoria before doing anything medically related.
This time, she figured it was best to do nothing and let Eldan’s doctor sort everything out. She wondered if they had different doctors here in Meldania, if it would be another shifter who examined her. What if he doesn’t know human biology, only dragon? She thought, for a moment, that she better give Victoria a ring and see if she has ever heard of the doctor before she lets him poke and prod.
But she couldn’t do that. She came to that sobering realization while she pulled the plug on the bath and watched the water swirl down and away. You couldn’t call a residence in District Eight from an outside region, not unless you wanted District Eight officials listening in on everything you said. Which, Amelia did not. She could get in a lot of trouble if they thought she took out her own ID chip and tried to run away.
The only way she would be able to have contact with Victoria, or her family, would be for her to go back home. She’d have to leave all of this luxury and relaxation behind, and head back into the harsh world of ten-hour shifts, sick babies, and horrible parents.
Her brain played a game of tug of war, going back and forth between the two options, weighing the pros and cons, and tugging at Amelia’s already frail heartstrings. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she needed to go home. Her life was there, her siblings were there, and even though District Eight was disgusting and dangerous, it was her home.
That being said, Amelia didn’t see the harm in sticking around Meldania for the rest of the day. She had already missed her shift at work yesterday, meaning she was going to have to face the wrath of her boss anyway, she might as well get a good meal and a day of rest out of it. Besides, she wanted to see Eldan one last time before she left, to thank him for his generosity.
She ended up spending most of the day wandering around Eldan’s house, which was really more like a mansion. After her bath, Amelia picked out a simple outfit from the dresser –– a cotton, slim fit tank top and some flowy cotton pants –– and went looking for the kitchen. She got lost three times
in the process, and it didn’t help that her stomach was growling at her, angrily, as she walked down the various hallways, tentatively opening up doors and peering in. Finally, she found it, or rather, her nose did. There was so much food set out, Amelia thought for sure the cooks must’ve been preparing for some sort of party. But upon asking, she was informed that this was just the amount of food they prepared each morning and told her she was free to have as much as she liked. She did, eating as much as her stomach could hold, and almost making herself sick.
On her way out of the kitchen, she saw a note sitting on the counter underneath a landline which hung on the wall. It said the name Dr. Ivan on it and underneath was scribbled a phone number. She picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello, this is Dr. Ivan.”
Amelia had expected to get some sort of secretary or assistant and was a little taken aback to hear the actual doctor introduce himself on the other end.
“Uh, hi. My name is Amelia, I’m a––”
“Eldan’s friend, yes, hello. I’ve been expecting your call.”
“Right. Well, I guess Eldan told you then, that I––”
“Had an unfortunate run in with some criminals who removed your ID chip, yes. He told me everything.”
Amelia nodded to herself, trying to figure out how she felt about this stranger knowing everything that’s happened to her, and about the fact that she was walking around without an ID chip, which was a criminal offense in District Eight.
“I have time to come check you out later this afternoon, does that work for you?” The doctor’s voice was chipper, which was not something Amelia was used to when dealing with medical professionals. “Eldan said he was worried it might get infected. I offered to come look at the wound yesterday, but he said you were sleeping and he didn’t feel comfortable having me examine you without your permission.”
“That was… very kind of him,” said Amelia.
“Yes, he’s a very considerate man. So, this afternoon? Around three?”
“Sure, yeah.” Amelia checked the clock hanging on the wall to her left. It was just after eleven. “Three works.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
The line clicked dead and Amelia hung up the receiver.
On the counter behind the phone was a coffee machine. She grabbed the pot and a mug from the cupboard above it and poured herself a cup. Without asking if it was okay, she took the coffee to go and began her day of exploration.
Her bedroom had been upstairs, on the second level. The kitchen was on the main level, along with a dining room, living room, a home office attached to a small library, three bathrooms, and another spare bedroom. Amelia spent a long time in the office/library, trying to imagine what it would be like to work in such a quiet, serene place. She didn’t think she could do it –– she sort of liked all the noise of the nursery, it kept her from thinking too much, which was always a good thing. Besides, it seemed very lonely, being holed up in this room all day, never talking to anyone. It wasn’t like Bud was a great conversationalist or anything, but she was a good listener, as were the rest of the babies Amelia took care of.
Upon leaving the home office, she found a staircase, separate from the grand on which sat near the front entrance of the house, and ascended to the second and then to the third floor. As opposed to the layout of the second floor, which housed two medium sized guest bedrooms and two adjacent bathrooms, the third floor only had one rather large master bedroom with a beautifully big bathroom attached. Amelia guessed before she even fully stepped inside the room that it must’ve been the Prince’s. Unless, she worried herself as she walked across the hardwood floors towards the four poster bed, it’s the king’s bedroom.
If Prince Eldan lived here, it wouldn’t be much of a leap to assume the King did as well. And the Queen as well, although Eldan did not mention anything about his mother. She started to feel uneasy about her snooping. It was one thing to wander into the Prince’s room, a man she knew and had saved her life, it was another thing to go waltzing into the King and Queen’s bedroom without an invitation. She turned on her heel and made for the door, stopping only for a quick second to look at a framed photograph which sat on the dresser. It was of a young man, with a similar skin tone to Eldan’s, holding an adolescent shifter boy on his shoulders. They are both grinning and the little boy is making his eyes go cross eyed. It made Amelia smile.
There was a sound from down the hall. Panicked, Amelia put the picture down and slipped out of the bedroom just as a Meldanian woman, dressed in work clothes, came upon the last step of the staircase and rounded the corner.
“Oh, hi,” the woman said when she saw Amelia. She sounded out of breath. “I didn’t see you there.” She had light blue skin and was about the same height as Amelia.
“I was just looking for a bathroom,” Amelia said a bit too defensively.
The woman frowned at her and pointed down the hall. “There’s one down there.”
Amelia nodded and whispered a thank you, then tried to walk past but the woman put a hand out and stopped her. “Do you work here?”
“No,” said Amelia. “I’m a friend of Prince Eldan. I was just staying here for a few days.” She took a sip from her coffee mug, which was in fact empty, as a way to look more at ease. “My name is Amelia.”
The woman gave Amelia a once over and shrugged. “Whatever,” she said. “It’s none of my business who the Prince shacks up with. I’m just the lady who vacuums and changes the sheets. Are you staying in there with him?” She gestured behind Amelia to the bedroom she’d just come out of. “Do you need new sheets?”
Amelia made an overly loud, uncomfortable sort laughing sound. “Oh, no. You don’t understand. It’s not like that. We barely know each other ––”
The woman put her hands up by her head. “Hey, I’m not here to judge. Just trying to do my job.”
“I just mean… we are friends, that’s it.” Amelia punctuated the point by swiping her free hand, palm down, out in front of her as if wiping an imaginary table. “I am staying in the guest bedroom downstairs.”
The woman smiled and gave a single, curt nod. “Fine. Like I said, I don’t care. If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to get passed you.” The broad shouldered shifter woman meandered past Amelia. “These sheets aren’t gonna’ wash themselves!”
Amelia, still feeling embarrassed over what just happened, decided it was now the perfect time to go look for some lunch and wait for Dr. Ivan to arrive.
All the breakfast food had been cleared out and replaced with a colossal lunch spread which included an array of sandwiches, salads, soups, and even a few dessert plates. Again, Amelia did not try to contain herself and ate more than she probably should have.
It was nearing three when she finished eating. There were french doors on the back wall of the kitchen, which led outside to a nice patio area with comfy outdoor furniture and a beautiful view of the backyard gardens and fountains. Amelia sat out there, digesting and dozing, until a member of the house staff came to inform her that the doctor had arrived.
He was standing in the living room, carrying a small leather bag and wearing a lab coat. “Hello,” he said, smiling. “I’m Dr. Ivan. You must be Amelia.”
“Yes.” She waved. “Hi.”
“If you would please sit down.” He motioned to a wooden chair that had been nabbed from the dining table and placed in the middle of the room. Amelia sat, her wounded arm facing the doctor, and watched as he opened his bag and pulled out a stethoscope, syringe, and a small glass bottle full of light pink liquid. “I’m just going to listen to your heart first, if that’s okay.” Without waiting for a response, he pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope to her chest and instructed her to breath in deeply. She did as she was told.
“Good,” he said taking out the ear pieces and wrapping the whole contraption around his neck. “Healthy as a horse.” He started to gently unwrap the now brown, crusty bandages around Amelia’s arm. “This is some deep
cut,” he said once the skin was fully exposed. “I guess that makes sense, ID chips are implanted well beneath the surface. It’s definitely infected too, but it isn’t too bad. We probably won’t have to cut the arm off.”
Amelia shot him a look of panic and tried to pull her arm away, but the doctor just laughed and patted her on the hand. “It was only a joke.”
He straightened up and started to fiddle with syringe, filling it up with the pink liquid. “This should do the trick. Then I’m going to wash the wound and rebandage it. I want you to do that twice a day,” he said. “And you need to stay away from bacteria and dirt, anything that could get you sick for the next few days.” He flicked the syringe once and plunged the needle into Amelia’s arm, just beside the wound.
She flinched, mainly out of surprise, and opened her mouth to ask a question, but Dr. Ivan talked over her.
“It’s a good thing you’re staying here. This place is clean as soap itself. You should be fine in a few days, as long as you do what I tell you.”
“But I’m going home tonight, to District Eight. I have to get back to work.”
The doctor frowned. “Where do you work?”
“At a nursery, in the District Eight hospital.”
He balked. “Absolutely not! You cannot go to such a filthy, infested place with an open wound and a weakened immune system. There’s no way.”
“But I have to,” said Amelia. “I can’t lose my job.”
Dr. Ivan stared at her for a few seconds, then reached into his bag and pulled out a packaged toilet and some fresh gaze. “Use a wet cloth,” he said, taking out the toilet. “Or one of these, and gently rub the wound twice a day. Let it dry completely and then put on fresh gauze.” He started to clean the wound. “Does Eldan know of your plans to leave?”
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