Tipping the Scales

18

Agnes pulled the cover over the broken body of the young boy.

As the arena's head doctor for ten years, she had seen her fair share of injuries and gore. It wasn't uncommon for young lads of common birth to come in with burns and bruises from their fights with nobles or each other. But never had she been so busy as this year. With the increase in contestants and the pitting of mere boys against merciless beasts, she had had her work cut out for her. In her decade of service however, she had never laid a boy to rest.

As a doctor, it was her duty to release patients in better shape than when they arrived in her care; it was a rule she stood by. Even with the increased demand today, she had worked tirelessly to ensure everyone received treatment and no one was lost. The death of this young lad was completely out of her control, yet she still felt a great deal of anger and guilt.

"Ma'am ." Agnes jumped, broken from her trance. A soldier in the red garnished armour of the royal guard stood in the doorway. "Your presence has been requested by the crown."

Agnes raised her eyebrows. "What does her royal highness want with me."

"That's not for me to say, please follow me." Without waiting for a response, the soldier turned and marched away.

"I guess I have no choice in the matter," she sighed, removing her operating gloves and storming after the solider. She was led through the corridors of the arena and up the many flights of stairs of the Captain's tower, an area of the arena she had rarely visited.

Upon entering the box she was greeted by a light buzz of conversation coming from the tall wooden seats occupied by the captain's in front of her. As there was an interval between the rounds, they appeared to be taking the time to mill around and socialise with various other high ranking members of the elite squads. She noticed the Winthrope siblings in particular, who had a powerful aura of respect even in such company, almost demanding the respect of all those around them.

The royal soldier led Agnes up a few steps to the more sheltered part of the tower's summit, overlooking the captain's from behind. "Please proceed," the soldier nodded her through.

The Royal Box was covered in red carpets and silk tapestries, with its most prominent feature being the throne in the centre. As there was a royal spectator every year, Agnes had the not so pleasurable experience of meeting several members of the family. So she was surprised to see a young woman lounging casually on the throne that she didn't recognise. She had remarkably dark black hair, which was long and silky, a stark contrast to the blonde hair of the other royal Agnes had met.

"Your highness," Agnes curtsied politely, "how can I be of service."

"Ah doctor, you're here," the royal regarded her, "come closer." She spoke with the authority of one much older than her, making Agnes feel uneasy. "I am intrigued." She reached over and plucked a grape from a bowl beside her, dropping it into her mouth before continuing. "Can you explain to me the condition of one Lukas Musgrave, I understand he visited your ward after his fight." She chewed as she spoke, not breaking her stare.

Agnes looked down, unable to maintain eye contact. "Lukas Musgrave," she wracked her brain of the many boys she had treated over the course of the morning. "I believe he was the first of my patients?" She raised her voice to pose it as a question. The royal didn't respond, instead opting to drop another grape into her mouth. "Yes, Lukas," Agnes stammered, trying to fill the awkward silence. "He came in with several injuries; a claw wound on his bicep, small cuts all over his face and shoulder, some rather peculiar burn wounds."