The Understudy of an Alchemist

29. The Agreement

He unties the scarf to inspect it once more, causing me to flinch. "You're right. We need to get it stitched now." He takes my hands. "Let's go to the infirmary."

~*~

Only one doctor remained in the royal infirmary. He was a middle aged man, with a balding head and half mooned spectacles. He looks up from the clipboard he was furiously scribbling upon as Varian and I, wearing my new dress, enter the room. "Can I help you with any-" before his eyes fall upon my neck. His cheery expression contorts into one of horror as his clipboard falls to the ground with a clatter.

He darts over to us and takes my face in his hands, as he stares at the wound. "How did this happen?" He questions, his voice serious. For a moment, I want to lie, but some sixth sense compells me to answer truthfully. If I lie, the wound may not be given the right treatment. "A knife." I say softly, and his eyes widen even more at this. "It's from the Saporian raid upon the castle, isn't it?" He sighs. "You poor girl. Don't worry, I'm going to fix you right up." He takes my hand and guides me to one of the hospital beds.

"Now just sit here a moment sweetheart, let me just fill out a form." He hunts for the clipboard he'd dropped which Varian hands to him. "Thank you." He then returns to my side, dips his quill in the inkwell, before starting to fill out the form. "What is your name child?" "Violet Asaki." I respond calmly. "Birthdate?" "August thirteenth, 1805." His eyebrows raise. "Oh, happy birthday for yesterday." I wince at the memory, twisting the cyan streak. "Thank you sir." "Please. You may call my Dr Lewis. Who do I put down as your legal guardian?"

Varian steps forward. "Me." Dr Lewis nods. "Are you her brother or-" I shake my head. "No. Write down Henry and Agnes Weathers please. They're my parents." He scrawls this down, before turning back to me. "Where are they now?" I bow my head. "I don't know sir." He frowns at this, before putting the clipboard aside to dry. "Now Miss Asaki, if you don't mind, could you please lie down?" I oblige, and rest my head upon the hard pillow.

He turns to a dish cotton swabs that are floating in a bath of warm salty water. He picks one of them up, before he leans over me, the cotton bud dripping on the floor, yet he seems not to mind nor notice. "Now I may warn you, this will hurt. I will need to give you an anaesthetic injection when I put the stitches in, but until then, this will hurt a great deal." I nod, biting my lip tightly as preparation. Varian looks away, blood. The doctor holds out the cotton swab, and begins to dab it upon my neck.

When I was ten, Varian and I had been climbing up a tree, when the branch I'd been holding onto snapped. I'd fallen out of the tree and broken two of my ribs. Breaking ribs is different to breaking your arm, however; you can't just put it in a splint. You kind of just have to let it heal. It was a nightmare, I couldn't breathe without being in agony with every breath. I'd had to tightly cross my arms across my body when I talked, it was so painful.

That had been the worst pain that I'd ever experienced. But the exact second the warm salty water makes contact with my skin, I suddenly have a new first. I cry out in pain and begin twisting and struggling as I try to edge away from the liquid touching my skin. Hearing my distress, the doctor temporarily stops, as I continue to fidget and squeal in pain. I know that it's embarrassing, I probably look like a child, but I'm in too much pain to care. He wasn't exaggerating.

Without warning, a hand suddenly reaches out and takes my own hand. The action startles me, causing me jolt in shock. "Just squeeze my hand." Varian reassures me, I tilt my head slightly to face him, wary of twisting too much and causing the gash to protest. His expression is one of concern, yet he smiles reassuringly at me once our eyes lock. "You can do this." He whispers; my throat hurts too much to talk, so I just squeeze his hand in response.