Chapter 248: Summoned To The Queen’s Tea Room
Chapter 247: Summoned To The Queen’s Tea Room
Like Duke Valenridge had suspected, the Queen summoned Kathryn.
The physician had been in her small workroom within the infirmary, gathering herbs and tending to the concoction she had been boiling over a low flame. The mixture had been intended for the Princess—a stronger remedy than what she had administered earlier, designed to fight the infection in her feet and ease the ache in her back.
She had just added a pinch of dried ravenleaf when the knock came.
A maid stood at the door, her expression carefully neutral.
"Her Majesty requests your presence," the maid said. "Immediately."
Kathryn’s hands stilled over the pot.
She had known this would come. The Duke had warned her. The Queen would summon her, and she would have to go. She had prepared herself for it, practiced what she would say, rehearsed the answers she would give too.
But knowing and doing were two different things.
She wiped her hands on her apron, removed it, and followed the maid through the winding corridors of the palace. The walk was long and silent, the only sounds the soft rustle of their skirts and the distant murmur of servants going about their duties.
The maid led her to a tea room. It was smaller than the grand halls, more intimate, with pale blue walls and silver trim. Tall windows overlooked the gardens, though the curtains had been drawn against the afternoon sun, casting the room in a soft, golden gloom.
The Queen sat in a high-backed chair near the window, a porcelain teacup balanced delicately in her fingers. Steam rose from the liquid, curling upward in lazy spirals. She did not look up when Kathryn entered. She did not acknowledge the woman. She just remained seated as though the world revolved around her. Which, perhaps, was true.
Kathryn bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty," she said.
The Queen once more ignored her.
Kathryn remained bowed, her back beginning to ache, her hands clasped before her. The seconds stretched into minutes, and still the Queen did not speak. She simply sat there, drinking her tea, as though Kathryn were no more than a piece of furniture.
At last, the Queen set her cup down.
"You may rise," she said.
Kathryn straightened.
Her gaze swept the room.
Duke Aurelgrave sat in a chair near the hearth, though there was no fire in it, his expression composed. He held a cup of tea as well, though he did not seem to be drinking it. His blue eyes were fixed on some point in the middle distance, and though he masked it well, there was a stiffness to his shoulders that suggested discomfort.
That much was clear.
Princess Jacinta sat across from him, her arms folded across her chest, her expression one of barely concealed annoyance. She huffed softly, shifting in her seat, her golden hair catching the light.
The Queen fixed her gaze on Kathryn, studying her with an intensity that made the physician’s skin prickle.
It seemed like a game of cat and mouse to Kathryn. And she was the mouse while the Queen was the cat playing with her prey.
"Your name," the Queen said.
Kathryn blinked.
"Your Majesty?"
"Your name," the Queen repeated. "I wish to hear it."
Kathryn knew the Queen knew her name. She had introduced herself earlier, in the Princess’s chambers, with the Duke and the Baron present. But she did not say this. She simply bowed her head.
"Kathryn, Your Majesty."
The Queen nodded slowly.
"Kathryn," she said. "It is quite a beautiful name. It sounds like a name given to smart people."
She tilted her head.
"Are you smart, Kathryn?"
Kathryn hesitated.
The question was a trap. She could feel it, could see the shape of it lurking beneath the pleasant surface of the Queen’s words. If she said yes, she would appear arrogant. If she said no, she would appear useless.
"I was considered smart from a young age, Your Majesty," she said carefully. "But it depends on the context in which Your Majesty asks the question before I can truly answer."
The Queen’s lips curved.
"That is true," she said.
She relaxed back into her chair, her fingers resting lightly on the armrest.
"Tell me," she said, "what did you observe about the Princess’s condition?"
Kathryn was quiet.
The Queen laughed. It was a soft sound, almost pleasant.
"I am the one asking the questions," she said. "You need not keep silent."
Kathryn bowed.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," she said. "The Princess’s condition was more severe than I initially believed. Everything I observed, I stated earlier in the Princess’s chambers. The infection in her feet. The dehydration. The fever."
The Queen nodded.
"And the marks on her back?" she asked. "What did you observe about those?"
Kathryn’s throat tightened. She was quiet for a while, but she could not remain so lest the Queen grow annoyed, and so she spoke up.
"The marks on the Princess’s back," she said carefully, "were likely sustained by the Princess’s own carelessness."
The room went still.
For a moment, no one moved. The curtains swayed slightly in a draft from the window. The Queen’s expression did not change.
She stared at Kathryn for a while longer, and then she laughed.
It was a genuine laugh, warm and full, the kind of laugh that belonged in a drawing room during a pleasant conversation, not in a room where a woman’s health was being discussed.
She turned to Jacinta.
"You see?" she said. "She is quite smart. You need not worry about that any longer."
Jacinta nodded in agreement.
The Queen turned back to Kathryn.
"The second Princess is quite careless," she said. "There is also the issue of her abusing her power and refusing to know her place. She has bullied numerous servants over the years. That is why her maids did not tend to her injuries properly. They were afraid of her."
Kathryn doubted this.
In the quiet corners of the palace, where the Queen’s influence did not reach, there were rumours. Whispers passed between servants, hushed conversations in the laundry rooms and the kitchens. They spoke of the legitimate Princess—the one seated in this very room—and her cruelty. They spoke of the illegitimate Princess—the one lying unconscious in her bed—and her suffering.
But Kathryn said nothing.
She kept her face neutral, her hands clasped, her gaze lowered.
"What is the best solution for the Princess’s condition?" the Queen asked.
Kathryn drew a breath.
"The Princess requires a course of strong medications, Your Majesty," she said. "An herbal mixture to fight the infection, administered twice daily. A salve for the wounds on her back, applied each morning and evening. A poultice for her feet to draw out any remaining fragments and reduce the swelling."
She paused.
"She also requires proper nutrition. Broths first, then soft foods, then a gradual return to a full diet. She is malnourished. Her body cannot heal if it does not have the strength to do so."
Kathryn did not add that the Princess also needed to drink herbs continuously. She also wondered why the Princess’s wounds were slow to heal, but she said nothing.
"And how long will this take?" the Queen asked.
"Hopefully, within three days, she should recover before the ball," Kathryn said.
Jacinta chuckled darkly.
"I doubt that. She’s wolfless, so even with everything you give her, there’s the probability she wouldn’t recover."
The Queen chuckled.
"That is true," she said, then she turned to Kathryn. "Half those medications."
Kathryn stared at her in shock.
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?"
"The medications," the Queen repeated. "Half them. Reduce the dosage. The Princess does not require such aggressive treatment."
Kathryn’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, another voice cut through the room.
"I do not think that suggestion will help Her Highness," Duke Aurelgrave said.
The temperature in the room dropped.
The Queen turned to him slowly, her eyes cold, her smile gone.
"Explain yourself," she said.
"Halving the medications will prolong the Princess’s recovery," he said. "It will take longer for her to heal. And that, I believe, would not reflect well upon the royal family."
The Queen’s eyes narrowed.
"How so?"
"People will ask questions," the Duke said. "They will wonder why, if the royal family has the best physicians at its disposal, the Princess remains unwell. They will wonder why she has not healed. They will wonder what is being done to her."
He paused.
"That is not a good look for the royal family, Your Majesty," he said.
The room was very quiet.
Jacinta unfolded her arms and leaned forward.
"Why should that be a problem?" she asked. "It is not as though the Princess holds any important position. She is illegitimate. She is barely a princess at all."
Duke Aurelgrave turned to her.
"She is a Moon candidate," he said. "She was exposed to the entire kingdom. The scrying veil broadcast her face to every territory. The people know who she is. They are watching."
He looked back at the Queen.
"If the Princess does not recover quickly, they will wonder why. And that will expose the royal family in ways that I do not think Your Majesty would appreciate."
The Queen’s eye twitched.
But she did not argue.
