Lady of Silences

The Marquis

Typhan sat in the dark of her father's bedchamber, listening to the rasping of breath. It was a ragged, wet sound. The air was humid, full of a pleasantly smelling vapor that wafted out of three or four pots of steaming water steeped with herbs. Master Drusier moved among them, his face grim, setting more herbs into the water and filling the pots again with boiling water from a large kettle.

"I have given him a mild sedative, which will keep him comfortable for the moment. He is conscious, but with his breathing so labored he may not be able to talk." Drusier bent over the bed, listening to his patient's breathing with a long wooden instrument that he set upon Kiant's chest. He frowned and turned back to where Typhan sat just a few feet away.

"I must be blunt, my Lady. I will not give you false hope. His lungs are filling with fluids more quickly than I can relieve them. He will not last through the night."

She nodded, unable to speak. It had been a long night and half-day of travel from Portho. Dahlia had bundled her into a carriage with blankets, a basket of food and drink, and sent them off into the dark with orders to her drivers to stop for nothing. Corinus sat across from her in the small but plush cabin, resting his feet on the cushion across from hers. By unspoken agreement they both tried to sleep this way as the coach drove them towards Rhounet. But Typhan had found sleep hard to come by as her stomach jangled and shook with each bump and crook in the road. She had listened to the steady breathing of her companion and tried to cultivate calm. Eventually she dozed, but it was a fitful sleep and only barely rested her.

Now she sat by her father's bed, bathed in steam. He had been feeling ill when she left Rhounet only a few weeks ago, but he had assured her it was just a seasonal cough and nothing to worry about. But the older he got the more frequently his breathing troubled him. What was once in his youth a brief annoyance that was easily cured by steam treatments and herbal teas had become far more serious as he aged. He lay on the bed now, chest rising and falling rapidly, a shell of the man she had left behind so recently. Typhan had only been so close to death once before in her life, and she felt its hand upon the room now. She cleared her throat and stood up, moving next to the physician.

"Thank you, Petris. I understand." He moved away and began packing instruments back into a large leather bag. Once those were safely stowed he pulled out two vials from a side pocket.

"He held out the smaller of the two, filled with a thick, white liquid. "This is a strong sedative and painkiller. Normally I use this sparingly, as it depresses the respiration, but he is past worrying about that. With your permission I will keep this out and administer as needed to keep him comfortable."

Typhan nodded. "Of course."

Drusier held out the other vial, a blue colored liquid. "This will bring him to alertness for a time. It will restore vigor and allow him to speak to you, but it also taxes the systems greatly. He will only be lucid for a short time, and then his pain will return in full. If you wish to speak with him, I can use this and follow it with the sedative, once you are ready."

"Yes, I think that's best."

Typhan watched silently as the physician drew his syringe and administered the medication. It took only a moment to begin its work. Kiant's eyes fluttered and he took a deeper breath, coughing. Drusier brought a chair closer to the bedside and Typhan took her father's hand and sat down beside him.

"Don't try to sit up." She squeezed his hand gently. "I'm right here."

Kiant opened his eyes and smiled. For the first time in hours she looked into her father's eyes, still clear and bright, his pupils dilated from the medications.

"Ty, my mouse. I thought you had gone away."

"I'm home again Daddy." Typhan smiled. "You know I can't stand to be away for long."