CANDY
Chapter Five
I was eager to get some feedback from my friends but Nyssa wasn't in the TARDIS and Tegan was nowhere to be found. Vandon was with his tutor, which I thought was unusual, as his lessons were usually over by lunchtime. The princess and I took tea alone. She seemed tired, but no moreso than I had come to expect. Somehow, though, something felt wrong. I asked her if we might meet privately after tea and she seemed hesitant but acceded. We walked together to her suite. An attendant opened the door for us. The princess entered first, of course, and the attendant closed the door behind us. Immediately, the princess turned to speak to me, looking extremely distressed, opening her mouth, closing her eyes and dropping almost all the way to the ice blue plush carpet before I caught her. I put her in her rocking chair, where she regained consciousness within moments and stopped me from calling an attendant. "No," she murmured. "Sit. Please." I sat.
We sat in silence for several minutes. "Tell me what I can do to help," I said.
"Nothing."
"Has your connection found a source of Prussian blue?"
"Not yet. Has Nyssa produced any?"
"I don't know," I sighed. "I haven't seen her all day. I am getting a little worried." The last thing I wanted to do was share my personal concerns with the princess; I was there to find out who was poisoning her and reverse what I could of what the poison was already doing to her. Since Nyssa was a crucial part of that, I had to ask: "I don't suppose you've seen her?" The princess shook her head and even this small movement apparently made her dizzy; she closed her eyes and I half rose to catch her if she slid out of her seat, but she didn't. She opened her eyes again shortly.
"I want to tell you a secret," she said, "but I don't know how well you keep secrets."
"Very well indeed," I responded, perhaps too enthusiastically; her secret might be something that saved her life. My enthusiasm didn't encourage her. She eyed me thoughtfully, not to say suspiciously. "Any information might help at this point. I am hitting brick walls."
"All right," she finally sighed. "But what I am about to tell you would have serious consequences if it left this room." I nodded my understanding. "I know some of my staff know, or think they know. It can't be helped. They protect me and they protect my privacy. They are so loyal I sometimes wonder if I deserve their loyalty. I don't have much to offer them apart from employment."
"Maybe they just love you for yourself."
"That is unlikely. I don't… they can't… it isn't my job to be known or loved." She paused and looked around, as if there might be someone else in the room. "But I am loved," she said in a small voice. "And I love someone."
"You're not talking about your son…." Upon her sharp glance I amended, "The prince." She laughed.
"Sorry. We are speaking intimately here. You may refer to him as my son, or by his name, or by his title, or even as 'the child.' It doesn't matter. No, I am trying to tell you I have a lover. There, I said it."
I didn't try to look surprised; I was surprised at her openness and that was good enough. "May I ask who?"
"His name is Norell. He is from my home country, Barcla. He is a commoner. I don't care. We have known each other since childhood and although our paths have taken us in different directions, sometimes keeping us apart for years, we never stopped loving one another."
"Pardon my ignorance, but why is this a secret?"
She lowered her voice, although we were, of course, alone in the room. "Sometimes I feel as if someone or something is communicating with me. It may be a side effect of the poison, or some latent talent I don't want to have, or just plain madness, but I do get these strong feelings." I was stunned and let her go on. "There is something I don't know, a secret, but it's my secret and I don't even know it. It's something awful and I can't share it, not with you, not even with him. Well, I couldn't share it even if I knew what it was, and I don't."
I took my time answering. "Your Highness, I am at a loss, except to say that sometimes something seems awful but comes to be… less awful, maybe not awful at all."
"My dread is just a fantasy?"
"Your feelings are real. That includes your dread. And maybe what you dread is not a fantasy either. The fantasy part is assuming what you dread is actually dreadful."
I was afraid she was going to chastise me for seeming to say her dread was uncalled for. I hadn't meant that at all. She didn't do that; instead she looked pensive and we sat in silence again.
I wanted to go see if I could find either of my friends but I also wanted not to be the one to call an end to the meeting. At one point I thought she might have fallen asleep in her rocking chair, and I am still not quite sure she didn't, just for a minute, but she opened her eyes and said "Thank you, Doctor. Perhaps I shall see you at dinner, which I suspect will be late tonight." She closed her eyes again. I was dismissed.