"Come in."

Pushing the door to Queen Valanice's office open, Ren wasn't surprised to see King Graham in the room along with his wife.

"Ah, Ren. Please, sit. Before you ask, I'm feeling better than ever. My current concern is Alexander; Valanice was just telling me about your conversation earlier. Have you had a chance to speak with him?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Just now, actually," Ren answered as he took the last empty chair in the room. "Regarding immediate physical issues, he seems healthy enough; no recent injuries other than a few minor scrapes. He could, however, definitely do with adding more weight on, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Valanice nodded. "I made sure he knows the kitchens are always open if he ever wants anything."

"Good." Ren glanced down at the notes he had brought with him. "I noted a set of scars on his hands, though nothing outside of what I would expect if he spent a lot of time doing kitchen work. Beyond that, though, there was one finding I think you should both be aware of." Ren cleared his throat. He had delivered worse news to parents throughout his career, but it didn't make this any easier. "There was another set of scars on his shoulders, the backs of his arms, and down his back. Some older, some newer."

Valanice bridged her nose with her hands, her eyes closed. "And you think the kidnapper did that to him." She opened her eyes, her intense stare unwavering as she look at Ren.

"Yes," he said simply. "At this point, he became unresponsive, I imagine similar to how your daughter described. To him, it's as if he's back in some previous moment of his life. Often these events can be triggered by a sound, touch, smell - even a thought. I'd recommend against touching him if he's in no danger of accidentally injuring himself. Talk to him in a soft voice and try to remind him of where he is - you could try mentioning sensations that are real - smells, touch, sights - anything that would help ground him to reality."

"I'll make sure Rosella knows. Is there anything you can give him?" Asked Valanice.

"I gave him a mild calming mixture to take if he feels overwhelmed. We can increase the dosage if needed. And, of course, if you ever feel like there's anything else I can do to help, I'm here."

"Thank you, Ren."

After the physician left, Valanice turned to her husband. Graham had said nothing since Ren first walked in, but she could see her own growing anger reflected in the set of his jaw. He looked at her and in a tight voice she rarely heard, "I'm going to go walk for a bit. I'm afraid if I stay here, some of your things may end up broken."

She nodded. Well she remembered more than a few things being broken by her own hand, in the months and years following their son's disappearance. As she heard the door again open and close, she realized her leg was hurting from her nails digging into it. She tried to relax her hand, but now it was shaking and wouldn't stop. She rested her head on the back of her chair instead, staring up at the ceiling. She didn't think she'd ever been this tired in her life, not even after giving birth to the twins.

Memories of them floated to mind, of how small they had been then. The sweetness of their snuggles, the tiny yawns, and wide black eyes. And then had come the moment when there was only one pair of eyes left to stare back up at her, only one tiny bundle to carry leaving her other arm cold and empty. The moment her son had been torn from her grasp, dragged off to a life of pain and servitude. A sob escaped her, then a second, and then she stopped bothering to try to stop them and gave in to the flood that followed.

At some point, she realized her husband's arms were around her as they kneeled together on the floor in front of the fireplace. She hugged him tight as she felt a tear of his own drop onto her arm. For awhile, they said nothing as they simply took comfort in each other's company.

"How did we ever let this happen, Graham? We were supposed to protect him, and instead, this monster…" Valanice's voice choked, and she stopped, unable to continue. It was a question they had asked themselves repeatedly throughout the years. She had tried to believe that there wasn't anything they could have done; no way they could have known what was coming. But seeing her son finally home brought that guilt back stronger than ever.

"I know. I know," Graham whispered, resting his head next to hers. "I've asked myself the same. But he's here now, safe."

"He's here, yes." She broke out of his embrace to turn and look at him. "But at what cost? He just seems so… broken." The last word came out as barely more than a whisper, a thought she could barely bring herself to voice aloud as she stared down at her hands.

"Ren said he needs time. So, we'll give it to him," Graham said. He tipped her head up so she could look at him. "He'll get better, I know it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Look at what he's done. He not only survived, he saved us all. But more than that: because his mother is the strongest and kindest woman I know. Because you're in his life now, and Rosella, and Ren, and all the rest of Daventry." He kissed her forehead.

Valanice laid her head back on his chest again. "And you."

"And me."