Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 242: The Private Physician

The Queen’s gaze settled on Kathryn like a weight. The physician stood still as she waited for the Queen’s words.

”You have done well,” the Queen said at last, her voice cool and measured. ”You may leave.”

Kathryn bowed deeply. She gathered her satchel with quiet efficiency, tucking away everything that had been brought out.

”Your Majesty,” she said, ”I shall need to return at a later time. The Princess requires continued treatment. I must prepare stronger medicine than what I have here. The infection in her feet will not respond to ordinary salves, and the scars on her back need more than a single application of herbs.”

The Queen inclined her head, a slow, deliberate movement that conveyed permission without warmth.

”See that you do.”

The maids moved to cover Lyria, pulling the blanket up to her chin, smoothing the fabric over her still form with trembling hands. Diana’s fingers shook as she tucked the edges beneath the mattress. Sally’s breath came in short, uneven gasps. Theresa kept her eyes fixed on her work, refusing to look at anyone else in the room.

Kathryn watched them for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she turned to leave, her satchel bumping against her hip, her worn shoes whispering against the polished floor. Her hand was on the door when Baron Redwick spoke.

”Would it be possible for Kathryn to be the Princess’s private physician?” he asked.

He turned from the wall. His spectacles caught the light as he faced the Queen directly.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed.

”What did you say?” she asked.

Baron Redwick bowed, his movements unhurried, his respect visible in every line of his posture.

”Every member of the royal family has a private physician,” he said, straightening. ”Surely Kathryn could serve as the Princess’s private physician. She has already examined Her Highness. She understands her condition. She has seen the wounds, the scars, the fever. There is no need for another physician to begin from the beginning when she already knows what ails the Princess.”

The Queen regarded him for a long moment.

”Kathryn has yet to prove herself,” she said.

Baron Redwick inclined his head.

”That is true,” he said. ”She has only just begun her examination. She has not yet demonstrated whether she can heal the Princess or merely describe her wounds. But if she does—if she proves herself capable—might it be possible for her to become the Princess’s private physician? The Princess clearly requires consistent medical attention. Her injuries did not appear overnight. Her malnutrition did not develop in a single day. She needs someone who will notice when she grows worse.”

”That remains to be decided,” the Queen said.

She paused, her gaze moving from the Baron to the Duke and back again.

”Now that matters have been resolved, you and the Duke may take your leave.”

Duke Valenridge did not acknowledge the Queen’s words.

”Your Grace,” the Queen said, her voice sharpening slightly, ”did you hear me?”

The Duke turned slowly.

”Honestly, Your Majesty,” he said, ”I find that matters have not been resolved.”

The Queen’s eye twitched.

”What, precisely, are you getting at?”

The Duke took a single step toward her.

”Do you intend,” he asked, ”to leave enemies around the daughter you claim to love?”

The Queen’s smile slipped fully, her eyes cold with anger toward the Duke.

”If you refer to the court, Your Grace, the Princess must learn to protect herself. Every person in a position of power has enemies. It is inevitable. One cannot go through life surrounded only by friends and allies. The world does not work that way.”

Duke Valenridge smiled, though it was without humour.

He moved close enough that Baron Redwick tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Close enough that the space between the Duke and the Queen became something charged and dangerous, a battlefield defined by inches.

”You know what I mean,” he said, his voice low.

The Queen said nothing.

”The maids who attend the Princess failed to care for her when she was clearly unwell,” the Duke continued. ”They failed to treat her injuries—injuries sustained, supposedly, from a teacup that fell from her hand. And yet none of them attempted to ensure she received proper care. None of them summoned a physician. None of them reported her condition to you, Your Majesty, until I forced the issue.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

”Surely, Your Majesty, you do not intend to leave such maids in her service.”

The Queen’s eye twitched again.

”That matter is not your concern,” she said.

The Duke bowed. It was a shallow bow, his gaze still fixed on the Queen’s face, his lips curved in a smile that did not reach his eyes.

”My apologies,” he said. ”I had forgotten that concern for another’s well-being is considered an overstep in the palace.”

”Matters of the palace are not your concern,” the Queen said through gritted teeth.

Duke Valenridge straightened.

”That is true,” he said, then added almost as an afterthought, ”Since everything has been resolved, I shall take my leave.”

He did not wait for a response.

He turned, crossed the chamber in a few swift strides, and walked out the door. The sound of his footsteps faded quickly into the corridor beyond, swallowed by the vastness of the palace.

The silence he left behind was heavier than his presence had been.

Baron Redwick stared at the door for a moment, his brow furrowed. The Duke had left abruptly, and for someone who had challenged the Queen, there was something off about it.

He adjusted his spectacles and then bowed to the Queen.

”Your Majesty,” he said.

Then he turned and followed.

---

The corridor beyond was empty at first glance. The wall sconces burned low, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Somewhere in the distance, a clock ticked, marking the passage of time that seemed to have slowed since the physician first entered the Princess’s chambers.

Baron Redwick looked left, then right, and caught a glimpse of dark fabric disappearing around the far corner. The Duke was moving quickly, walking with a purpose that bordered on urgency, his long legs eating up the distance.

The Baron frowned. What was going on? He followed after the Duke and, to his surprise, the Duke broke into a jog as if he were after something...

Baron Redwick’s eyes widened then.

Perhaps the Duke wasn’t after something but someone. He adjusted his spectacles, making sure no one followed, and then broke into a jog too.