Chapter 6: Healing Hands, Waiting Hearts
Aeryn stood in the physician's room, glancing around the shelves filled with vials and herbs. Garen, the chief physician, explained each item with meticulous detail, and Aeryn listened, fascinated. The soothing atmosphere, the quiet focus of the healers, brought him a sense of calm he hadn't felt since Eirik left that morning.
"I think I'll ask Eirik if I can work with the physicians," Aeryn said thoughtfully, running his fingers over the jars of salves and oils. The idea excited him. It felt like something he could excel at—something useful, away from the pressures of court life.
Garen, however, hesitated. "A royal prince working in such a common role…" he began, frowning slightly. "It's not something we often see."
Aeryn turned to face him, his expression earnest. "I don't mind. I want to help."
The physician studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. "With your lord husband's permission, I'd be honored to have you here, Your Highness. For now, you're welcome to observe."
Aeryn smiled gratefully and settled into a corner, watching the student healers work under Garen's supervision. The methodical tasks, the gentle mixing of herbs and potions—it was calming. For the first time that day, Aeryn's mind wasn't filled with worry about Eirik or the unnerving council member.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Aeryn decided it was time to leave. He rose to his feet, but as he did, a slight wince crossed his face. Garen noticed immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing in concern.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" Garen asked, stepping closer.
Aeryn flushed, realizing the cause of his discomfort. "I'm fine," he said softly, though his slight limp betrayed him.
Garen's lips twitched in understanding, and without a word, he reached for a small jar of ointment from the shelf. "Here," he said, handing it to Aeryn. "This will help with the soreness."
Aeryn's cheeks burned as he took the jar. "Thank you."
The physician's expression remained professional, though there was a hint of humor in his voice. "The lord is quite… large, and you are considerably smaller. It's normal for the first few times to be uncomfortable. It will get easier."
Aeryn's face turned a bright shade of red, and he nodded, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. But Garen wasn't done.
"I'll have a word with the lord when he returns," Garen continued, his tone calm. "He should prepare you more thoroughly in the future—stretch you, use more lubrication. It will make the experience less painful."
Aeryn swallowed, his embarrassment nearly unbearable. "I—I'll mention it to him," he stammered before quickly bowing and making his escape.
He hurried through the halls, the jar of ointment clutched tightly in his hands. By the time he reached the dining room for lunch, he had managed to calm himself somewhat, though his thoughts still wandered back to Eirik. Worry gnawed at him—was Eirik safe? Was the conflict at the border more dangerous than he let on?
Aeryn ate alone, the empty room amplifying his loneliness. He poked at his food absentmindedly, thinking about his husband. The longing surprised him. Despite the short time they had spent together, he found himself wanting to know more about Eirik, to understand him better. He wished they had talked more before Eirik had left that morning.
He sighed and finished his meal, resolving that when Eirik returned, they would talk. He would make the effort to truly connect with his husband.
After lunch, Aeryn wandered to the library. The vast room, filled with shelves of old tomes, was quiet and comforting. As he perused the books, he was approached by an older man who introduced himself as Harlan, the royal tutor.
"Your Highness, I've been meaning to meet you," Harlan said with a respectful bow. "Lord Eirik has instructed me to teach you Felgon history and our native language. As his consort, you will need to take on more responsibilities within our land."
Aeryn's heart lifted at the thought. Eirik had been thinking of him, planning for his future not as a mere political pawn but as someone who could truly belong here. It filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected. "Thank you," he said softly. "I would like that."
The lessons began, and Aeryn found himself enjoying them more than he expected. Harlan was patient, guiding him through the basics of the Felgon language and recounting the kingdom's rich history. It made Aeryn feel connected, not only to the land but also to Eirik's world. He smiled to himself, happy that Eirik was willing to share this part of his life with him, to help him become more than just a decorative figure.
By the time evening fell, Aeryn bid Harlan goodnight and made his way to the dining hall for supper. Once again, he ate alone, the absence of his husband weighing on him. He picked at his food, feeling the loneliness creeping back in.
After dinner, he returned to his quarters, changing into something comfortable. He sat in front of the newly lit fireplace, letting the warmth of the flames and the lingering water from his bath soothe his tired body. He opened a book on Felgon history, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Eirik. It was nearly 11 by the time he looked up, the fire crackling softly.
Aeryn applied the ointment Garen had given him, feeling the soothing relief almost immediately. But despite the tiredness pulling at him, he couldn't bring himself to go to bed. His thoughts were on Eirik—was he safe? Would he make it back by midnight?
The thought of something happening to Eirik unsettled him deeply, more than he expected. He wanted to stay awake, to be sure his husband returned safely. So, he sat by the fire, waiting, his mind swirling with the desire to connect more with Eirik, to make this marriage something real. The maids knocked on his door, concerned for his well-being, but he dismissed them kindly, bidding them leave.
And so, Aeryn waited, alone but hopeful, for his husband's return.
