Upon A Time

Chapter Ten

Charlotte collected herself at last and finally headed home. She knew she would be missed there, and hoped her delay wouldn’t cause her father any difficulty. The poor man was working himself half to death and the strain was beginning to show.

“I’m back, Father. I apologize for being late, it was unavoidable,” she whispered, assuming Julien would be asleep, or, once again unconscious from pain. What she found was so surprising she was rendered speechless.

“Good afternoon, My Lady,” Julien said, nodding to her politely. He was sitting up in bed, and he had one of her father’s old white shirts draped over his good arm and halfway across his chest. It was apparent her father had given him the best possible washing considering his injuries; his hair was wet and drying into curls that came down over the collar of the shirt. More than that, though, was the surprise that her father had removed the bulk of the stitches from the left side of his face. Tender flesh showed where they had been, but his face appeared much more that of a man now and less that of a sad, badly-sewn rag doll.

“Julien, you’re sitting up! What a glorious sight!” She rushed to her father and hugged him tightly. “You are a worker of miracles, truly, and these hands are blessed.” She kissed his face, and the old man blushed.

“Now Charlotte, it is as much because of your meticulous care as it is due to my dubious skills as a surgeon this man is in the condition he now is. Still, we must guard against infection, Julien. You know what that means.”

“Yes, sir, I am aware, I must not touch my face, no matter how it itches.” He winced. “And itch, it does.”

“That means it is healing. I will mix up a salve for that, as well. It will soothe.” Charlotte set about her work, and her father nodded.

“If no one requires me, I shall rest an hour before dinner. Charlotte?”

“Things appear to be well in hand here. Rest well, Father.”

“Thank you again, sir,” Julien said, waving once with his stronger arm.

“I am honored to be in your service,” Walter said, bowing slightly, daring in this moment of privacy to add, “Your Highness.”

“Please, I am but a guest in your home. Only Julien.”

Walter nodded, and then he was gone. A moment later Julien noticed that Charlotte was sniffling as she ran a damp cloth over her face and then took up scrubbing her hands in preparation for mixing his salve.             

“What troubles you so, Charlotte?” he asked gently. “You’re weeping,”

“I am merely thankful to see you in this condition,” Charlotte replied, knowing it was only half truth, but not wanting to speak of what had happened earlier to anyone, least of all Julien. “So many times we thought we may lose you, and that was before we even knew how much your life would mean, to so very many people.”

“Ah,” Julien said, looking disappointed. “You weep for joy because the Prince may yet restore righteous rule to the land.”

Charlotte lowered her head, focusing on the mortar and pestle in her hands. “I weep for joy because a fine man escaped such a dark fate. Whether he be future king or local blacksmith, he is entitled to a few tears of joy over his salvation.”

“How is the local blacksmith?” Julien asked now, crossing his good arm over his stomach. “I have yet to truly make his acquaintance, and I look forward to doing so. I wish to thank him appropriately for all that he has done. I will, if I am restored to my rightful place, thank you all much more properly than I have been able.”