Isolation
The knocking persisted.
"Come in," Orm called, propping himself up slightly. The doctor glided into his chamber with two assistants in tow, accompanied by a guard.
Orm was careful to explain his symptoms without including any details of the foreign foods. Even in confidence that he had come up with the right theory, Orm wanted the doctors analysis to be as unfettered by presupposition as possible, so he insisted that he wasn't sure where the illness had come from. The doctor begrudgingly worked with what little information he had been given, and after examining Orm's throat and feeling for tension in the muscles around his neck, he had come to some sort of conclusion.
"How long do I have left?" Orm asked, plaintively. The mere act of speech made his throat feel like needles were lodged in it.
"Oh, that's anybody's guess," the physician replied. Orm's heart sunk. "You're not going to die, if that's what you were asking."
"I'm…not?"
"No. Your sinuses are inflamed." the doctor replied. "I don't know what's making you ill but I can prescribe something that might alleviate it—once we determine the source." Orm nodded. The doctor pulled a key from his pocket, handing it to one of the assistants and sending them to fetch a specific vial from one of his medicine cabinets. She left promptly, leaving the doctor to further question Orm.
"You haven't been anywhere new recently, have you?" the physician asked.
"No; I've been spending all my time in the palace these days." Orm replied. The questions continued, inquiring as to whether he had received any strange gifts, whether his sea dragon had been acting out of the ordinary recently, whether he had changed his diet or the materials in his clothing. Most of these questions were dismissed by the young prince with statements of his ignorance; only stable attendants or underbutlers or personal chefs would know the answers to these questions. A prince had more vital issues to occupy his mind.
The servant returned with several medicinal elixirs. Exasperated, the physician eventually gave up questioning.
"I'm at a loss, Your Highness. I know what might help you, so I guess I can prescribe that and continue to monitor you for now, but we might have to try a few different things if that doesn't work."
"The idea is acceptable." Orm replied. "I will follow your advice." Having recovered from the assumption that he would be dead soon, he had regained some of his dignified attitude. Nevertheless, he felt he had perhaps been too informal and relaxed with the doctor today. I've become too accustomed to interacting with that surface girl, he chided himself.
The physician left behind a vial of medicine, explaining how and when to take it, and took his leave.
Orm was alone again. For the indefinite future, he knew, he would be confined to this room and constrained to various remedies, affording him ample time to reach a new conclusion. His misery had somewhat lessened.
(Y/N) had paddled out to sea for three nights with no sign of Orm. Each time, she had brought a newly-brewed thermos of chai with her, only to return home and drink a cup on her own.
On the fourth night, she stayed home, sitting at her bedroom window and staring down the cliff face into the little cove. There were still traces of ash in the sand from the fire she had built, leaving a tiny dark spot which had been untouched by the tides. She opened the window to smell the salt air, listening to the whispered sound of the waves and the occasional intrusive clanks from night construction at the hotel. They had been building overtime recently, likely in a rush to have things operational for the next tourist season. Involuntarily, she sighed at the thought of new and unfamiliar masses pouring into town, flooding from the coastal highway. It felt as though some faceless entity crouched in the immediate future, preparing to send ripples across the surface of her life. She was not ready.
Five days of sitting in excruciating silence had proven itself to be maddening. For the first several days, Orm was under constant surveillance, due to new paranoia of an invader in the castle. He had heard of at least two nobles who had been cast off from the king's good graces, presumably sent to a traitor's death. He did not ask for specifics; he had not asked for this information in the first place.
The headache had subsided by the third day, the sore throat by the fourth, and he was hopeful that perhaps he could be released soon.
His concerns over an intentional poisoning had been eased by the knowledge that his condition was not fatal. There was no point in an assassination attempt if it was not guaranteed to work; therefore, the surface girl had been vindicated. By extension, he reluctantly admitted, so had Vulko and the half-breed. Still, only one of the three could be considered trustworthy. Grasping the irony of the situation once again, Orm stifled a laugh.
He envisioned the sight of the stars once again. Orm was more than ready for the guards and the physician and the physician's assistants to go away, leaving him to a more pleasant form of solitude.