18. The smell of hospitals in winter
There was almost snow – a real snow – on the ground. She could see the greening grass through the gaping breaks in the cover of white as spring fought its yearly struggle against the winter cold for its right and turn to birth. The clacking of her low heels in the frigid halls seemed exceptionally loud in her ears as they continued to the wards housing extended-stay patients; the princess and her escort making the rounds. But even still, she continued onward. There were crewmen to see.
She…despised these hospital visits, yet knew them necessary. She truly enjoyed seeing their faces when she visited them personally, expressing her honest wishes in hoping for their recoveries and assuring that they were indeed comfortable and well looked after. They were almost always first overtaken with awe and embarrassment that their princess would be inconvenienced by them, but that would quickly turn to gratitude at the gesture of the personal task and genuine show of concern. Her people needed her as much as she needed them.
She loved them, loved seeing them grow, loved seeing them getting better.
But it was his dark visage in the glass as she passed that would call to her, draw her eyes deep into his shadow as he stood with his cape and cane. Sometimes he stared at her, sometimes through. She didn't know what he was looking for, in or beyond her. It was this - that fear of seeing him portrayed in the too-clean glass - that kept her visiting. She had to get over the irrational insecurities and wants she'd held – and still did – about the man who had controlled her. And she had happily let him move her as he'd wished. She had to get over such weaknesses if she were to become the strong leader their country needed.
And it was the hope that one day he might be one of those, found and saved by their medicine so that he may continue to live. He may even be content, this time around.
Saved, so that they could both start over, again.