Claiming The Remnant

Chapter 18

[ The King ]

“Your Royal Highness, Poflorin is here to see you.” My servant, Hector, announced after knocking. I was quite surprised.

“Let him in.” I waved.

“Your Majesty.” Poflorin bowed deeply, giving me an opportunity to look at his beautifully braided hair. The love a certain someone’s fingers had woven into the design was obvious.

“To what do I owe this secondary visit, Healer Poflorin.” I smiled at the young lad in front of me. He stood with his back straight, a darkness resided in his eyes as he looked at me. How curious.

“I have come to report on Lady Esther’s condition, My King.” Poflorin spoke with confidence. Well, this was interesting. I set my pen down, giving the lad all my attention.

“Please, Healer Poflorin, take a seat.” I gestured to the chair across the desk from me.

“Thank you, King Leoré.” Poflorin took the seat I offered. He had only been to my study once before, on this very morning in fact, but his eyes didn’t stray from mine. I knew Poflorin to be a curious child and seeing him so focused was a pleasant surprise.

“I am glad to see that you are taking your charge so seriously but it isn’t necessary for you to report to me every day. Unless of course there is anything of serious concern.” All the while I watched Poflorin’s face. Calm, confident, unwavering. Staring down his King. “Is there something of serious concern, Poflorin?”

“Healer Poflorin.” The lad looked straight ahead. No fear.

“Come again?” I asked, underscoring my words with a menacing anger. How far would the lad push it? He sat straighter, squared his shoulders. I was reminded of his mother, she was strong and compassionate. If this meeting went well I would have to give her my regards.

“It’s Healer Poflorin, My King. I have a charge, I am a Healer.” He stood his ground. Impressive or perhaps stupid, it depended on what he was here to achieve.

“You have not completed your training, or your exams. The title of Healer is not yet yours. You only have a charge because your Father requested.” I countered, enjoying the little pissing contest we were having. Not often did someone come to my study and challenge me, let alone a child.

“It is generous of you to attribute this opportunity to Head Healer Asperonin but we both know my Father would not have suggested me for such a position. My Father is reluctant to let me beyond the library walls, clearly you organised that I should take this position, Your Majesty and therefore I ask that you respect the position you have afforded me and address me correctly, My King.” Poflorin swallowed. A small, slightly shaky, breath the only indicator of his fear. I was very impressed, the lad was smart.

“My apologies, Healer Poflorin.” I hid the amusement I felt at the exchange, keeping a stoic and slightly aggressive demeanour. “Besides wanting to demonstrate that you were under no illusions of the origins of your charge, was there something else you wish to discuss in this unscheduled meeting of yours?” The lad's determination faltered a little, my words punching holes in his little self righteous display.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness. It has come to my attention that Lady Esther is not in fact Lady Esther at all, but I’m sure you already knew that. What I don’t understand is why it wasn’t considered necessary to inform me that the woman from the dungeon thinks she is a ‘Lady’ and has lost her memory?”

“Why would I tell you?” I challenged.

“Your Majesty,” Poflorin blinked in a way that suggested he was aggravated by my response, “we both know that I took an unauthorised healing shift in the dungeons. We both know that I treated the woman while she was incarcerated. We both know that it would not have escaped your attention that any Healer worth his salt would have recognised, instantly, that their energy signature was the same therefore identifying them as the same person. With all due respect Your Majesty, what I don’t understand here is if you are willing to instate an unqualified Healer with a charge as important as Lady Esther, why wouldn’t you tell me?” Poflorin pressed. I hadn't expected the lad to have such tenacity.

“I owe you nothing, lad.” I didn’t like the taste of the words but the young Healer needed testing and I had no fire bar my own with which to test him. To his testament Poflorin didn’t flinch, a little paler perhaps. Asperonin had never been as bold with his words as his son. The value of his boldness was yet to be seen, but he was young and I was willing to give him the opportunity to prove himself.

“I miss represent my sentiment, Your Majesty, it is not indebtment that I claim but necessity.” Truly the lad was bright and his boldness was not lost on me but insofar it lacked merit. I could see what he wanted to get at but he was failing to get to the point. Had he come only to childishly titter and pout?

A push was in order.

“Are you challenging my authority, questioning my decisions as KING, lad??” I stood, towering over the desk and Poflorin. The lad didn’t back down.

“No and yes, My King. As much as the Yelka tree is challenged by the winter, it blooms best when the season is harsh. May I speak freely?” He managed not to stumble in his words but the slight tremor in his hands did not go unnoticed.

“If that was not you already speaking freely young Healer, I am nothing but astounded.” I chuckled dryly and sat. His answer was very good. Unchallenged by winter the Yelka would produce only a handful of scraggly blossoms, it showed me the thought behind his actions and not entitlement or petulance.

“My apologies, My King.” He blushed a little. Poor lad.

“Come Healer Poflorin, say what you have come to say.” I relaxed back into my chair, waving him to continue. This old Yelka tree is waiting, I thought to myself.

"You would hear me in spite of the way I have behaved, Your Majesty?" Poflorin asked, suddenly unsure of himself and a little more humble than when he first arrived.

"Especially because of the way you have behaved. You are not yet 16 and this is a private space. The appropriateness is questionable but you held yourself well." I nodded in approval. "This is your first time in council with me is it not? Everyone must start somewhere."

"Are you going to tell my Father?" Poflorin finally looked away. If I were to speak to his Father I would omit any inflammatory details; there was already too much distance between them.

"That depends, are you here as Asperonin's son or Healer Poflorin?" I smiled. "Tell me what you need to say." I coxed.

"Why me? Lyle and Tarrin would be the most logical choice. I… I couldn't even keep from throwing up after healing her in the dungeon." His face scrunched up as he spoke, in anger or humiliation or perhaps a mix of both.

"What wound?" I asked softly.

"Her rib had pierced the lung, she was drowning in her own blood. I heard it break from the hall." There was a dispare in his eyes and for a moment I wondered if his Father was right in thinking that Poflorin wasn’t ready.

"There is no shame in that. You care, that's important in a Healer." For the length of a breath I pondered how much to tell him. He was not his Father, a man experienced and maybe even a little jaded by the court. He was a lad, inexperienced and sheltered. It would not benefit either of us if I kept my motives hidden but it would serve some purpose to share. "There are a number of reasons I chose you for this position and I tell you this not because you came barging into my study demanding it but because it is an opportunity for you to learn that my decisions are not made lightly or flippantly. Of these reasons, none are more important than the other, it is the culmination of the facts that leads to the final decision. I need the woman in question alive and well and trusting both the people around her and myself. Do you know why?"

"Because she has the Remnant?" He answered.

"Correct, she has it or knows where it is. Now why not just keep her imprisoned…"

"Because there would be nothing to gain, she doesn't remember her trueself and so it would be akin to torturing an innocent woman and should she later remember herself she will be no more inclined to assist than before." The question had been rhetoric but Poflorin eager to prove himself had jumped in and answered anyway. Correctly as well. I let him have it, there would be plenty of time to develop his etiquette.

"Correct, you have followed well." A little praise would go far, his Father did not give him enough. Not that Asperonin was a bad Father, he just failed to see that his son's needs differed from his own ideals. "So now I have a new problem. I must accommodate my former prisoner in a way that is secure but unthreatening and genuine towards both her current state and potentially any reversion to her previous state. This can only be achieved by…" This time I purposely gave Poflorin the opportunity to answer. I was enjoying this. Reminded me of the time I spent teaching my son and made me look forward to the time I would soon be spending with him, further preparing him for the throne.

"Limiting the number of staff around her to a few essentials that are aware of the truth and ensuring that those that do know will keep up the pretence."

"Yes! Exactly that. Your Father was my original choice of Healer but… he broke Lady Esther's trust." Poflorin gasped. "Which leads me to needing a replacement Healer. It was quite a quandary. Tarrin and Lyle as you suggested are both competent and qualified Healers, second and third behind your Father but while their skill and trustworthiness is not in question…” I hesitated, taking a moment to choose my words. “They are loyal but their hearts will be hard toward Lady Esther.”

I regarded the young Healer before me for a moment; letting him absorb and process everything I had said. Likely he would not be as enthusiastic over what was next in my reasoning.

“Which brings us to why I insisted on you being her Healer.” Poflorin didn’t quite seem to be listening. His eyes darted back and forth looking at nothing, concentration crinkled his brow before he rubbed the side of his face; clearly having come to some conclusion. “What has occured to you, dear lad?”I asked curious of Asperonin’s son.

“That you chose me because whilst I am skilled, I am unproven and will therefore be eager to prove my worth. You chose me because I am young and have not become hardened to the misgivings of this world.” Poflorin looked me in the eye, his jaw set and a little anger burning in his features. “You chose me because the dissonance with my Father is double edged. I will want to succeed where he failed, excell where he expects me to stumble, clamour for his attention and in that process you hope to see our bonds strengthen. Desire us to form an understanding and respect for one another. That is why you told my Father to present your wishes as his own. An attempted gift of peace between us.” Poflorin sighed. A large breathy sigh full of frustration. Obviously his mind had a clear cut understanding of, what was essentially, my meddling and saw the value but his heart was hurt and that was harder for him to understand.

“Your Father wants only what is best for you, he wants to hold you close and keep the world from hardening you but he has forgotten about the Yelka tree, humm. It is time to remind him, young Healer Poflorin?” I spoke slowly, letting the words wash over that hurt.

“Thank you, My King.” Poflorin stood, his fists balled at his sides, and with a swift bow turned to leave. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Healer Poflorin,” I chuckled stroking my beard, “sit back down, firstly the King decides when you are to be dismissed and secondly you have yet to speak to me about Lady Esther.” A broad smile filled my face as the lad reclaimed his seat in haste.

“Sorry, Your Majesty.” His expression one of guilt.

“Ah, you are learning young one but learn fast, yes?” I said with a wink. “Now, your charge…” I prompted.

“Lady Esther is not suffering from any ill that requires magic. The course that I have presently prescribed is rest and nourishment. The necklace, I can feel my Father's magic embedded in it, will be replenished as required. For her confusion and memory loss I need to gather further information. Would I be correct to assume I should ask my Father…?” I nodded in answer. “Would I also be correct in thinking that we are not looking to restore her memories?” I nodded again. “In that case, to build her confidence and to avoid suspicion, we need a solid explanation for both her imprisonment and her memory loss whilst also appearing to try and help her regain lost memories. A mix of truth and pretence should serve."

"What truth, Healer?"

"That an allergic reaction caused her memory loss." He looked a little sheepish. This wasn't information he would readily know, either it was gossip or peeking in his Father's journal that had informed him. I guessed the latter from his face.

"And what pretence?" I said with a thoughtful look. It was interesting that Poflorin had chosen to call it a 'pretence' rather than a lie.

"I'm not entirely sure Your Majesty but whatever it is needs to be consistent. She is already frightened and confused, any discrepancies between stories could enhance that. Oh, and if she has already been told something different in regard to her memory loss then we will have to stick with that version." Poflorin was taking this very seriously, like I knew he would. It would be a big lesson for him, a hard step up, learning what it takes to work directly under the orders of one's King. One day he would be Head Healer but with my son as King.

“So far Lady Esther has been given very little information. She has been informed that her incarceration was a case of mistaken identity, no explanation has been given as of yet in regard to her memory loss. I have reassured Lady Esther that we have sent a letter out to her ‘brother’ and told her that as soon as she is well enough, cleared by her Healer,” I looked at Poflorin, “I shall have afternoon tea with her and discuss her predicament.”

Poflorin looked both pleased and lost at what I had said. Most likely he was at a loss as to what he should say next. Perhaps I should have had this talk with Asperonin but spending this time with his son, teaching and melding this young mind and hopefully giving him an opportunity to bond with his Father was much more important than trying to teach an old dog new tricks. I may have been hard and perhaps a little rash with Asperonin but it was better this way. Poflorin now had a lot of weight on his young shoulders, it was and wasn’t unfair. I would be his winter and he would bloom like the most hardy Yelka.

“I think that is all I have to report for now, Your Majesty.” Poflorin looked at me nervously.

“Then you are dismissed.” My smile was kindly as he rose and bowed.

“Thank you for your time, Your Royal Highness.” He said with the utmost politeness.

“Poflorin? Next time speak to your Father regarding how to proceed. The decisions will still be yours but seeking his guidance will demonstrate maturity and respect. I won't tolerate you barging in here again unless it is of the utmost urgency." I probably would. It was hard not to have a soft spot for the youthful exuberance of Zach and Poflorin.

"Yes, My King." Poflorin smiled nervously and left.