Chapter 56: The Trouble with Getting a Checkup

The small parlor went quiet. Even Lioren, who usually had something to say about everything, held his tongue.

Lioren watched Xavion’s thumb resting against the edge of his eyepatch. At first, he simply waited, assuming the former general just needed a moment to brace himself, a brief internal adjustment before lowering a wall he had kept bolted shut for years. But as the seconds passed, Xavion’s shoulders remained rigid, and his fingers stayed motionless against the eyepatch.

Okay... This wasn’t just ordinary reluctance.

Lioren didn’t know what Xavion was thinking, and he wasn’t going to pretend he did. But he could see how tense Xavion had become, as if he were forcing himself to do something he wasn’t ready for simply because he’d already agreed to it.

So Lioren stepped in.

He simply stood up from his seat and crossed the small distance between them, stopping beside Xavion’s chair. For a moment, he said nothing, giving Xavion his full attention without reaching for him or the eyepatch.

"Are you alright?" Lioren asked softly.

Xavion didn’t immediately lower his hand from the strap. His jaw remained set tight, his single eye staring ahead as he drew in a slow, controlled breath through his nose.

"I am fine."

Except he clearly wasn’t.

Lioren narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing the tension in Xavion’s neck and the slight tremor in his fingers. Fine, my eye, Lioren thought bitterly. The man looked as though he were standing on a scaffold awaiting the drop, forcing himself to go through with it purely out of some deeply ingrained military discipline.

Lioren’s mind immediately went into overdrive. Was Xavion embarrassed about his eye? Did he hate the idea of a stranger examining an old injury? Or was Lioren missing something obvious again? Because, frankly, his ability to read Xavion was about as reliable as a weather forecast made by a chicken.

Whatever the reason, Xavion clearly wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Lioren didn’t need to understand why to know he shouldn’t push.

"You don’t have to, Your Highness."

Xavion blinked, his eye lifting to meet Lioren’s gaze.

"You don’t have to take it off," Lioren repeated. "We can proceed however you’re comfortable. There is no force here. Nobody is going to rip it off your face. If Fane here needs to check your pulse, your reflexes, or the outer bone structure without you having to remove the eyepatch, then that is precisely what we are going to do."

Master Fane blinked behind his spectacles, clearing his throat with a dry cough. He slowly lowered the brass lamp back onto his medicine bag, his old eyes shifting thoughtfully between the Grand Duke and the Ostharian prince.

"Well," the physician murmured, adjusting his silver spectacles on the bridge of his nose. "Naturally, I cannot..."

Lioren glared at him, a brief, blistering look of warning that promised severe consequences if the physician pushed any further.

The physician paused.

"But there are still several things I can check without removing the eyepatch," he added hastily.

Xavion lowered his hand from the eyepatch, and some of the tension left his shoulders. He let out a breath and gave the physician a grateful look. Lioren noticed the change immediately.

"Thank you," Xavion said quietly.

For the next twenty minutes, the examination continued without further interruption.

The physician proceeded with the examination as far as Xavion was comfortable allowing. He gently felt along the cheekbone, checked Xavion’s pulse, and asked a series of questions about his sleep, diet, and the exact nature of the recent pain. Xavion answered each question clearly and concisely, offering only the information necessary to address his symptoms.

"If I may ask, Your Highness... what exactly transpired with the eye itself when the injury occurred?" the old physician asked. "Understanding the precise nature of the trauma helps us gauge the underlying nerve pathways."

Xavion’s expression didn’t change.

"It’s much as the rumors have probably already told you," Xavion said quietly. "I was attacked with a poison that damaged my right eye. My eyesight was lost completely from that moment on."

"And do you happen to know what specific poison was used, Your Highness?" Master Fane asked.

Xavion paused, his gaze dropping briefly to the rug before returning to the old physician. "It was never identified."

He paused, his chest rising in a slow, measured breath before continuing. "Since then, the area occasionally throbs, but most of the time, there is no sensation at all. It simply sits cold."

Master Fane leaned forward slightly, his expression turning thoughtful. "Apart from the sudden pain, have you noticed anything else? A burning sensation, any loss of feeling around the wound, or strange flashes of light in your remaining eye?"

Xavion shook his head once. "Not really."

When the examination was over, Master Fane began packing his instruments into his bag. He stood up, smoothing down his grey tunic before looking directly at Lioren, who was hovering barely two feet away like an overly protective guard dog.

"Well, Your Grace, Prince Xavion. His Highness’s pulse is steady, and I haven’t found any other immediate signs of concern. He appears to be in stable condition at present," the old physician said, gathering his things. "But without the proper examination of the eye itself, I can only offer a few possibilities. The pain could be caused by lingering damage from the poison, or by something that never fully healed. I cannot say for certain without seeing the affected area, and I would rather not make assumptions about an injury I haven’t examined."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, round clay jar sealed with yellow wax, setting it carefully on the side table.

"In the meantime, I can prescribe a mild tonic to help ease the discomfort when it begins. It won’t repair the damage, and I can’t promise it will prevent another episode. Its purpose is simply to make the pain more manageable while we look into the underlying cause. Beyond that, I recommend avoiding overexertion, getting adequate sleep, and keeping track of how frequently these episodes occur. If they worsen or begin lasting longer, we must reconsider our options."

Lioren nodded along, paying close attention to every word. He mentally filed away each instruction. If Xavion wouldn’t take his own health seriously, then Lioren would just have to remember enough for both of them.

"And," Master Fane added, "it would be exceptionally helpful to obtain his previous medical records from whoever had been responsible for treating him in Ostharia. Those records may tell us more about the original injury, previous examinations, treatments, and any changes in his condition over the years."

"Understood," Lioren said quickly. "Thank you, Fane."

Master Fane bowed before taking his leave, closing the door quietly behind him.

Once they were alone again, Lioren tried very hard not to hover over Xavion like an anxious, overly caffeinated mother hen.

He failed, naturally.

The absolute second the door clicked shut, Lioren leaned down slightly toward Xavion, his eyes scanning the prince’s face as if looking for hidden fractures. "How are you feeling? Did he press too hard on your jaw? Do you need water? Should I have the kitchen brew that tonic right this second?"

Xavion let out a soft, dry chuckle, a sound that had more real amusement in it than Lioren had heard all day. "I am entirely fine, Your Grace. Master Fane was examining me, not trying to crack my skull open."

"Still! You never know with old doctors, they think every ailment can be cured by bleeding a man or making him drink foul-tasting roots," Lioren muttered, though the frantic, ragged edge in his voice had finally smoothed down into something warm and manageable.

A strange wave of relief washed over Lioren, even though the examination had yielded far fewer answers than he’d hoped for.

Xavion appeared to be stable, and there had been no immediate cause for alarm. That was good. That was genuinely good. Lioren would happily take that much over the alternative, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, they still had no clear explanation for why Xavion’s eye was troubling him. The tonic might ease the pain when it returned, but it wouldn’t tell them what was causing it, and Lioren had no intention of simply waiting around for another episode before doing something about it.

He crossed his arms and glanced toward the door through which Master Fane had disappeared. The physician had mentioned the medical records from Ostharia, and that was where they needed to start. Whoever had treated Xavion after the original injury might have recorded something that could help them understand what was happening now. Even if the records didn’t hold the answer, they were worth obtaining.

Xavion could insist he was perfectly fine until he was blue in the face. Lioren wasn’t going to argue with him about how he felt, nor was he going to force him into anything he didn’t want.

No matter.

Lioren had a plan.

The details could be sorted out later.