by SJ Himes
“Goodnight, Jaime,” Master Eames said. “And welcome home.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jaime managed to speak without his voice cracking, but it was a close thing.
Master Eames gave him a kind smile and walked from the room, leaving Jaime alone to put the patient file back to rights. The room was lit by those exotic and strange lamps that held fireless light, and the setting sun cut through the windows with a warm glow. The wide space was empty, and Jaime set to wandering, curious. His guesses made earlier about what each space was reserved for in the wider area were correct, and he found himself engrossed in the sparkling clean silver instruments arrayed on cotton padding in the surgery corner. He’d only been taught the absolute basics of surgery, and some of the instruments he only knew on sight from his studies.
“Are you Jaime?” A new voice from behind surprised him, and Jaime twirled, yanking his hands back from the table holding surgery implements. A young man with a tall, thin frame and bird-like mannerisms tilted his head, blinking owlish eyes at him from behind thin spectacles. “Jaime Buchanan?”
“Oh! Yes! Apologies. Yes, I am Jaime.”
The young man took a step forward, holding out a hand, and Jaime clasped it, pleased by the firm grip and the no nonsense shake. The young man wore full healer’s robes, though lacking in the senior ranking badges. A full healer, but not one of the masters. His age was likely the reason, as he was about Maxim’s age, maybe a bit older. “My name is Jasper Greaves. I’ve been assigned as your mentor. You have the healing touch, yeah?”
Jaime nodded. “Yes, I do. Master Eames said the same for you?”
Greaves smiled, skin crinkling around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. A man who smiled often, his eyes were bright behind the glass of his spectacles. “Yes, the same. Of the fifty or so healers and students here in the palace, about twenty of us have the healing gift to various degrees. Until you arrived, I had the strongest measurable gift.”
Jaime frowned, wiping his suddenly damp palms on his thighs. “Um, sorry?” He was worried his new mentor would be jealous.
“No need to be sorry! I’m glad I don’t have the honors alone anymore. Too many people come to me directly, wanting me to heal everything from a bruise to a scar taken from a bad fall a few decades back. No matter how many times I say the healing gift shouldn’t or can’t be used for such ailments, I get nasty complaints. Now we’ll both get them, and I might get a break,” Greaves winked and smiled as he spoke, and Jaime cracked a smile of his own.
“I’ve had such requests before,” Jaime said, thinking back. Often, he’d complied, thinking it wouldn’t hurt. Sometimes the requests couldn’t be met, even by his gift, like re-growing a thumb lost to a poorly wielded scythe or scars that were decades old. Sometimes he could help old injuries, but most of the time, there was nothing he could do.
“Master Eames said you’re training resumes tomorrow, but we’re both here.” Greaves tilted his head toward the direction of the infirmary, and said, “Want to get to work now? I’ve got a handful of patients I need to see before supper.”
“Yes, sir.” Sitting alone in his room with nothing to do didn’t sound as appealing as proving his worth and getting to work. He feared he would spend the night obsessing over Prince Maxim regardless.
Jaime followed behind Healer Greaves as they left the large common room, crossed a small hall, and entered the infirmary. It was broken up into sections and far larger than Jaime could see from the residence hall. A couple of desks were beside the entrance, and a center aisle separated two rows of beds before the room took a sharp corner, opening to a barracks-style room with two dozen beds and white fabric screens on frames that could be moved to afford privacy. Tall windows filled the room with light, and unlit sconces marked even intervals along the walls, with a large fireplace at the far end. Small metal and brick stoves between every few beds provided warmth, with pipes on either side to draw the smoke out of the room. The infirmary seemed to be built in an area that was separate from the rest of the palace, a small wing that was surrounded by cleared courtyards and small trees. The high walls of the palace were visible from the windows on the right side of the long room.
Greaves let him gawk for a few moments before tugging on his sleeve and pulling him to a set of beds. A young man, about Jaime’s age, and an older man in the next bed over were both dressed in the red and white of the palace guard. The younger of the two men had an arm in a sling, his wrist and hand splinted to restrict movement. The older man sat upon his bed, feet on the floor, with a folded piece of cloth over one of his eyes, stained with blood.
“I would ask what happened,” Greaves said with a wry twist of his lips and a chuckle, “But since it’s the two of you again, I think it might be the same answer as last time. Training accident?”
“Yes, Healer Greaves,” the younger of the guards piped up, casting a quick, inquisitive glance at Jaime where he hovered at the end of the bed. “I slipped on some ice, and my practice sword clocked Rennie in the face. I hit the flagstones, and I think I broke my arm. Doesn’t hurt as bad as the sprain last month, but the medic said it was broken and sent me here. Rennie got a nasty cut over his eye, and I’m afraid I might’ve poked his eyeball out.”
“Eyeball’s still in my head, boy,” the older guard muttered, though he didn’t sound all that upset. His good eye lingered on the younger man, who blushed, his already dark skin getting rosy as he bit his lip and smiled. Jaime found himself smiling, too. The affection the two men had for each other was charming and obvious to anyone who had eyes to see. “See to Tanner first. He was bawling the entire way up here.”
“Well, there’s two of us, so how about we deal with both of you?” Greaves answered and motioned Jaime toward Rennie while he went and sat next to Tanner. Jaime snapped into motion, grabbing a small stool from the foot of the bed and setting it in place in front of Rennie. The older man eyed him dubiously but let Jaime take away the folded cloth from his left eye.
A wide cut started just above his eyebrow, bisected his brow, and the blow from the practice sword made enough contact with the actual eyeball that the whites were filling with blood from ruptured vessels. The eye looked intact still, and Jaime gave the guard a reassuring smile.
“Tell me what you’re seeing,” Greaves said from behind Jaime, and Jaime set aside the stained cloth before reaching for a clean pile that was stacked on the stand between the two beds.
He took a small fold of fabric and blotted the seeping blood while he replied to Greaves. “The eye is intact, but blood is spilling into the center and may impair his vision. The laceration isn’t deep, but wide enough it needs to be stitched or healed. I think he has a concussion, too, since his eyes aren’t dilating the same in response to the light.”
Jaime gripped Rennie’s chin in his hand, keeping the man from moving as he pressed the fabric back over the wound. He looked over his shoulder and saw light emanating from under Greaves’ hands as he healed Tanner’s arm. Greaves spared Jaime a glance, not surprised by Jaime’s evaluation of Rennie’s injuries. He likely heard as much from the medic before Greaves gathered Jaime in tow.
“Have you healed an eye before?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get on with it then. I’ll be watching from here. Make sure to mind his head injury.”
Jaime nodded without replying and set aside the fabric. Rennie looked nervous, taking in Jaime’s trainee garb. Jaime waited, and Rennie eventually settled, letting him start. Jaime gently placed his right hand over the man’s eye and made just enough contact to speed the healing along. Jaime shut his eyes, breathing deep, and sent his awareness out. Rennie did indeed have the beginnings of a minor concussion, but his eye was hurting him most of all. Jaime let his energy flow from his center, out to his hand, and sent it into Rennie. He healed the concussion first, since it was deeper inside the man’s body, and continued healing as he pulled his awareness back, sealing the cut with a thought. Pulling his gift back under control was h
arder than using his gift; once he let his walls down, the energy just wanted to flow everywhere it could, heedless of how exhausting it was for Jaime to focus it. He slowed the energy down, making sure to be careful with the eye. He could not push the blood back inside ruptured vessels, but he could seal them off, letting Rennie’s body absorb the blood back into itself naturally. The man would bruise, but the bruises would not get worse and would heal much faster than if Jaime had done nothing.
He opened his eyes as he dropped his hand. He used a clean corner of the stained fabric to wipe the blood from his hand, and his gift settled peacefully back within his center once he corralled it. Rennie blinked in surprise and ran his fingers over the place where the cut had been. Faint bruises marred the now healed skin, and his eye was still red, but the pupils were reacting normally to the light coming in from the windows. “Feel better?”
“Thank you, yes,” Rennie said, nodding slowly. Jaime handed him a clean cloth, and Rennie wiped the remaining blood from his face. Jaime smiled to himself at the stunned and slightly awed expression on the guard’s face, used to it. He felt amazing himself. It was the first time in over six months he felt normal again. Felt like himself. He could breathe again.
“It’s like it never happened!” Tanner exclaimed excitedly, only keeping his seat on the bed because Greaves put a hand out, stopping him. Greaves was unwinding the bandages and removing the splint, the wrist looking merely bruised. Those, too, would fade in a few days, the only sign that Tanner had been hurt.
“You’re both restricted to light duty for the next two days,” Greaves ordered, helping Tanner off the bed. Jaime took his cue and put away the stool, letting Rennie get to his feet. Greaves came over to Rennie and ran his hand lightly over the man’s face, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he examined Jaime’s efforts. He must have approved, as he gave them all a wide smile that crinkled his face along his nose and eyes and motioned the two guards toward the doors. “Get back to the barracks, and make sure to tell the captain you’re both on light duty. No exceptions. Sleep and rest so you don’t undo our efforts.”
“Thank you both,” Rennie said, and he grabbed at Tanner, pulling the excited younger man behind him as he strode from the infirmary. Tanner chatted the entire way, Rennie grumbling when Tanner paused to breathe. Jaime chuckled, watching as they reached the hall and disappeared.
Jaime looked expectantly at Greaves, who was staring back at him. Greaves held his gaze for a short moment, before nodding once. “Good job. Your transcripts weren’t lying. I think you’ll fit in just fine.”
Jaime waited anxiously, pacing a few steps before turning back around and walking back to the door. A message had come the night before, just after supper, asking if he would be available to tour the palace with the prince. He hadn’t gotten the message until after he was done with an emergency healing with Greaves, seeing the message on his pillow before he tumbled into bed.
Jaime had braved the late hour and knocked on Greaves’ door, whose room was in the same hall as Jaime’s, merely two doors down. Greaves, thankfully, didn’t tease him or offer him any words of warning about shirking his duty, telling him that, unless there was an emergency, Jaime would be free from lunch to supper. Jaime was to have the overnight shift in the infirmary with Greaves, keeping watch over the small handful of patients in the infirmary. An older man from the stables had come in the middle of the dinner hour with a broken hip and a shattered thigh bone, both of which wiped Greaves and Jaime out from healing, sparing them from duty the next morning. Without their combined efforts, the man, who was old enough to be Jaime’s grandfather, would not have survived the trauma. A horse had slipped and knocked the stable hand into a wall, before stepping on him.
The icy conditions outside might be pretty, but the stone of the palace was slippery, and broken bones and sprains were going to be a frequent injury during the winter months. Jaime had a feeling he would never be bored here in the palace.
It was now lunchtime, and his stomach rumbled at him. He’d slept past breakfast and was hungrier than he had been in days. He was contemplating sneaking off to the small side room beside the infirmary that stood in as a kitchen for the healers, when the main door to the healing wing opened, and Prince Maxim stepped through. Jaime paused, blinking, startled at how handsome the prince was in his shiny steel and bronze-colored armor. A lush, heavy cape hung dashingly from his shoulders, and he wore heavy boots that went up to his knees, showing off muscled calves. Jaime had no idea what any of the armor pieces were called, but the prince’s entire outfit showcased his sleek athletic frame and the power of his station in life.
“Good day, Jaime,” Maxim said, holding out his hand. Jaime lifted his own before his brain could catch up, and Maxim placed a chaste kiss to the back of his hand. Maxim’s lips were soft and warm, and Jaime’s breath caught in his chest. Jaime flushed from the top of his head to his toes, a rush of excitement making him feel alert and very focused on Maxim.
“Good day, Highness,” Jaime said softly, cheeks warm. A few healers were bustling about behind them in the common room, and Jaime didn’t want to risk being caught using the prince’s name by his superiors. Maxim was quick, as he quirked a brow in the direction of the healers over Jaime’s shoulder.
“Would you like to have lunch with me before we take the tour?” Maxim asked, tugging Jaime forward, fitting Jaime along his side under his arm. The prince smelled of winter air and pine.
“I am hungry, we had a long night,” Jaime replied, thinking about the emergency session in the middle of the night.
“I heard about it,” Maxim said, drawing Jaime to the door, opening it and guiding Jaime out into the impressive foyer. “I’m glad you and your mentor were able to help the poor man.”
Jaime’s thought that it was a main thoroughfare in the palace must be correct, as there were just as many people about today as there were the day before. Many were dressed as the prince was, heavy cloaks and thick garments for the winter weather. The crowds parted for Maxim’s passage, Jaime still tucked under his arm. Jaime spent a good portion of their journey sneaking glances up at the prince from under his lashes, and he blushed furiously every time Maxim caught him looking.
Instead of taking them back to the large dining room, Maxim led them through a series of halls, each growing smaller, until they came to a massive room, with fireplaces inlaid in each main brick wall. A small window was beside a heavy oak door, showing bright sky and the brilliant shine of fresh snow. A golden crown and a gryphon were etched into the door, and a bench laden with fur-lined boots in all sizes and hooks filled with lush cloaks and capes took up much of the limited space.
A tray of small meat pies was warming beside one of the fires, and a crock of steaming hot cider with spices was hanging near the glowing embers. “Food, then a tour of the grounds. Cook and Captain Marcus both said you haven’t been outside since you arrived.”
“No, I haven’t,” Jaime agreed, curious. “I don’t have winter gear, though.”
Maxim gestured to the bench. “Find a pair that fits. Cloaks and capes are arranged by size as well.”
Jaime bit his lip but did as the prince bade. “Whose stuff is this?”
Jaime sat, reaching for a pair of gray and brown furred boots. He toed off his plain leather and linen shoes, and tried on the new boots.
“These are here for guests of the crown. Most nobles and merchants come with their own gear; so, often, this room goes unused. I let the servants know we were coming,” Maxim said and held out a meat pie wrapped in wax paper. Jaime stood and accepted the pie, stamping his feet down into the boots. They fit perfectly, and the fur-lined interior softened pinch points. Jaime sniffed the meat pie, nibbling on the crust. Maxim grabbed a thick brown cloak from a wall hook and draped it over Jaime’s shoulders, securing the clasp under his chin.
The prince grabbed a pie and wrapped it, tucking it away in a padded leather pouch on his hip, then grabbed a mug and handed it to Jaime before getting one
for himself. “Ready?”
“Where are we going?” Jaime asked as the prince opened the heavy oak door, chill wind and bright sunlight making Jaime squint.
“The Solstice Festival has begun,” Maxim replied, ushering Jaime outside into a small courtyard. The palace rose high above them on all sides, and there was a gated tunnel protected by two guards bundled in heavy winter clothing standing at attention, eyes on their prince. “I wanted to share the faire with you. I’m required to attend the opening festivities with my siblings; so we’ll do that first then tour the palace.”
“Your…your siblings?” Jaime stammered, but he followed the prince as they approached a sleigh. A single brown and beige creature Jaime had never seen before was hitched to the sleigh, and a single servant sat on the bench in the front. Maxim assisted Jaime into the rear to a padded seat laden with thick blankets and slots in the wood to hold their mugs.
The driver cracked his whip, snapping the leather in the air over the odd beast’s ears. A low snort and the sleigh jerked forward, sliding with ease over snow-covered stones. They passed the guards, who gave short bows to the prince who nodded back.
The tunnel was lit by torches near the ceiling, and there were breaks in the rock over their heads that let in sunlight and random drifts of snow. The air was cold but without the harsh bite of the wind, and Jaime could feel the heat of the prince next to him. His mind was frantically trying to makes sense of why he was going with the prince to an official function for the crown, but no answer was forthcoming aside from the most terrifying of all—the prince wanted to be with him.
The tunnel was wide, but the height was shallow, making Jaime feel as if he would hit his head if he sat too tall in the sleigh. The trip was swift, and they broke free from the confines of the tunnel into a wide courtyard with guards in red and white, long spears in hand as they stood at attention. Maxim lifted a hand as they passed, their sleigh swallowed by shadows as they entered a new tunnel.
