Medicine | King Baldwin

7

After Isabel had conveyed the purpose of her arrival to the guards, she lingered outside King Baldwin's door for a brief spell, her fingers maintaining a rhythmic drumming upon the wooden tray cradled in her hands. With a deep inhalation, she delicately nudged the door ajar, unveiling the familiar suite before her gaze.

Once one of the guards closed the door behind her, Isabel proceeded with measured steps toward the center of the room, where she carefully set down the tray upon a sturdy table. Her eyes scanned the chamber, seeking the presence of the king, yet he was nowhere to be seen.

For a moment, she stood still, her thoughts drifting, until her gaze landed upon a chessboard neatly arranged on the table. The chess pieces, poised in their starting positions, awaited the beginning of a strategic duel. Among them, the queen stood out, her intricate carving a testament to the craftsmanship of its maker.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Isabel reached out her hand, lifting the queen from her designated square. She turned it over, admiring the fine details etched into the wood, evidence of the meticulous care with which it had been crafted.

"Do you like it?" The question emerged gracefully from Baldwin's lips, his figure shrouded in the dim light filtering through the chamber's window as he watched Isabel helding the wooden figure in her hands. Isabel's reaction was immediate, a subtle jump betraying her surprise at his sudden presence.

She turned towards him, her eyes widening slightly as they adjusted to the contrast between his silhouette and the surrounding shadows. There was an air of elegance about him, a quiet confidence that seemed to permeate the space around him.

"It's.. impressive." She replied, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and wariness in Baldwin's presence, his demeanor both captivating and enigmatic.

"Your Majesty." Isabel began, her tone respectful yet tinged with subtled warmth. "Surely you weren't expecting me." As she spoke, she inclined her head in a graceful bow.

The words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the unexpected nature of her presence in the king's chamber.

"Asif has entrusted me with your evening medical care from now on." she continued, her voice carrying a gentle cadence that seemed to fill the expanse of the room.

The scenario struck Baldwin as peculiar. Where he expected the brusque demeanor of Asif, he was confronted by Isabel's gentle presence, a stark contrast that left him momentarily unsettled. The thought of Isabel would perceiving the man behind the white veil and iron mask, made uncertainty washed over the King, clouding his thoughts with doubt.

As if she had a window into Baldwin's mind, Isabel's expression softened into a gentle smile before she spoke.

"Y-your Majesty." Her voice resonated with a gentle tone, breaking the silence that hung between them.

"If you are concerned that I might condemn you for any perceived imperfections, please know that such thoughts have no place in my heart." With a graceful motion, she lifted the tray from the table, her gaze meeting Baldwin's with unwavering sincerity.

"While doubts may linger regarding my intentions, Your Majesty, I want you to understand that my only desire is to help you." Her words held a depth of earnestness that echoed through the room.

Isabel's words enveloped the king in an unexpected warmth, a sensation he hadn't felt in the presence of a woman since his interactions with his own family members. This novel experience stirred a mix of emotions within him, a combination of comfort and unease. It was a vulnerability he hadn't anticipated, a vulnerability that made him feel exposed in a way he hadn't experienced before.

"F-fine." Baldwin responded, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as he shook himself from his momentary reverie.

"Please, take a seat on your bed, Your Majesty." Isabel gently instructed the King, gesturing towards the bed with a nod. As she settled onto the chair beside it, carefully placing the tray beside her, her gaze shifted to Baldwin's arms.

"May I?" she inquired softly, her voice carrying a gentle warmth as she indicated toward his arms, her tone respectful, seeking permission before proceeding further.

With a nod of consent, Baldwin allowed Isabel to proceed. As she gently lifted the sleeve of his robe, she revealed the King's arm, bearing the scars of both leprosy's cruel touch and the harsh realities of warfare. Each scar bore witness to the struggles Baldwin had faced, both against the ravages of disease and the tumult of conflict that had shaped his reign.

"Do you feel this, Your Majesty?" Isabel's voice was soft, her touch delicate as her finger traced along the moist wound, following its jagged path with gentle precision. Baldwin's gaze transfixed upon Isabel as he felt her soft, lingering touch upon his arm.

"I do." Baldwin replied, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath its regal façade. As Isabel, perceptive to his discomfort, withdrew her touch, she turned to him with a reassuring gaze.

"This is a positive sign, Your Majesty." Isabel responded, her voice laced with a sense of reassurance. "It indicates that the nerves in your hand are indeed functioning as they should." She said.

Isabel set to work cleaning the wounds on both of Baldwin's arms with a damp cloth. With gentle motions, she meticulously wiped away the grime and debris, revealing the raw skin beneath. For the deeper, more pronounced wounds, she applied milfoil, pressing the herb into the injured flesh to aid in contraction and healing.

Once the wounds were cleansed, Isabel coated them with a cream of her own making, carefully applying a generous layer to soothe and protect the damaged skin. With practiced skill, she wrapped fresh bandage around each hand, securing it in place to provide support and promote healing.

"Where did you learn all of this?" Baldwin inquired, his curiosity piqued as he observed Isabel's delicate hands moving with purpose and skill.

"My mother was a physician." Isabel began, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "She was the most talented healer I have ever known. Since I was a child, she taught me a great deal. Despite being a woman, she sadly had few opportunities to share her knowledge, so I carried on her legacy." As she spoke, Isabel's eyes reflected both admiration and sorrow for her mother. She had inherited not only her mother's skills but also her passion for healing, a legacy she carried with pride.

"Where is she now? She must be proud of you." the man asked curiously, his eyes reflecting genuine interest. Isabel's expression softened with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow as she delved into memories of the past.

"My mother is no longer with us." she responded softly, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "But I like to believe that she watches over me from above, guiding me with her wisdom and love." There was a quiet reverence in Isabel's words, a deep-seated respect for the woman who had shaped her into the healer she was today.

"I'm sorry.. it was foolish of me to inquire about such a sensitive matter." Baldwin responded with regret evident in his voice. Isabel placed her hand on the king's palm, offering a gentle squeeze as she looked up at him from behind her long eyelashes.

"There's no need for apologies, Your Majesty." Isabel replied with a faint smile, her voice carrying a gentle reassurance.

A sudden hush settled on them, broken only by the tentative sound of Isabel's voice. "Your Majesty, I've finished with your arms." she murmured, her gaze lifting to meet his.

Isabel continued, her voice gaining strength despite its slight tremor. "Th-the mask." she faltered, her words hesitant as she gestured towards the scars on his face.

Baldwin's chest tightened as he expelled the breath he had been holding. Isabel's presence offered a rare sense of reassurance in this vulnerable moment, her words echoing in his mind like a gentle refrain. With a steadying breath, Baldwin lowered his head, his fingers tentatively reaching for the edges of the mask that concealed his face. As the mask began to loosen beneath his touch, revealing the scars that marked his visage, Baldwin felt a strange sense of release wash over him.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he stood unmasked before another, apart from Asif, his true self laid bare for her to see.