Royal Pains

by CN Thornton

  His response was short and too… formal. This wasn't the Sebastian I knew. I could tell he was in bad shape.

  Bash, I hope you are taking care of yourself. I can't imagine the pain you are in, after all. The only loss I've suffered was people I hardly remember, so I can't give you any advice.

  But I can tell you this. Your sister wouldn't want you to let her passing completely obliterate you. Just… live every day for her, okay?

  I love you so much Bash, and I miss you.

  Take care.

  I had my problems, but Bash was my priority right now. I couldn't dump my worries and woes on him when he was in this shape. I wasn't that selfish.

  I checked my inbox for a response from Liam but there was none, so I signed off and headed back to my apartment. I was tired and needed a good night's sleep.

  Coming up the stairs to the second-floor landing, I stopped in my tracks, startled as Theodore stepped outside his apartment.

  "Where were you?" he asked, curiously.

  My mouth went dry as I fumbled through my mind for a quick response. "I just… I, er, I went for a walk."

  "To where?" he pressed.

  I bit my lip. "To go see Christine. We were kinda in the middle of talking about girl stuff when you came to see me this evening."

  "Girl stuff?" he questioned, folding his hands behind his back.

  I nodded. "Unless you want to be the one I come to about my periods and how to ease cramps and remedies for bloating and constipation—"

  He held up his hands, clearly put off. "Aye, no thank you. Sorry I asked," he said before starting off towards the stairs to the main floor.

  I wondered where he was going this late at night.

  When I closed my bedroom door behind me, Moana was waiting up. She gave me a stern look. "You mustn't leave like that this late at night, especially when there are no guards on patrol in the halls."

  I rolled my eyes. "I think I can take care of myself, thank you very much," I replied.

  As I made towards my bedroom, Moana grabbed my arm. "Forgive me, Princess, but I must warn you. There are people that will do anything to bring down the monarchy—the rebels. They don't like how things are done, or the decisions that are made. If one was to sneak in and cross your path…" She didn't bother finishing her sentence.

  "Okay," I lied. "I'm sorry. I promise to never wander the halls at night alone. Goodnight." I rushed to my room before she could stop me again, not feeling like arguing tonight.

  I just wanted to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The next morning, Anya let me know Theodore had requested to have lunch with me out in the garden. I wanted to decline, but decided against it.

  By eleven-thirty he was knocking at my door. We made our way down to the gardens and took a seat at the table, where Theodore looked at me intently.

  "I want to get to know you better," he said as I lifted a bite of salad to my mouth. I glanced up at him from under my lashes.

  "Why?"

  "You see, I know about a hundred ways to make you angry, but I never know exactly how to make you happy. What is that saying the American's use… er… happy wife, happy life, yes?"

  I lifted my chin to look at him properly.

  "I don't think I know what makes me happy anymore, Theodore. At least in this country. Back home it would be Sebastian. He's been my best friend since we were young. He saved me from my uncle's abuse by giving me a safe place to live."

  His shoulders lifted and fell as he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving my face. Did he know I had snuck out last night to go to the library and message Bash?

  I closed my eyes and refocused my mind.

  "What is your favorite thing to do, then? Let's start with that."

  "Easy. Photography," I said before taking another bite.

  "Would you like it if you had a camera?" he asked.

  I tilted my head to the side, considering it. "It would make me feel better, but it wouldn't fix everything."

  "I wouldn't expect it to. Now, while we are on the subject I must mention that we have an appointment with the painter. He is going to be painting a portrait of you and me that will be displayed at the wedding and afterward hung with the other royal pictures."

  "Do you really need me to be there? I can get a picture of me and a picture of you and photoshop it. It'd be much quicker and less taxing," I suggested.

  Theodore's lips pressed into a hard line. "It is either my way or I will have the painter use the picture of you I have in my bedroom."

  "You have a picture of me in your room?" I asked in disbelief.

  "Yes, and a very embarrassing story to accompany it, if you wish to hear it."

  I nodded and waited for him to begin.

  "When I was growing up, our engagement was never a secret. Your mother constantly sent me pictures and video so I could have some connection to who you were as the years moved on. Well, anyways, when I was about fourteen I wanted to know what it was like to kiss someone, since I had seen Christine and Alexander doing it."

  "No way!" I laughed after taking a sip of lavender tea. I leaned forward with a grin on my face and listened to Theodore continue his story.

  "Yes, I had this one picture of you that was so beautiful. It had been painted for me as a birthday gift. Well, my valet came in one day and saw me kissing it. I was a late bloomer, so I was really short and had to stand on a chair to reach it. It got so wet from my slobber it had to be taken down and cleaned—and if things couldn't get worse, Alexander found out." He smirked.

  "Hey, I think it's adorable," I told him.

  He nodded and then his face suddenly grew serious. Steepling his fingers, he let his eyes move over me before he spoke.

  "Tell me, how are you doing? I know at the beginning of this all…" He gestured to the room. "You weren't exactly keen on the changes and expectations that would take over."

  I shrugged my shoulders. Ladies of Linacre weren't supposed to shrug their shoulders, and I knew that. But the agreement between Theodore and myself was that when it was the two of us, I didn't need to be so proper. In the company of others, though…

  "I guess I'm adjusting. It's been, what, nine weeks and four days since I arrived at the palace."

  He nodded his head, then jumped into talking about the wedding that was getting closer with every waking day.

  I spaced out completely as Theodore went on about expected guests and our final fittings. I felt so tired and the sunshine was doing nothing to help my headache. On top of it, my voice wasn't getting any better—it was getting worse. Theodore had my ladies giving me honey and tea four times a day now.

  It wasn't until Theodore called my name that I snapped back to reality.

  "Are you not feeling well?" he asked me.

  "I just have a headache and I didn't exactly sleep well last night. It's been uncomfortably warm in my room."

  "You should have your ladies leave a window open to let in some of the night air. As for your headache…" He leaned forward and pressed his fingers to my temples, then began to massage using small circles.

  It ached, but in a good way. I could already feel the pressure of my headache lessening. When he finished, the headache was barely noticeable.

  "Better?" he asked, and I smiled. "That was a stress headache. I have been getting them since I was a teenager. My father taught me that trick, and funny enough it was your father that taught him, amazing man he was. I can see why my father adored him so much."

  I looked at him and the dams broke loose—tears poured from my eyes as I began crying hysterically. I managed a "sorry" to Theodore as I excused myself and ran back to the palace to take shelter in my bedroom. After a while, it became clear Theodore wasn't going to check on me. I even half assumed he had informed my ladies to not bother me either, because they would normally be at my side during moments like this, doing anything and everything they could to help me feel better. Even if it was a waste of time.

  Dinner was announced h
ours later, but I didn't want to move from my bed. The hole in my heart demanded to be felt, so any hunger pains were easily ignored. The sun began to set soon enough, signaling the end of the current day.

  My ladies came in wanting to prepare me for bed. I shooed them away, but not before getting a look at the worry on their faces.

  I fell asleep that night only to wake up feeling too warm, like I had just been in a sauna. My clothes were damp and my body coated in a sheen of cold sweat. I could detect a pain in my forehead and a soreness in my throat, and my body ached terribly.

  "Mo—" I coughed deeply, which caused my chest to feel like it was on fire. "Moana," I called out as loud as I could with my hoarse voice. I heard no response, no sound of feet shuffling against the floor.

  I coughed again and felt tears spring to my eyes from the burning in my chest. I needed water. Water would ease some of the pain, right?

  Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I felt an unnatural weakness in my body. Something wasn't right.

  "Moana!" I called again, only managing a whisper.

  Slipping from my bed, I steadied myself on the bed post. My knees wanted to buckle beneath my weight, I was sweating bullets again and my head throbbed madly.

  Staggering, I made my way from my bedroom, taking my time and clutching various items to keep me upright.

  "Moana," I called again before the coughing began.

  I leaned against the door to the ladies' room and waited for the burning in my chest to stop. Opening the door, I called for Moana again.

  Finally, I heard stirring. Someone had woken up.

  "Princess?" Saoirse whispered as she made her way to my side. She turned on a light that filled the room and her mouth dropped. "Moana!" she shouted.

  Moana clamored to her feet and strode towards us in a matter of seconds. She called for Justine to get the physician, and then she and Layla escorted me back to my bed.

  Peyton placed a cool, damp cloth against my forehead, then clutched at the rosary around her neck and began what I could only imagine was a silent prayer.

  "What's… happening… to… me?" I panted.

  None of my ladies heard me, or they just chose not to respond. When the physician arrived, he took my pulse and listened to my heart and lungs.

  "Pulse is 132," he muttered to himself. "Noticeable sweating, swollen lymph nodes, shortness of breath, dry cough."

  "My head hurts and my body aches," I managed to get out in what little voice I had left.

  The expression on the physician's face grew somber as he turned to Moana. "Go and wake the prince," he said in a low voice I assumed he didn't want me to hear.

  It didn't take long for Theodore to come, which I suspected was because his apartment was right next door. When he joined me, he was wearing a robe and had a worried expression on his face.

  "What is wrong with her?" he demanded of the physician in a fierce voice.

  The physician laced his fingers together in front of him. "She has all the symptoms of influenza, Your Highness."

  "Are you certain?" Theodore quipped.

  "Without a doubt. She shows all the same symptoms of the other cases," the physician said in a trembling voice.

  I glanced between my ladies, who looked to be on the verge of tears. The physician also looked nervous and Theodore seemed like he was hurting, so I knew something wasn't right.

  I coughed, bringing pain to my chest again. "What is going to happen?" I whispered to Theodore.

  His lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at me. "What is the standard treatment?"

  "We don't have one, Your Highness."

  "You must be mistaken. Certainly there is some remedy in the apothecary." I could hear the tone of Theodore's voice changing, like he was bothered by this news.

  The physician didn't respond at first. "Your Highness, I wish I were mistaken. The only remedies I have are to suppress the side effects and ease the pain. I have nothing to actually cure her of this sickness. If she has just gotten sick, she has about a week or two until it kills her. The first week will be about as it is right now. The second and final week, she will be in complete agony."

  Suddenly Theodore snatched the front of the physician's night shirt and clutched it in his fists, pulling the man so close their noses nearly touched. "Don't you ever speak like that in front of her. Do you understand me?"

  He gave Theodore a silent nod.

  "Good. Now, understand this. If she dies, you die." At that last word, Theodore released the physician and told him to retrieve remedies to ease my discomfort.

  Theodore disappeared for a brief moment, only to return with a few books in his hands. After dismissing my ladies, he sat on the bed beside me, his back resting against the thick wooden headboard.

  "What are you doing?" I asked him, closing my heavy eyes.

  "Writing messages. There may be no cure for this here, but I am certain I can find it elsewhere. From years of studying other countries, I learned the most modern have all sorts of cures and vaccines for sicknesses and diseases. If I can find a cure and have it brought here, I can make you better."

  I managed a weak smirk that turned the corners of my mouth upwards into a faint smile. "Start with America. They have skinny jeans—" A cough interrupted my sentence. "And iPods."

  "That's my starting point. New Zealand is closer, but we don't have those kinds of ties with them. America is our biggest ally."

  "But didn't a specialist from New Zealand come out to help with Ellie?" I breathed weakly.

  Theodore nodded his head but explained it had taken almost ten years to convince them to fly out and accommodate her. We didn't have that kind of time.

  "I know some people in Washington that work in the medical industry. Certainly one of them can aid us," he said.

  He went quiet for a few moments and all I could hear was the scratching of his pen against the paper. It was enough to lull me back to sleep.

  When I woke up the next day, Theodore was nowhere to be seen. Lady Layla was sitting in a chair in the corner, knitting. When I coughed she looked up and rose to her feet.

  "Princess." She crossed to my bedside. "Can I get you anything? The physician made elderberry tea to help relieve inflammation."

  Elderberry tea sounded disgusting, but if it would help I wasn't going to complain. With much difficulty, Layla helped me into a sitting position and held the cup so I could take a few sips.

  It was terrifying to think of how weak I had gotten. I couldn't even hold a teacup without my hands trembling from the exertion.

  "There we go," Layla said as she helped me drain the final few sips of tea. "We have to get you all better in time for the wedding. You are going to be a beautiful bride," she said in a hopeful voice.

  I took a deep breath and coughed it out. A squeak slipped through my lips as the pain accompanying the cough took over.

  The tea eased the coughing enough for me to return to sleep. The next day, I woke just long enough to drink more tea and then slept the rest of the day. I woke up to drink my tea several times over the next week, and Theodore was there every time. He normally had a book and pen with him, scratching away at the paper.

  When I woke on day nine, the atmosphere was noticeably different. Moana, whom I had not seen since the night of my diagnosis, was sitting in the chair Layla had once occupied. When she noticed I was awake, she stood and stuck her head outside the door.

  "She's awake," was all she said before closing the door.

  I coughed, but this time it was weak, as if my body no longer had the strength to cough. Even that small action wreaked havoc on my distraught body. I barely had the strength to stay awake.

  "Princess, you must stay awake for the doctor." Moana came over to my side and shook me gently.

  I forced my eyes open and held them like that as long as I could. I was just about to close them when my bedroom door opened and in walked Cote Almira—Bash's mother.

  She made a clicking sound with her mouth and took a s
eat beside me. "Emmaline, you look terrible."

  "I feel terrible," I responded as she began to take my vitals. She had a modern kit with her that included a blood pressure cuff, a pulse oximeter and an otoscope on top of the basic stethoscope and thermometer.

  "You are very weak. Your levels are threateningly low," she said. “You have influenza, which normally wouldn’t have been so bad, but it seems you’ve also managed to catch a bout of pneumonia, which quickly complicated things.”

  I glanced to the door and saw Theodore standing there. He no longer looked as worried as he had the day the physician had given me two weeks to live.

  "Good news is you are strong enough to receive the antiviral."

  "That's not good news…" Theodore began. "That's the best news." The smile on his face warmed my heart.

  I felt the sting of the needle and the ache of the medicine being injected into my muscle. As quickly as it had come, it was gone.

  "So," Theodore addressed Cote. "She will get better, right?"

  Cote placed a hand on his shoulder. "She should begin to see improvement anywhere between twenty-four and forty-eight hours. It will be small improvements, but improvements nonetheless."

  She then turned to me. "You will need lots of rest and fluids to help speed up recovery time."

  I gave another feeble cough. "I didn't know you were a doctor."

  She was in the middle of packing away her medical tools when she glanced up. "That's because I'm not. I'm a nurse practitioner."

  "Then how are you here? I thought Theodore sent for a doctor."

  She let out a little chuckle. "Oh, he did. My boss received the letter. It was on his desk when I went in to grab a patient file, and I knew I had to help when I saw your name. So I casually brought up my son and his photography business and mentioned your name and well, I'm here." She smiled.

  "How is he doing?" I asked her.

  I could see her expression falter a little through her smile. "He isn't doing so well."

  I felt so terrible hearing those words. But I couldn't risk anyone finding out I'd already known about Karmen's death, so I let her continue.

  "Karmen passed away a few weeks ago. She was on a yacht with her best friend and her husband, sailing back to Hawaii when they were capsized in a storm. There are no survivors." She basically repeated the same words Bash had confided in me, and like the first time, it cut into me like a knife.