Upon A Time

Chapter Seventeen Part Two

The Queen hurried to try to compose herself, taking a fine linen handkerchief from her sleeve and drying both eyes with it before turning her attention back to Charlotte. “But how?”

Charlotte indicated Thomas. “You have this man to thank. But I wonder, your Majesty, is it truly safe for us to tell you all of this here, now? Might not the walls have eyes and ears?”

“This is the safest time there could be, though that window is rapidly closing,” the Queen replied, slowly moving to a chair and lowering herself down into it. It was clear she was sickened by grief. The shock of finding out that her son still lived, while a joyous one, had knocked her from her feet. “Please, sit close to me, you must be exhausted. Bring those chairs nearer, and explain to me as quickly as you can, all of this. But first, as much as it pains me to do so...” She handed the letter to Thomas. “Sir, if you would be so kind as to put that into the fire? Now that I have seen it, it is better if no other eyes chance upon it. For your safety as well as… his.” She began to break down again, and Charlotte’s heart ached for her.

Thomas did as he was asked. Then he drew two heavy chairs near to the Queen’s position and held one for Charlotte as she sat.

“Secure the doors,” the Queen ordered next, and Thomas did so. Only then did he take his seat.

“You said I owe this man my son’s life, how is that possible?”

Thomas was sorry to have to relay such a terrible story. “I found your son in the shallows of a stream, gravely injured and close to death, Your Majesty.”

“And you are a physician, or know of one? Who cared for him, who has kept him alive?”

“Her father is as close to a physician as our village has, Your Majesty,” Thomas answered. “He tended to your son with the greatest possible care.”

“Who nursed his wounds?” The Queen asked, though from the look on Charlotte’s face at hearing the story retold, she had little doubt who it had been.

“She did, Your Majesty.”

“You did.” She turned to Charlotte, and Charlotte nodded meekly. “Well, speak, girl. Tell me the honest truth, how badly is he injured? Is he expected to recover?”

“To a degree, Your Majesty.” Charlotte’s voice was heavy with sorrow. “You must prepare yourself. He was very badly hurt. Not only by the attack itself but by the horse, which trampled him in the chaos.”

“He is going to be all right?” The Queen begged, grasping Charlotte’s hand in a crushing grip.

“He will live. His mind is sound, and he will be fit to rule. His physiognomy, however, is forever changed. He is disfigured, on the left side of his face. He has also lost an eye and the left leg below the knee.” Charlotte paused as the Queen first turned pale, then her skin took on a greenish hue. “Shall I stop?”

“No.” The woman took a few slow breaths with her eyes closed and then looked at Charlotte again. She reached out and touched her cheek. “It seems I owe you my son’s life as well, because without your care surely infection would have taken him, had the wounds not. You, this man, and your father; I am indebted to you beyond my ability to express.”

“We have only done what should be done for any man. We had no idea who he was, to be honest, when we found him. But soon the pieces fell into place, and here we are.” Charlotte glanced at the Queen sideways. “May I ask a question, Your Majesty?”

“Ask what you like, my child.”

“How is it you so easily believe our story? How is it you know we are telling the truth?”