Author's Note: I'm not a doctor of any type. I'm no expert in injuries nor medicine. Also, I somehow lost a good chuck of the previous chapters on my computer, and I'm worried about being inconsistent. Please forgive me if I made any mistakes.
***
With her own hands, even with her broken fingers stiff in splints, Rahela unwrapped the bandages from His Majesty's hands.
There were still some old spots of blood there. He was much paler. It was ghastly. A few thin patches of the man's skin were gone, although there were attempts at healing. Some minor pieces of skin from his very own backside had been carefully removed and stitched over certain wounds.
Rahela rinsed his hands with water that had previously been filtered, boiled, filtered once more and then cooled. This still appeared to sting, and His Majesty grimaced, yet there were no objections. Once that was finished, she picked up a jar of honey and tested a spoonful of it right on her tongue. It seemed perfectly safe to her. She used a different spoon to take the honey she needed.
In a bowl, this honey was mixed with activated charcoal, which she'd also studied beforehand. Once there was a good paste, Rahela applied it to the her husband's hands. Finally, she dressed him with fresh bandages.
She was silent the entire time. She wouldn't engage in any conversation. She would barely respond to the man's words, no matter how friendly they sounded.
Rahela took the leftover paste and mixed it with some helpful herbs and a bit of sugar, forming a thicker material that could be cut into a few pills. She gave these pills to His Majesty, who swallowed them with a few gulps of water.
The Emperor rested his back and head on the pillows stacked against his bed's headboard. Then he gave a gentle little smile. "You're the only shining one here, and now that your most threatening enemies have been cowed, you can have peace."
Still perched on the mattress, near a tray of materials, Rahela put a hand to her lips and turned her eyes away. She knew that Princess Tuya likely wasn't the source of all the problems she'd had. She also knew there would be problems in the future.
There would always be secret enemies hiding beneath her sight.
A short chuckle, and the Emperor said, "Any remaining rebels might have been daunted by your rejoinder to the latest attempt," here, he sounded truly amused, "Rahela the Flesh Taker."
Rahela chose not to react to that.
Smoothly, she took the tray and rose to walk down the platform. "Rest and recuperate, My Lord. I'll medicate you as often as I must."
Once her face was in the opposite direction, she frowned.
The fool should've used oiled gloves when he pulled her from the bath.
He'd been regularly taking charcoal and honey ever since the traitorous nobles had all gone out for everyone to see them.
Caution had him resting, since he did bear some mild symptoms. Occasional headaches. Trembling. Burning sensations in his hands. No more skin, and thankfully no muscle, had fallen away, but there was still concern.
Rahela went back to her bedchamber. She had a very Yahsin styled headdress tied and pinned to her veil. It had a scalloped shape, outlined with pearls and small emeralds. Then she donned a rather fine cloak and went to seek out the most important ranking servants she knew of, including the Fowl Keeper. Poultry and eggs were very important.
With stern and unforgiving serenity, Rahela personally told them if there were any grievances they should be given right then. She wasn't in a lazy mood, and she wanted to check in with people.
This one's salary was too low. This one's salary was too high. There weren't enough of a certain type of broom. Some animals hadn't been breeding as successfully. Those sorts of complaints were written down by Yana while Rahela coldly stood, or sat down. Sometimes she had a cup of something expensive, often abruptly requested for.
By the afternoon, Rahela was back in her bedchambers with her new set of chambermaids, all of whom had only been lower status cleaning girls or scullery maids not long ago. With Yana and Gabi even closer, Rahela said that she was ready to give an audience to Leran, the tall jester that had been so helpful to the empire.
It didn't take long for that thin, peculiar man to enter the room, a light smile on his face. He stood some feet away from the seated Rahela and bowed. Taking another sip of some fancy drink, Rahela nodded up to him, and she said, "Jester, you've lived so honestly to me, and so deceivingly to my enemies. I have no understanding of your motive, but I'll have a part of it in the least. Tell me your desire, and to my ability I'll grant it."
The man's head remained low, but thanks to his height and Rahela's position, she could see some of the happy wrinkles on his face. His long fingers kept to his sides. "Your Majesty, my request isn't a happy one."
"How could that be?" Rahela asked after a tiny swallow of her beverage.
A pause.
She was fairly surprised that the man hadn't taken a deep breath. He was colder than she was, smile or no smile.
"I want your first born daughter."
The cup slipped from her fingers. A honey-colored liquid splattered everywhere.
Yana gasped.
Gabi gave the tall man a confused look.
The chambermaids had mixed reactions, but none of them were approving.
Uncaring of her now stained gown and cloak, Rahela stood up and pointed her eyes toward the door. Deep in her belly, she was trembling and scared, because she knew that anyone bold enough to demand a child from her must have a way to avoid any punishment. Some hidden might was lurking behind that man's face.
Smile or no smile.
"An undaunted arrangement of words," Rahela said, "they came from a low commoner with no disquiet. I have little choice but to ask what will be done if I refuse that request?"
Leran's head rose slowly.
Rahela's stomach fell, shattered, and might've even chilled at the end of the drop.
Leran's eyes were so black, and she knew, simply knew that his irises and pupils were now the exact same shade. There was no way to distinguish the two.
Not only that, but they seemed bigger than before, with only a bit of visible sclera.
In that same, friendly voice, the jester said, "Your Majesty, you won't need to carry out my request. Please consider this exchange a friendly warning. Assuming you will have a healthy and fertile daughter, she will endure an indescribable pain at my command, and you will have no way to protect her."
Rahela's stomach wasn't cold anymore.
It reconstituted itself and boiled.
One of her eyelids flickered.
Her hands shook.
Before she could give a word, Leran spoke again. "Only civility and a dash of boredom had me come to this castle as a jester. I have no true barriers here. In that way, I'm the same as that Traveling Tall Maiden."
Rahela blinked.
He wasn't there.
***
She heard the words among the whispers.
Rahela the Flesh Taker.
No longer were there known hints to her being weak, nor incompetent.
The only subject of greater curiosity was Jester Leran, and that was only because he was missing. Nobody could even properly speculate the truth, but one favored hunch was the idea that it involved the recent bathing incident. He had led those traitors to their own deaths, after all, which implied some loyalty to the Emperor and or his wife.
The reasons for his loyalty, if it could be called such, were unknown exactly. He'd been treated well but many felt that hadn't been enough. So why had he been loyal? And why was he gone? Was he on a special mission only a jester could have? Perhaps he'd been sent to entertain a secret enemy?
Whatever the reason was, it wasn't known.
Rahela discussed the matter with her husband, who was still in bed with heavily wrapped hands. Those wrapped hands were petting a napping puppy in his lap. Rahela could tell by the breed that the dog would normally be kept for war, but His Majesty had specifically asked for a little baby dog to keep as a companion. Not an old dog that could no longer fight, no, he wanted a puppy to have for only himself.
When he'd been told that Leran had asked for their first born daughter, his hands left the puppy and fiercely clawed the blanket. Rahela reached out to grip his wrists, and she said, "Please don't aggravate your wounds. You must heal."
The puppy stirred in its sleep. The fur was a dark gray, and so soft that it made Rahela think of some of her finest fur-lined clothing. Such a fortunate animal, to be able to keep its precious coat and live among the coat-stealers.
Once Rahela as finished telling the little story, His Majesty rested his palms back on the puppy and bitterly stared down at it. "I envy this pup's mother, for she did not mind when we took her child away."
"I want to believe that Leran's unable to do such a thing. I want to believe his threat was hollow." Rahela decided to reach over and stroke one of the puppy's slack ears. His nose twitched and one of his paws kicked a bit.
His frown deepening, the Emperor said, "You want to believe, but can you?"
"I don't know," Rahela admitted as her hand glided away from the puppy's ear.
"Acceptable." He shrugged. "How can you know? All we can do is live as if he never arrived. Don't give your thoughts room for him."
Rahela sighed and looked at the splints on two of her fingers. "That won't be difficult. I have many responsibilities."
That had a corner of his lips jerking up. "See to them well, Flesh Taker."
***
His Majesty was now well enough to sit on his throne at the Imperial Court Meeting. Thanks to his bandages, he didn't wear his heavy rings, but he was still glittering with heavy things. Layers of necklaces, his bold crown, metallic embroidery and buttons. A glistening silk tunic of black. His indigo cloak with ermine fur.
The exception was his great scepter. Rahela stood by the throne and held the item whichever way was appropriate for the moment. She had to use the hand with no broken fingers, but she was still the better option.
The nobles attending this meeting seemed to be in overall easier moods. Or rather, they pretended to be agreeable. Rahela had wanted to assume the spring weather made traveling less of a burden. She knew better than to believe that. They were afraid they'd end up with their flesh eaten away.
