The Trickster's Test {Prinxiety}

Chapter 19

Third Person

As promised, Janus didn't keep up the questioning, leaving them with an offer to come back to Correo with him as they followed one of his crew members below decks to the infirmary. Roman wisely kept his mouth shut, saving his questions for when they were alone suspecting that Virgil didn't want to talk about anything remotely personal while they were still around strangers. Actually, he supposed that Virgil could simply always be this tense, it wasn't that much of a stretch.

"Emi will have you fixed up in no time, then I believe the captain is going to leave you two alone for the rest of the day if you want," The man informs them, casually ducking under a loose board that didn't quite fit with the otherwise pristine ship. Virgil couldn't decide if they had no mechanic, or just a really busy one.

"Alright, thank you," Roman responds in what his companion decides is too chipper a tone for someone with a recently broken bone.

The stranger looked at them over his shoulder and lowered his sunglasses, "Don't be thanking me, babe, I'm allergic to gratitude. Save that mess for the doc," He continues on without any trouble, not acknowledging the confused tilt of Roman's head or the question in Virgil's eyes.

After all, it wasn't every day that you see a man with nearly no irises or pupils walking around without any problems.

While Virgil had never needed to ask someone if they're blind, he suspected that it would be rude to do so. Then again, it didn't feel much better to guess should it actually come up at all. He didn't seem to be blind based on how easily he navigated without needing any sort of reference or reminder of where exactly he was. Although, he didn't think it was possible for someone's eyes to be almost completely white like that and still be able to see. He could figure it out later, deciding to treat the man as though he can see to be safe for the time being.

"Remy, I already warned you that you'd be cut off from coffee if you kept returning those sleeping pills and," The healer, Emile if Virgil remembered correctly, turned around, realizing he had company other than their escort, "Oh, I didn't realize we'd be having guests. That doesn't usually happen when we run into pirates," As one might expect, unless he considered patients guests too. He fluidly washed his hands off, "I'm Emile, the ship's medic. Since we're meeting in my office I can only assume it's not under the best circumstances but I'd like to hope that won't ruin your impression of me."

Emile strongly resembled Patton, not because they both happened to have glasses, but in the way they acted. The doctor's mannerisms were a bit more unique, and he hadn't made any puns yet, but Virgil couldn't help but take notice of the similarities. Finding familiarity in the most strange situations would at least bring him some comfort.

"It's nice to meet you Emile, and assuming you're actually qualified to help, I'm sure we'll get along fine," Roman responds easily, waving with his good arm and leaving the other hanging by his side. At least he wasn't stupid enough to go for a handshake right after the healer had just washed his hands.

"I'd certainly like to think that training under one of the best healers in Correo for six years, and working on this ship for seven has left me more than qualified to treat your arm," So he had noticed the poorly done cast, then. Virgil was starting to get a little worried about the accuracy of his glasses's prescription. He kindly gestured for Roman to sit down, "What seems to be the problem?"

"Clemons didn't take too kindly to me warning him of my otherworldly swordsmanship skills," Roman laments, "Basically snapped my radius and ulna in half in one fell swoop."

"That doesn't sound too good," Emile remarks, easily cutting away the scarf instead of attempting to untie it, deciding that his comfort was more important than the fabric.

He pokes and prods around for a bit, determining that, yes, Roman's arm is broken and yes, touching it makes it hurt worse. Virgil wanted to snap at Emile, say something along the lines of, 'is this the level of skill your training gave you, because if so...' but figured that wouldn't be helpful. Emile let the air settle as he worked, Remy slipping out when he determined that sticking around wouldn't provide any entertainment. Roman decided to pass the time by recounting his adventures in Keljiarc, the term being used quite loosely in Virgil's opinion.

"-It was there I faced down a mighty barkeep, who was so confident that I wasn't of legal age that she wouldn't listen to reason," He paused as Emile tightened the splint again, the healer mumbling a hurried sorry. It was unclear if he was apologizing for interrupting, or for the flash of pain that crossed Roman's face, "She ended up throwing the towel she uses to dry cups at me!"

"Well, in addition to asking for directions, did you happen to order a drink? Or question her fashion choices?" Virgil was just saying that Roman suggesting she go with a lighter color palette or ditch the boots would probably make her less inclined to help him.

"I only asked for some water to wash off the mud that I happened to be covered in, is that so unreasonable?" He asks, offended that the prince appeared to be turning on him.

"If that mud happened to dirty her stool, counter, and floor, then possibly," Emile admits, having the decency to look sympathetic towards his plight. Humming lowly, Emile tied the newer, more effective splint in place before Roman could protest. He clasped his hands together, "That should hold well enough, make sure to let me know if it gets displaced at all. Otherwise there isn't much I can do to help with any pain once the espen wears off besides applying some more, which would most likely end up doing more harm than good. And I'm sure Remy has already left, so I can show you to the room we normally keep open for guests or emergencies, unless you'd rather sleep here?"

"I think the room would be more accommodating," Roman determined, sounding almost apologetic, not that Emile would be particularly hurt by their choice.

"I'm inclined to agree," Emile conceded easily, getting up and showing them out. He let the duo examine their surroundings as they walked, unbothered by the distrust that still hung around Virgil.

They went further down into the depths of the ship, not quite the bottom level, but far enough down that they would be some of the first to notice if there was a leak. The prince hadn't decided if that was a good thing or not yet. Emile didn't hesitate to open the door, which locked from the inside, Virgil noticed, and stepped aside.

"Thank you," Virgil tells him, stepping past him and into the room, Roman following with a bit more pep in his step.

"There's no need to thank me, this is what I do for a living," Emile didn't wait around, leaving with a soft smile on his face.

"So..." Roman prompts.

Virgil stares at him, "What?"

"You obviously have some explaining to do about the whole 'oh I might know who kidnapped me' thing, and you also looked like you were about to say something," He explains simply.

"I was just going to say that Janus agreed to my theory pretty quickly," Roman didn't hesitate to roll his eyes, taking a seat on a mattress that was held by a frame that appeared to be nailed to the floor. It beat out the hammock, that much was certain, "And you weren't there when I talked to Princess Melanie, even you would have been suspicious of her."

"And you didn't think to tell me about this conversation or her potentially diabolical actions?" Roman asked.

"Well, I think we were both a little busy being held captive, but I can work harder to keep you in the loop in the future, if you'd like," He offered. 

A/N: Been whining about it for a bit now, so I'm gonna slow this book to uploads every other week so I have some hope of keeping up. Take the L I guess because I already know what's gonna happen throughout the entire book and y'all have to wait. Also, hey look Remile