Bastian swallowed and blinked. Completely naked. He took a large breath a stood to walk around the room. The glimpse of her pale skin was forever engrained behind his eyes.
He sat on the white couch, back bent as he rested his elbows on his knees. He tried to think of how they would not be helped by Viskogorny, or how they would now be stuck here in asylum. But all he could think of was her pale flesh, the curves and indentations of her white skin, nearly luminescent under the blanket.
With his thoughts not leaving her unclothed body he began to shift in his breeches, finding them a little bit tighter. He blew out a breath to calm his nerves and beating heart.
He looked up when he heard a knock on the creme white door. He cleared his throat and stood, "Enter." He called in Viskogornian.
Two people entered, an aged man and a young woman.
The man was dressed in a black fur coat, white robes underneath it. A small white moustache sat under his nose. His white and silver locks were unorderly swept up and around his ears.
The young woman was wearing a simple brown frock with a white apron. Her blond hair was tucked under a handkerchief.
"I am the palace apothecary." The man said. His voice was nasally and his bright eyes were shrewd.
Bastian nodded, his features supercilious. He just wanted to appear as though he was the ruler of a country. But he felt conflicted looking so arrogant, especially where Hydrangea was concerned.
"I have prepared a few herbs and medicines that will help the fever." The ancient man continued, "Heated rocks have been put in a blanket to reheat her body."
Bastian nodded again. Seemed as though everything was solved. He squinted his eyes when he remembered that she was still not clothed.
The apothecary still stood there, his shrewd eyes watching him.
"Excellent," Bastian started, "Put on her nightgown then you may leave."
The apothecary nodded and the young woman went into an antechamber that Bastian had not seen previously.
"I will leave Dana here to monitor the woman-"
"She is not a woman." Bastian interrupted, "She is the Queen of Cadarama. And you will treat her with the respect that is due her." He commanded. Feeling a little uncomfortable ordering someone around.
He had certainly changed much.
"I apologize," The man said, bowing his head, "I will be leaving Dana here to look after her majesty. If that so pleases you Sovereign."
Bastian inhaled, "No. That will not be necessary."
The apothecary looked up, his eyes confused, but he nodded, "Very well." The woman, Dana, then reentered the room and began to dress Hydrangea.
Bastian blinked and focused elsewhere. Although he could make out the pale figure against the dark wood and red fabrics in his peripheral.
He swallowed, "How is her condition?" He asked to distract from the scene that was occurring in the room.
"She has a very high fever and is congested. She possibly has water in her lungs. But her body is heating at a healthy rate and she should have no pain from the cold."
Bastian blinked, "Water in the lungs?"
"Yes. It is common from the cold. Many people in Viskogorny catch it. The symptoms will be coughing and trembles."
Bastian nodded. "And what will she need for that."
"I will send Dana to administer a soothing balm."
Bastian nodded and was relieved to see the Hydrangea was now dressed in a thin nightgown. But at least she was clothed.
"Leave us." He waved his hand and the two Viskogornies left, bowing as they did.
He sighed in relief and relaxed his shoulders. He walked to where Hydrangea rested and placed his hand on her warm cheek, her mouth was parted open and her pale skin was flushed and unnaturally hot.
He sighed.
Looking round the room he saw no wardrobes or dressers, he would prefer to be out of the clothes he'd been wearing constantly for the past few weeks. He wandered to the antechamber that Dana had disappeared into and found a full closet and bath.
The bath was steaming and he peeked at the water. He remembered when he'd visited Viskogorny that they had heated baths, hot rocks were constantly placed in compartments in the bath to keep it warm.
Removing his clothes he stepped into the carven rock and relaxed.
He rested his head on the rim of the tub. As his body was relaxing, his mind now had time to ponder things.
What would he do now?
If he did not regain Cadarama… all would be lost. The Primals were dying. His brow furrowed, Cadarama would die with them. He could not let Cadarama die. He… he loved his country, and the people in it.
He went back in his mind to the journey that had taken over two months to complete across his country. And his heart both softened and pained when his thoughts arrived on Hydrangea's siblings.
All of them deserved to grow up in a country not filled with war and strife.
And if Lord Stone succeeded in marrying his daughter to the Sultan of Mathuba… all was lost. He had to get the Tzar to support them in this effort.
His mother.
His heart stopped when he remembered his mother. He had not even thought of her when it came to the scheme of things. She had always seemed so untouchable, The Beloved Queen. No one ever dared to speak ill of her, but the Mathubans would not care. To them she would just be another Cadaraman woman.
He felt overwhelmed with guilt for not thinking of how this would affect her. She'd always wanted him to be better, always seen the best in him. He had not even thought to ask the Premier for news of her.
He sighed. Maybe he hadn't changed.
He began to wash himself down, the cloth scrubbed away the dirt and grime that had built up over the past few weeks. He ran a damp hand through his hair, it was also rather filthy. He decided he would wash it later.
Stepping out of the warm water he found a towel and began to dry himself. A small smile drifted to his lips; he would never have even thought of drying himself before this entire journey began. How strange.
The smile grew to an abashed grin. So many things were so simple yet he had been so stubborn.
Shaking his head he found a robe and tied it around his waist, then stepped out of the antechamber.
He was going to save his country, he would find a way.