A Princess Named Harry: Book 2

Chapter 56

Briar watched over Harry. It had now been twelve days since the operation, and she still hadn't woken up yet.

Briar was stumped. He was renowned as a genius doctor, but now he was thinking otherwise. He stared at Harry wondering what she was going through.

He called to her softly, "You're keeping everyone waiting, Princess."

He watched as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. He gently wiped them away with his finger. "I wonder what makes you cry so sadly?"

"Briar!"

He turned around to see Chloe. She had entered the tent with her clipboard in hand.

"How is she?" she asked worriedly.

Briar smiled and sat back in his chair. "The same more or less."

He watched Chloe scribble something down on her clipboard. Every time she asked him a question, and he answered, she would always write something down immediately afterwards.

"I've been meaning to ask you," he said while still eyeing the clipboard. "Why are you always writing things down on that?" Briar snorted, "I mean it's not as if you need to. You have a perfect memory, after all."

Chloe glared at him. "I write because I like to. There's no other reason than that." She fixed her glasses. "I could ask you the same question."

"Oh?" asked Briar. "And what's that?"

"Why do you always sell yourself short? You know that despite us both being called geniuses, you're on a completely different level from me. Did you forget what everyone calls you?"

Briar cringed. "Don't say that horrible nickname."

"The young genius doctor with hands of a God."

Briar cringed harder. "I told you not to say it."

Chloe shrugged. "You need to be reminded of who you are every now and then."

"I know who I am without you reminding me."

"If you say so."

They both turned to look at Harry. She was slowly regaining her color.

"Will she be able to pull through this?" Chloe asked.

Briar hesitated to respond. This was why he didn't like his nickname. "Hands of a God." Whenever he failed, it was twice the shame and disappointment for him. "I don't know; let's hope so."

•••

"What should we do now, Varian?" Harry asked as she twirled around in a beautiful white dress. "I have some time left before I need to get back to work."

"Work?" Varian laughed. "And what "work" are you going to be doing exactly?"

Harry laughed, "Oh, you know, the usual. Cleaning, helping around the house, cooking, the usual."

Harry began to skip off, and Varian steadily began to follow her.

"Those are all things servants do, not a princess," he replied.

"Yes," she responded. "But if you remember, His Majesty gave me special permission."

"His Majesty," Varian called curiously. "Your father did?"

"Yes," Harry chirped. "I get to do what I usually do!"

After days of waiting and he'd finally get to hear the long-awaited answer to his question.

"What you usually do?" he chuckled. "What were you before? A servant or something?"

Harry stopped in her tracks and turned to Varian. "Promise you won't laugh at me when I tell you?"