cinder || dnf

chapter nineteen

Dr. Za held both hands toward a chair on the other side of his desk. "Please sit down. I only need to finish up a few notes, and then I will tell you some things I've learned since yesterday afternoon."

Dream sat down, glad to get off his weak legs. "The prince just..."

"Yes. I was standing right there." Dr. Za reclaimed his own seat and tapped at the screen in his desk.

Dream leaned back against the chair, gripping its arms to quell his shaking. His mind was replaying the conversation while his retina scanner informed him that his body was producing mass amounts of endorphins and he should try to calm down.

"What do you think he meant by his motives being based on self-preservation?"

"He probably doesn't want to be mauled by all the young ladies at the ball this year. You know there was nearly a stampede a couple years back."

Dream bit his lip. Out of all the options in the city, he was...

The most convenient.

He forced these words to resonate, to stick. He was here and he seemed to be sane and he was a safe bet for George to ask to the ball. That was all it could be.

Besides, George was in mourning. He wasn't thinking straight.

"Emperor Rikan is dead," Dream said, snatching for anything else to think about.

"Indeed. Prince George was close to his father, you know."

Dream lowered his gaze to the screen Dr. Za was hunched over. He could see only a small diagram of a human torso, surrounded by boxes of dense text. It did not appear to be him.

"I would be lying," Phil continued, "if I said that I had not harbored secret hopes of finding as antidote in time to save His Majesty, though I knew from the moment the diagnosis was made that it was unlikely. Nevertheless, we must proceed with our work."

Dream nodded in agreement, thinking of Drista's little hand gripping his. "Doctor, why haven't you told the prince about me? Don't you want him to know that you've found someone who's immune? Isn't that important?"

Phil pressed his lips, but he didn't look up at him. "Perhaps I should. But it would be his responsibility to share the news with the country, and I don't think we're ready to draw attention to this. When we have solid evidence that you are... as valuable as I hope, then we will share our news with the prince. And the world."

Dream picked up a portscreen stylus that was lying abandoned on the desk and examined it like a scientific mystery. Twirling it like a pinwheel over his fingers, he murmured, "You also didn't tell him I'm cyborg."

The doctor made eye contact now, his crow's-feet crinkling. "Ah. And that is what you're most concerned about?"

Before he could confirm or deny, Dr. Za waved his hand as if to dismiss his defensiveness. "Do you think I should tell him you're a cyborg? I will if you want me to. But I frankly didn't see that it was any of his business."

Dream dropped the stylus into his lap. "No, that isn't- I just-"

Phil snorted. He was laughing him.

Dream huffed in irritation and glared out the window. The city was almost blindingly bright in the morning sun. "Not like it matters. He'll find out eventually."

"Yes, I supposed he will. Especially if he continues to show, um, interest in you." Dr. Za pushed his chair back from the desk. "There. Your DNA sequencing has been completed. Shall we make our way to the lab room?"