Rise of a Fallen Man (A Look in the Mirror #2)

Chapter 14

Ari

F ather lay in bed. His riding coat was off. His shirt had been cut open. A white sheet hid the lower part of his body from the waist down. Scuffs and bruises bloomed on his chest, but there were no open wounds visible and not much blood. Was it a good sign?

“Trebor.” Mother rushed to him, no longer looking like a powerful queen but simply like a regular woman terrified of losing a loved one.

The royal witch was already here, organizing the small team of her helpers.

“Anna...” Mother’s name drowned in a trickle of blood from the corner of Father’s mouth.

A witch’s apprentice wiped it off with a gauze, but another trickle came with Father’s next labored breath. He closed his eyes, giving up on trying to speak.

Horror gripped my throat. His bleeding was internal. Father had some terrible wounds that we couldn’t see.

I grabbed the royal witch by the sleeve of her ivory-white robe.

“How is he?” I asked.

She glanced at my parents uneasily.

Mother came to us, leaving Father in the healing team’s care for a moment.

“Please be frank,” she told the witch in a hushed voice for only the three of us to hear. “I need to know the truth.”

The royal witch crumpled a clean piece of gauze in her fingers. “The king has excessive internal injuries, Your Majesty, to his chest and...um, his groin.”

Mother swallowed hard, pressing her lips tightly together.

“Can you help him?”

To my relief, the witch nodded with a certain confidence. “As you know, I have diverse knowledge in healing arts. I have successfully dealt with similarly complex cases. In addition, I have already sent for lung and heart specialists. We will operate as soon as they arrive.”

“What kind of operation does he need?” I asked. “What exactly are his injuries?”

“Several of his ribs are broken. One has punctured his lung.” At Mother’s strangled gasp, the witch leaned in, speaking firmly, “With our combined skills, knowledge, and magic, the king is in good hands, Your Majesty.”

Mother inhaled a brief, shuddering breath.

“Will he live?” she rasped.

“We will do our best.” The witch blinked, the confidence in her voice cracked a little.

“What concerns you?” I prodded.

“Your Highness...” the witch addressed me hesitantly. “This may be best discussed with Her Majesty alone.”

Mother waved her off. “Princess Aniri has the right to hear the truth about her father’s condition.”

The witch inclined her head. “Very well. The king took a blow to his...um, male area. The damage is severe enough to require a...um, reconstruction of some sorts.”

“Can you do it?” I asked.

“We will do our best. However, that is a very narrow field of knowledge that hasn’t been thoroughly explored. Of course there are some options—”

“Do you not know a specialist who could successfully operate on a male’s penis?” I cut her short.

The witch seemed flustered.

“We will do our best,” she repeated the same thing again. “I do have to warn Her Majesty, however, that as a result of his injuries, the king may not...well... He may be unable to perform his marital duties in the future.”

“I don’t care about his performance ,” the queen exclaimed. “I just want him alive. Please do everything you can. If there is anything you need from the crown—”

The lung and heart specialists arrived—both middle-aged, self-assured women. Their teams joined them, immediately making Father’s spacious bedroom feel cramped.

I could no longer come close enough to the bed to even see Father.

“We need some space here,” the royal witch announced. “Anyone who is not assisting during the surgery, please leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mother declared resolutely, taking a seat at her husband’s side.

No one dared argue with her.

“I’ll wait outside.” I gave the queen a warm smile in parting.

A crowd had already gathered in the king’s front parlor outside his bedroom. Courtiers, servants, and Father’s gentlemen-in-waiting spoke in subdued voices, speculating on the king’s condition and waiting for updates.

Leafar was at my side the moment I closed the door behind me.

“Your Highness, I’m so sorry.” He stopped short of taking my hand and twisted a polished bronze button on his riding coat instead.

I nodded, but said nothing, going over the words of the royal witch in my head.

“Such a most unfortunate accident.” Leafar shook his head, his eyebrows raised in a tragic expression.

“You were with Father this morning,” I remembered. “How did it happen?”

He cleared his throat, darting a glance aside.

“A few gentlemen-in-waiting decided to race along a trail with obstacles that included a farm fence. His Majesty joined them.”

I scraped a hand down my face. “Oh, he should’ve known better.”

Father wasn’t the best on horseback. Riding wasn’t something he enjoyed or did often. But I could see how he might’ve gotten excited and carried away in the company of the prince’s younger entourage.

“Yes, yes. He most certainly should’ve known better,” Leafar eagerly agreed. “The king is not in his best shape. He doesn’t practice regularly, he admitted it himself. And in his age... Well, it’s no wonder his horse didn’t clear the fence. He shouldn’t have even tried. It was stupid—”

I raised a hand, stopping him. What Leafar was saying might be true, but it was absolutely not what I needed to hear when my father was fighting for his life.

The door to the bedroom opened, and one of the healing witches exited.

“Any updates?” I accosted her before she even closed the door behind her.

She shook her head. “Not at the moment, Your Highness. The surgery is just about to begin. We are optimistic about its outcome. I need to fetch my trunk with potions. I don’t trust anyone else to carry it. Some vials are so fragile.”

“How long will the surgery last?”

“It depends on the full extent of the king’s internal injuries that we will assess during the surgery, but I expect the initial procedure would take us about two to three hours with a possible follow-up later, including the amputation.”

My breath hitched. “What amputation?”

“Oh, I thought the royal witch discussed this with you already.” She glanced around, leaning closer to my ear. “Some of the king’s injuries include those in a delicate area—”

“You mean the damage to his pelvis?”

“Yes, yes, that is exactly what I mean. His Majesty’s...” She steepled her fingers in front of her, hesitating in her choice of words, “...male organ has been compromised. The best option we see right now—”

“Is to cut it off?” I finished for her, tired of her beating around the bush. “Without an attempt at reconstructive surgery?”

She cleared her throat. “It’s a delicate area, Your Highness. Way too complex to operate effectively and impossible to preserve its functions.”

“Impossible? Or you just don’t know how to do it?”

It occurred to me that everyone in that bedroom right now was a woman, except for the patient. While men weren’t explicitly forbidden to study healing arts, the medical college required an endorsement from a witches’ coven for admission, and only women could be witches.

The healing witch hiked her chin, staring down her nose at me indignantly. “I have some of the highest qualifications in the healing arts—”

“I don’t doubt your expertise, esteemed healer.” I nodded. “It’s just not exactly in the required area, is it?”

“It is unnecessary in this case. The king’s ability to have children is no longer crucial. Her Majesty also agreed with us on the procedure.”

Mother was too distraught and worried about Father’s life. But Father deserved to have options.

“What does the king think about it?”

The witch looked at me, perplexed. “The king is in no position to give consent.”

“Exactly. He can’t consent to anything right now. And you’re planning to cut off a part of his body without even an attempt to save it.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, that ‘part’ is no longer necessary—”

“With all due respect, I believe that if given a choice, my father would very much prefer to keep his penis attached.”

She blushed when I used the actual name of “the part” in question. I recalled a conversation I once had during an official visit to the Egami College of the Healing Arts. A professor had explained to me that the male body is essentially the same as the female, with only some insignificant differences that don’t warrant a development of a separate course of studies.

“You had no chance to learn much about that part, did you?” I sighed.

“I assure you I possess a vast academic knowledge and practical expertise that comes from the decades of tireless work healing my patients.”

“Of course.” There was no use in arguing since despite all that combined knowledge and expertise that was currently assembled in my father’s bedroom, not a single person in there had the exact skill he needed.

That didn’t mean the queendom had no experts of that kind. I saw the results of their work not so long ago.

“Thank you for the updates,” I said to the witch. “I’ll let you go get your potions to fix my father’s lungs and ribs and save his life as you promised, but please...” I got hold of her arm, making sure she paid attention. “Please, don’t let the royal witch amputate anything yet.”

“What do you mean, Your Highness?” She looked confused.

I explained, “I need to make a few inquiries to possibly find an expert in the male area to aid your efforts.” “Meanwhile, I don’t want anyone to cut anything off. Do you understand me?”

She blinked at me rapidly, clearly lost for words.

“Do not amputate,” I said loud and clear, then added a threat to ensure she understood, “Don’t chop off anything until my return or I’ll personally make sure that your head is chopped off for malpractice. Is that clear?”

She drew in a breath, her eyes opening wide in shock.

I left her and Leafar gawk at each other while I marched out of the room with a new mission at hand.