-The Prince-
Captain Lorren managed to find a sailor who spoke a little Masserin, and after finally repeating the phrase "friendly boat" in as many contexts as possible, the former slaves finally allowed their rowers to be pulled out of the water.
Sailors gave up their jackets and blankets to the dozens of men women and children who all stood shivering on the upper deck. They refused to descend lower into the ship for shelter and no one blamed them.
A somber silence rested across everyone aboard the ship. Cinderella had fallen asleep against the mast, and Charles was content to let her rest while the ship made its way back to the port.
"What are we going to do?" Derrick asked.
He had been pacing between Charles and Captain Lorren while wringing his hands.
"I am going to get everyone back safely. I am a sailor, so my job ends at the sea. Everything else is up to the both of you."
"How are we even going to explain this to your parents?" Derrick asked.
Captain Lorren laughed, "You are both fools if you think they did not find out the moment we left port."
"Where can we house all of these people? How are we going to feed them?" Derrick was not known for a calm temperament. The events of the morning were starting to have an adverse effect on him.
"I have heard that Westire manor is relatively empty."
"ha ha. I was being serious Charles."
The Prince smiled, "So was I."
Derrick finally stopped pacing and stilled his working hands.
"My mother is going to string me up once she finds out about all of this."
"I will take care of it."
It was a promise he intended to keep, but when they first docked, he was at Cinderella's side. She slept through the lurching stop the ship made and when he approached he could barely get her to open her eyes.
"We made it."
He reached down and pulled her to her feet, but she swayed dangerously and he collected her against his side.
"I can walk" she mumbled, weakly pushing at his hand.
Her hands were warm, and her eyes looked heavy. He pressed his hand against the side of her face and she leaned into his hand. Her skin was warm to the touch and concern shot through him.
"We are going to go to a doctor."
Derrick did not say a word to him when he gathered her into his arms and stepped off the boat. There was a lot that needed to be done, but nothing was more important than this.
"I lied earlier," Cinderella mumbled against his chest.
"What did you lie about?" Charles asked.
"I could not walk. You saved me again."
-Doctor Fin Mattson-
The doctor was not usually a nervous sort of man, but when the crown Prince shows up to your practice covered in blood, carrying an unconscious woman, and demanding the best care, anyone would be a little nervous.
Dr. Mattson had only ever heard of the Prince. Stories of the Prince's whimsical and impish behavior did not prepare the Doctor for the stoic, hostile man who stood before him now.
"Bring her to the back room. Let me just fetch my wife."
Dr. Mattson led the Prince through his waiting room to a visiting room in the back. Once the Prince had sat the woman on the bed, Dr. Mattson ran to meet his wife, but he found her in the hall just outside.
"Who was it dear?"
"The Prince. It was the Prince. The Prince is in our spare room!" He hissed.
Harriet blinked a few times.
"What is the Prince doing here?"
"He brought someone, a woman. An injured woman."
"Why talking to me? The Prince is here!" She pushed past him toward the spare bedroom.
True to her husband's words, Harriet entered the room and saw the crown Prince first. He was on his knees at the bedside, hovering over an unconscious woman. The two of them were a haggard-looking pair, but the woman's state was slightly more concerning.
The Prince stood wearily when they walked into the room, but he did not leave his friend's side. Dr. Mattson moved to begin his assessment of the woman. Harriet moved toward the Prince.
"You will help her?" The Prince asked.
"Of course, dear," Harriet answered. "We have another bed around here somewhere. Perhaps you could use it and we could have my husband look you over next. Forgive me, but you are not looking well."
"I am fine."
The Prince was an imposing force. He was tall and well-built. His words were exact. He left no room for anyone to question what he said. Dr. Mattson would have left him alone, but Harriet was a force to be reckoned with.
"My husband will need time to examine her wounds. She looks a touch feverish and that ankle looks like it will need a splint. Do you have any medical training your highness?"
"No."
"To do a full examination we will need her to be in a state of partial undress. I assume you are not this girl's family or spouse?"
The Prince had enough propriety to look embarrassed and he took a step backward.
"No."
"I cannot force you to rest yourself, but you have already done everything you can for this woman. My husband will give her the best care."
The Prince took another step back. He looked towards the woman one last time.
"She will be okay?" He asked.
His stern demeanor slipped long enough for Harriet to see the vulnerability in that question. She asked herself for the fifth time in a short period of time who this woman could possibly be.
"She will be alright," Harriet said. She did not have the slightest idea if that was the truth, but those were the words that the Prince needed to hear. He nodded, but he did not move. Harriet looked to her husband who still regarded the Prince with fearful eyes.
"The doctor will examine her thoroughly. I will stay here to assist him, but I really must ask you to wait outside."
His shoulders sunk a few inches and his frame looked exhausted.
"Thank you." He looked from Harriet to Dr. Mattson, "Both of you. Thank you."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth and left, closing the door behind him.
"You had better make sure I did not lie to our future king." Harriet said, moving to her husband's side.
"Something tells me that we are going to have bigger problems than your conscience if there is anything wrong with the girl."
Dr. Mattson worked quickly. It was challenging with no prior patient history, but after a thorough inspection, he dressed her wounds and left her to sleep.
When Harriet finally opened the door, the Prince was standing at the door as if he had not moved an inch.
"How is she?"
Harriet stepped back to let her husband respond.
"She is what is to be expected. The ankle is not broken. It was just a severe fracture. Everything else, the bruises and cuts were all minor. She is a bit malnourished, but that is not unusual for a slave."
The Prince snapped to attention at the last word the doctor said.
"What?" The Prince asked coldly.
The doctor froze. He had not realized that his choice of words would cause such a reaction.
"I am sorry milord. Not a slave, a former slave."
He thought he was correcting his earlier mistake, but the Prince did not relent.
"Why would you call her a slave?" The Prince's voice was low and dangerous, almost threatening. Dr. Mattson nearly jumped out of his own skin.
"Please Milord, it was the brand on her wrist! Perhaps I have made an error. I meant no insult to you or your- friend." He squeaked out.
The Prince looked horrified. It was immediately apparent that he had no idea.
"Branded?" He choked out.
"It was a new wound. The beginning signs of infection were present, but I scrubbed it clean and applied my own blend of herbs. Luckily she was unconscious for most of it, so she was saved from a lot of pain. It should heal without any more unnecessary scarring or inflammation."
The Prince was quiet. He didn't even seem to be breathing. His shoulders were shaking with rage.
"Would you want to inspect the wound yourself?" Dr. Mattson asked. He did not know what else he could do to de-escalate the situation.
"No." His voice was rough. "No, thank you, Doctor. She will be able to fully recover then?"
The question the Prince asked him was full of hope. The doctor had no interest in promising him any falsehoods.
"She has not woken yet. I will know more when she does, but all physical signs show that she will recover to full health. Perhaps you would allow me to administer you something for your nerves?"
The Prince immediately shook his head.
"No. There is too much that has to be done. I need to-" he looked away from them towards the door where Cinderella lie, "I need to leave. You will take care of her?"
"Yes, your majesty. I take my job very seriously."
"If you need anything, send someone to find me and I will ensure you receive it. If she wakes before I return just tell her- tell her again that I am sorry."
The doctor bowed his head as the Prince made his exit. He wondered what the Prince could have done to generate that look in his eye of pure torment.
-The King-
The king had come down to the wharf. Everyone in town was buzzing about it. Rumors spread like wildfire about the Prince's dashing and heroic works. The tales quickly blew out of hand and some people even thought that Charles himself had bested the sea God and rescued all the slaves.
The Queen was not happy. The moment she saw him, covered in blood, distraught, and exhausted, she wrapped him in a hug.
"You are injured! She accused.
"It is not mine."
She pushed him back and frowned.
"I told them to bring you straight here! They said you refused."
"I had something more important to take care of."
"Her?" His mother's tone was hostile.
The King watched as his son's eyes widened and he drew a deep, hostile breath. The King decided to intervene before things grew out of hand.
He took his wife's hand in his.
"That girl had to be carried to a doctor immediately while our son stands a little worse for wear, but whole. Do not let your fear rule you, Letitia."
The Queen flinched.
"It was just a question!" She held up her hands in innocence, but Charles did not have the energy to play his mother's game of words.
"You have brought home quite the mess in such a short time." The King said, changing the focus of their conversation.
"I figured you needed something to do besides sit on a throne and wave to your subjects."
The king laughed, "Perhaps you are right. Either way, we have already amassed a line of aid."
"We need to send open a correspondence with Masserin immediately to arrange for the safe return of all their people," Charles said.
"Already done. I sent the steward to have it sealed and sent."
"We need to procure living arrangements for all of them until they are fit to travel. Many of them are too sick to make the journey. I have some ideas."
"Good, you can lead the council meeting I have called, but first you need to rest."
Charles shook his head. Any sleep he tried to get would be restless and haunted.
"I can rest when everything is taken care of."
The King evaluated his son evenly. When he did he saw something that frightened him more than he would ever care to admit. His son did not need lessons or direction. He was already prepared to rule.
"You will rest now. In case you have forgotten, I am still king and my word is law. I do not want to employ your mother's tactics and have you locked up. Our dungeon has already had a few additions through this last night and I have no desire to add you to their ranks."
Charles stilled at his father's confession. How could he have forgotten Lady Tremaine?
"Where is she?"
The king smiled. "You will be happy to know that I took the liberty of arresting everyone involved. Marrow Lyeman, Arredia Tremaine, and I even threw her daughters in prison for good measure. No one in that house would give me a straight answer."
"You went there yourself?"
"Of course I did. You are not the only one who can get things done around here."
Charles opened his mouth and closed it again.
"Thank you." He said finally.
"Go home and rest Charles. You have a mess to clean up when you return. "
His son did not complain. He did not even argue. He nodded and left.
Both the King and his wife let out a collective breath.
"He is fine," Letitia said, leaning into him.
"Of course he is."
Henry only agreed to appease his wife. In all truth, he did not think his son looked fine. His son looked defeated.
