Rejected

Chapter 14

"Not back here again," Delilah groaned as she regained her senses. The portly woman wrapping a bandage around her arm covered up most of her vision but she knew where she was instantly; the infirmary. When she had thought of attending another Ball she had imagined her life to be entangled by dances and court gossip not pain, misery and arrows.

"Well, you should not have made it a habit to end up here," Prince Damian's voice reached her from her right. He was leaning against the wall in that corner. His jacket and cravat were missing and Delilah wondered how many times this month she would have to see the man in this state. She had thought she had already gotten an eyeful from the last time but it seems the man would find one reason or another to disrobe in front of her.

"It is not like I do it deliberately. I have never been this accident prone," Delilah said stuffily. Her vision still lurched with every time she moved her head.

"I seem to have this affect around ladies. They just like to swoon whenever I'm around," Damian smirked as he examined his fingernails and the Lady who was finishing the bandaging giggled.

Delilah was going to respond appropriately when a loud crash reached their ears. The Prince's expression told her exactly what she feared the noise to be. He straightened and rushed out of the room but not before giving Delilah a look that she read as permission to follow him. She gingerly patted her bandaged arm and got up on her feet to follow him. She was alarmed by the ongoings in the other room.

Prince Damian was glaring at the cowering medical practitioner.

"Why are you treating him like an animal?" Damian punctuated slowly. He observed the leather straps that the healers were in the process of tying around his father's limbs, "Who gave you permission to add those straps to the medical inventory?"

"He is acting in a deranged fashion that is beyond our control. Your Highness, you must try and understand that our sovereign might be losing his mind," The harassed healer exclaimed in a high pitch. The man took a step backwards out of pure instinct as Damian stalked towards him.

"My father is not insane. He was absolutely fine until last winter when he started getting treatment for a sore throat. To jump from a sore throat to insanity in four months is preposterous," Damian growled marching to the end of the room where he rested head against a wall looking like the pressure of watching his father so ill was taking its toll. Another wail from his father got him to look up again.

"Get out," Damian roared fiercely, abruptly making Delilah jump. She wondered if she was included in this order but decided that she would pretend otherwise.

"But, but, your father, he will harm himself if we do not restrain him," The healer pleaded. The other healers nodded frantically trying to make the Prince see reason.

"I can help," Delilah spoke up out of the blue and all eyes in the room turned towards her. Even days afterwards she never understood where the courage to speak up, in such an ignited situation, came to her. She gulped audibly but instead of quelling under the scrutiny she gathered her skirt and walked towards the man struggling in his bed. She still was in awe that she was leaning against the bed of the Ruler of their Kingdom.

"Please," Delilah turned to one medical attendant, politely, "Would you kindly get me a cup of Passionflower tea. If that is not available then a mixture of chamomile and Lemon balm would substitute nicely."

"Tea? How can flavoured tea help your Majesty? He needs some intensive chemicals to align his mental facilities," The healer in charge questioned her with a great degree of skepticism. The King roughly shoved his arm in her direction but she swiftly avoided it.

Delilah pulled out the familiar bottle of Lavender from the side table and popped it open, "There is much wisdom in plants that even you as a healer must acknowledge their benefits since so many of your medicines come from these very plants?"