Page 17 of The Broken Elf King
“Yes, lord,” I obeyed. I’d wanted to be a doctor after my schooling; I wasn’t squeamish with blood, or the sick, but he didn’t know that. I veered to the right and then followed the sign that readOperating Theatre Viewing Room.
I pushed open the double doors and was immediately confronted with a weeping woman. She was in her early thirties, and a man about the same age clung to her, holding her tightly as he stared stony-faced at a wall of glass.
I stiffened, guilt worming through me at intruding on their moment just to watch the king operate. They must be the girl’s parents.
The woman looked up at me, her chin shaking. “Who are you?”
I bowed slightly. “King Lightstone’s new personal assistant. I thought the room was empty. I’ll leave you—”
Before I could finish, she left her husband’s side and grasped my hand, pulling me into the room.
“Maker bless the king! He’s here?” She dragged me over to the far wall, which was made purely of glass. Now that I was closer to her, I was overwhelmed with a strong smell of sweet blackberry syrup. Blackberry jam was my favorite candy as a child and it instantly made me nostalgic.
As we stepped closer to the glass I noticed that I was given a perfect view of the operating room. My gaze flicked around the space, taking it all in.
Unlike the human operating rooms we had at Nightfall, there were no gadgets or blades or machines trying to keep someone alive. There was just a nurse, an elvin wand, anda lotof blood.
The little girl Corleena was a small elf, and her pale face was rolled to the side, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping, but blood dribbled out of the corners of her lips and onto the floor. I’d never seen an elvish child; her little ears were pointy and adorable and her face was like a porcelain doll. Her white hair was long like her mother’s, and in two braids that hung down the sides of the table. Her body suddenly jerked, her mouth opened and she vomited more blood.
Her mother fell to her knees beside me, letting go of my hand, and that’s when King Raife entered the room. He wore a white physicians coat and barked an order at the nurse with the healing wand.
At the sight of the king, the mother pressed her hands and face to the window and stared down at her dying little girl. I was rooted to the spot, unsure how the king could do anything in this dire of a situation. That blood needed cauterization or stitches or something, and yet I saw no tools to do so. Although I was half elvish, I knew nothing of elvin healing other than it was magical. I’d read a few books on it but never seen it in person. My father was an artisan trader selling healing-infused pendants and other things across the realm. His journal didn’t cover healings of this nature. If I had known how to heal, I’d have healed my aunt years ago.
I waited for the king to blast her with light or something, but he simply knelt beside her and placed his hands lightly on her tummy. Taking a deep breath in, purple light emanated softly from his palm and he coughed, a small spray of blood dotting his chin.
I gasped, looking around in alarm, but the mother stood, giving me a hopeful gaze. The king winced, doubling over and releasing the girl as he grabbed his midsection.
I froze, watching him wide-eyed as I processed what I was seeing. No one else seemed alarmed by the king’s grave appearance, including the nurse, so I watched on. Suddenly the little girl’s eyes blinked open and she looked around the room.
“Mommy?” she said, all paleness gone from her. A healthy pinkness shone on her cheeks as she looked around frantically for her mother. The mother bolted from the viewing room with the father, leaving me to my thoughts.
Did the king… did he take on her illness and then heal it within himself? If so, that wasverydangerous.
The little girl reached for Raife, grasping his fingers as he stood. He froze, staring down at her with a compassion that melted my heart. He truly loved his patients. Watching him with her caused something to blossom inside my chest. It was a weird feeling, nothing I’d ever felt before. It confused me so I pushed it aside.
King Raife spoke to the parents briefly and then left the room. I scurried out of the viewing hall to meet him back at the entrance to the operating theatre.
The second he stepped out, I rushed up to him. “Are you okay?” My gaze fell to the splatter of blood on his chin. He seemed to notice and reached up and wiped it, his hand shaking slightly.
“It keeps happening. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t feel a chronic bleeding issue. It is acute,” he mumbled, ignoring me.
Corleena, he was still stuck on her case even as I was asking abouthim.
“You healed her. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” I told him.
He looked up at me with worry in his gaze. “It’s thefourthtime I’ve healed her of internal bleeding. If I don’t find the cause I might not get here fast enough next time. They live on a large blackberry farm an hour’s horse ride away.”
A heaviness fell over our conversation. It explained why the mother smelled of blackberry syrup. She probably grew and made it from scratch. I lowered my voice, leaning into the king. “You don’t think the parents would… have done this to her on purpose?” I felt awful for even suggesting it, but four times was a lot.
He sighed, and at this closeness I felt the unease and worry roll through him and into me, so I stepped back a foot.
“I considered it of course, but they are always so worried for her. The mother seems to fall apart in tears and then the father is in genuine shock. He carried her limp on horseback the entire way. I just don’t see that.”
I nodded; it was unfair of me to suggest it. The mother seemed more than genuine, and in shock was exactly how I would describe the father.
Oh how I hated something unsolved. My mind would chew on this for hours.
“Could I get a sample of her blood? Before she goes?” I asked.
