Chapter 8
***
Hyperion nodded awkwardly.
"Yes, it is."
"What the hell is this drug?"
"A simple motion sickness pill. You're only supposed to take one drop, but I insisted on taking more."
Finberg asked urgently, arching an eyebrow.
"What, are you saying she overdosed on the medicine?"
"She took a couple more drops, but I wouldn't call that an overdose."
"Where is the child now?"
"She’s on the second floor; the maid is with her, so she'll probably wake up-"
Hyperion couldn't understand the crown prince's reaction.
He was no expert in medicine or pharmaceuticals, but he knew that motion sickness pills were simply a type of sleeping pill. How could he be so surprised that someone would take a motion sickness pill and sleep?
That was the moment.
The maid from the second floor came running down the stairs, her face flushed.
"Lord, master!"
Hyperion, about to rebuke the maid's alarmed voice, paused.
It was none other than Lynette's maid who had rushed over.
"What is it?"
The maid said urgently, tugging at her apron.
"My lady, my lady, she’s not right......!"
Finberg was the first to react to the maid's cry.
As he ran up the stairs, the buzz of the ballroom slowly subsided.
"What's going on?"
Ignoring the chatter, Hyperion hurried up the stairs after the Crown Prince.
"What has happened to the Crown Prince?"
"He didn't look too happy."
"I wonder if something is bothering him......."
Argos, who had been sipping his drink until then, ran a hand through his hair lazily.
"One would think he was a son of the house."
He mocked, but kept his gaze fixed on the stairs.
The people soon forgot the absence of the lord and prince.
Thanks to a moderate dose of alcohol and the sound of a three-quarter time dance. The banquet hall was again filled with the sound of music and words.
Argos picked up a fresh goblet full of ale and made his way slowly to the stairs.
***
Finnberg's face was grim as he surveyed Lynette's condition. The girl was blushing and breathing heavily.
"Oh no."
He said to Hyperion as he took off his jacket.
"What kind of motion sickness pills did Lynette take?"
"The motion sickness pills, that is......."
While Hyperion rambled on, Riley, the maid, rummaged through a drawer and brought out a vial.
"The lady brought this with her this morning."
Meanwhile, Lynette's mother, Lilyburn, and grandfather, Mersamu, came upstairs.
When Lilyburn saw Lynette lying there, she jumped into bed, her lips blue.
"Lily!"
Finberg's expression was not good as he took the vial.
"Your Highness, is this the wrong pill?"
Finberg rubbed his face and opened his mouth.
"Creotra was originally a disinfectant used to preserve railroad sleepers and ship's timbers."
"......? A disinfectant?"
"In small doses, it has a similar effect to sleeping pills, so it's also used for motion sickness, but if you take too much."
"Ooh, my Lily drank disinfectant?"
As if she had just heard something she couldn't believe, Lilyburn sank to the floor.
"Calm down, ma'am."
Lilyburn cried out, and Hyperion grabbed her.
Mersamu calmly walked over and turned to the crown prince.
"Your Highness, do you know what to do now?"
"Her fever is not a good sign. First of all-"
Finberg rolled up his sleeves. With the sound of thudding footsteps, someone appeared in the doorway.
It was Argos.
He cleared his throat, peered inside, and spoke deeply.
"I think we should call a doctor first."
Finberg replied, not looking back at Argos.
"It's getting late, and something could go wrong with the child before the doctor gets here."
"I see, so you'll be attending to her yourself."
Argos took a sip of his drink and let out a low chuckle.
"But....... it's not like you're a real doctor."
"What?"
"You don't even have a specialty, and you've only ever licked the pages of medical books in the name of being special."
At the word, Finberg stopped moving.
He slowly turned his head to stare into Argos's contorted face. Argos stuck his tongue out playfully as his icy gaze bore into his.
Argos stretched out a finger, pointed to the floor, and spoke aloud.
"Now, in case you've all forgotten, there must be a doctor in that chicken coop of a ballroom, for here we are, you,
me, Argos Pad Pero."
"...."
“The merciful lord is having a banquet and has even invited a damn butcher, so wouldn’t there be a doctor?”
At Argos's words, Hyperion glared at the maid, who quickly scurried downstairs.
Only Lynette's ragged breathing echoed in the room. Finberg stared at Argos with sunken eyes, then slowly relaxed his expression.
"I thought you lived mindlessly, but I see you do think sometimes."
"Whatever, I am the Prince of Canturnis by birthright."
Finberg rolled his eyes, smiled, and spoke loftily.
"Yes, though I do not know for how long."
"Ha, I didn't realize my gracious brother had such wicked thoughts."
"Well, I'm glad you know now."
Hyperion suddenly understood Mersamu's sigh.
His daughter was in critical condition, his wife was on the verge of fainting, and the princes were at each other’s throats.
‘What the hell is going on!’
His head felt like it was going to explode with confusion.
"Ha, where is the patient?"
Just then, a large man staggered into the room. It was Angelman, the Trokan's only doctor.
Drunk beyond recognition, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow, then spotted the crown prince and ruffled his hair.
"Oh, Your Highness."
Argos, leaning against the wall, muttered, his pinky finger touching his earlobe.
"Looks like he's going to die before he can attend to anyone else."
Finberg, looking equally dubious, peered into the man's medical bag and asked.
"Are you the doctor?"
"Uh, yes, of course. I'm Dr. Angelman McCabe. Proud member of the McCabe family, barbers for generations-"
"Never mind, hurry up."
"Yes, I apologize. Your Highness."
He buttoned his shirt up to just below his neck, and it was so tight that the flesh at the nape of his neck looked like it might pop out with every exhale.
"He might asphyxiate before he gets to her.”
As Argos spat out the arsenic, Angelman drew in a sharp breath and spread the medical bag he'd brought to his side.
He pulled out a sharpened scalpel.
Watching him, Finberg asked in surprise.
"What are you doing with a scalpel?"
Engelmann replied, dipping the scalpel in and out of a vial of carbolic acid.
"Phlebotomy, Your Highness."
"What?"
Finberg sounded angry for the first time.
Then only Angelmann flinched visibly.
He must have thought Finberg didn't understand, because he began to stutter.
"Uh, do you want me to explain how to draw blood?"
"Picking up a scalpel without even checking the patient's condition? That's called phlebotomy?"
"Oh, I was told on the way up. They said she was poisoned with….. Motion sickness pills, is that right?"
Angelman stammered, and the maid standing behind him nodded.
"I told you."
But Finberg turned back to the doctor, his expression unchanged.
"She’s poisoned, and what are you going to do with a phlebotomy?"
Finberg had to hold back the irritation that threatened to rise.
He was naturally interested in science and medicine.
He chose medicine as a specialty because of his particular beliefs.
Though he never said it out loud, he favored logic over theology and believed that the only way to strengthen the kingdom was to strengthen the basic sciences.
"Blood, you must draw blood, my lord, that's the only way to cure poisoning, draw out the dead blood and ah, the lady will be at ease in no time."
Finberg let out a long sigh and glared toward where Argos stood.
Argos merely shrugged, his face impassive.
'Who would have thought he was a doctor,' was the unspoken plea.
Then he spoke in a deep voice.
"I think those stupid buttons are making it hard for you to talk, so why don't you take one off?"
"What?"
Finberg said to Angelma as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Do you happen to have any antidotes or herbs in your bag?"
"Yes, ha, but I'm not very organized."
As he rambled on, Finberg, unable to hold back any longer, pulled Angelman's medical bag toward him.
Angelman's eyes widened in surprise, but Finberg was already rifling through it.
Luckily, it was filled with dried herbs and small vials.
It was as disorganized as he'd said, but there seemed to be plenty of them.
Finberg's face lit up as he rubbed his hands together and sniffed the dried stuff.
He had found the right herb for detoxification.
He turned and shouted to the cowering masses.
"Get some hot water, towels, and linen."
***
To donate for extra chapters for my series or to tip me visit my personal kofi page
Join my discord to get notifications for updates https://discord.gg/MKWnASzDFB
(If the link is expired, message me for a new link)
Write a comment
Helen (Wednesday, 21 February 2024 19:09)
I love the details about the doctor. Back in those days, doctors or actually “surgeons” were really barbers. And phlebotomy was a common practice used to “release” toxins from the body although it usually led to the person dying from bleeding out lol