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Chapter 11: 11. A Good Person

When Joseph opened his eyes, he was laying on his left side. The first thing he saw was his nightstand, and on top, all the clothes he had been wearing earlier at school precariously folded.

*Am I...home?*

The house was dark, save for the orange glare of the fireplace. There was the smell of carrots and potatoes, so there was someone cooking, too.

*Who?*

He became aware of his blankets, sheets, and pillows around him. Moving his head a bit and pushing his covers aside, he also saw that he was wearing his nightshirt. On his naked legs he noticed, close to his right heel, an ugly red and purple wound. There was a sort of dressing on it, the ointment soiling his sheets.

"Thank you so much, Mabel. Tell Father I'll take care of everything."

*That voice... Why is he here?*

*And who's Mabel?*

*It was a female name, for sure.*

*His girlfriend? Did he carry me home, put me in bed, and then his girlfriend helped care for me?*

When the young doctor raised his head, he was overcome by another wave of dizziness. He almost fell from the bed.

"Hey! Don't move." The prince held Joseph up, helping him to sit up a bit and lean against the pillows. He was wearing just trousers, and a ruffled shirt with a deep neckline, revealing his chest and abdominal muscles.

There was no sign of any “Mabel”, so perhaps she had gone already.

"Drink this." The prince offered Joseph a bowl with a dark green hot drink. It had an incredibly bitter taste, similar to scarlet eggplant tea.

But whatever it was, the doctor soon noted that his head wasn't quite so foggy and the wave of nausea was gone. He rubbed his eyes.

"What happened?"

"You fainted in the forest, so I brought you here and gave you aid."

"What about...that creature?"

The prince remained silent for a few instants, turning his face away.

"It's gone."

"How?"

"You just woke up and you’re already being a prick?"

"What is this injury on my leg?" the blonde boy said, moving the blanket and exposing the wound.

"It looks like a bite, and it hurts like a bite."

The prince stayed silent, avoiding Joseph's eyes.

"Was it that thing who did this?"

There was still no answer.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, SAY SOMETHING!

"Hey, calm down!" The prince held Joseph’s arms, resting his hands on his shoulders and staring him right in the eye again.

The doctor came back to his senses, remembering the other was a royal heir.

"I apologise...Your Highness..."

The prince sat on the bed, close to Joseph. He reached out and touched his face, slowly passing his fingers over his cheek and finding his chin.

"Sometimes, Doctor...the simple fact that you *know* about something is already enough to put you in danger..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you should rest for now." Joseph felt the prince’s fingers move from his chin to touch his chest, walking slowly down the bare area revealed by his nightshirt. His eyes were fixed on Joseph.

The young doctor swallowed, a thrill running through his body at the rough but gentle touch of the prince's hand on his skin. He felt his nipples go rigid when the prince’s fingertips travelled a little bit inside his nightshirt. His face was burning and he had trouble finding the right words.

*Control yourself! He doesn't even like men… And even if he did...you don't need to get yourself into the same trouble again, for God's sake!*

He noticed the prince staring at his chest, and he wanted to drown in the nearby frozen lake because he knew his hard nipples were very apparent against his nightshirt. The doctor crossed his arms over his chest, lowering his head, and the prince stood up and cleared his throat.

"Have you experienced any event today that made you sorrowful?"

*Many, including you leaving me standing in the hall...*

"Hmm... An old patient of mine is dying, and his relatives don't even bother to stay by his side."

Tariq kept staring at him, particularly at the top of his head.

*It's like he’s looking for lice in my hair...*

"I forbid you to take the crossroad path to reach your home, Dr. Selden."

"WHAT?!"

"I cannot be more clear. You're forbidden from taking that road."

Joseph frowned and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"That's the fastest way back from town! Do you really want me to circle around the cliff near the river? It’ll take me hours with all this snow!"

"I don't care."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU IMBECILE?!"

The glass in the windows trembled a bit when Joseph screamed. The prince’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, his eyebrows raised so much that wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

*Oh my God! What have I done?!*

Joseph covered his mouth, trembling, but it was too late. The doctor kept his eyes on his blankets; he didn't dare look at the prince.

But he soon felt something trying to claw its way out of his chest. The feeling of fear became, as one river meeting another, a feeling of untapped anger.

He raised his head and stared right into the prince’s eyes.

*I'm already dead, so...*

“How dare you…? How dare you stick your nose into my business and demand I walk around like a donkey? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

Joseph noticed the prince swallow hard, and this encouraged him. It was working.

“You have no idea what's happening in my life right now... A friend of mine is dying, alone. I have to scrape together fucking pocket change to pay for my studies and count on people's pity to get food! AND YOU, A FUCKING SLOANE WHO HAS EVERYTHING HE WANTS ON A SILVER PLATTER, WANT TO HAVE A SAY IN SOMETHING AS SMALL AS WHICH PATH I TAKE TO TOWN?!”

Joseph's throat was dry and he realised he was panting, but he continued.

“YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO ACKNOWLEDGE MY EXISTENCE WHEN YOU LEFT WITH THAT ASSHOLE TO GO TO THE DORMS! Do you really think he wants to be friends with you, huh?! THEY WILL NEVER, EVER, RESPECT YOU, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU PLAY THE 'DADDY' CARD! YOU SAW HOW THEY ARE, DAMMIT!”

It had been *years* since Joseph had had such an explosion. He was still a child.

His whole body was trembling.

The truth was...what had triggered his pain wasn't so much the misfortune of Mr. Brenner, or his material challenges... Or the idea of having to take the main road because the prince was afraid of that thing at the crossroads... Rather, it was the humiliation of having been replaced by an asshole like Filip Svoboda... And after all he had done.

"That day, at the tavern... I thought...you were a good person...Your Highness..."

The prince leaned against Joseph's desk, his hands heavy as he supported his weight on the wood.

That was when Joseph saw him do something he hadn’t done once since they met.

He lowered his head. The light in those falcon eyes faded as they sought the ground; they became the opaque eyes of an old, lonely wolf, searching for a cave to rest his bones for the winter.

"I'm very aware, Dr. Selden, that they shall never respect me... I have mirrors at home. I know *what* I am." He raised his left wrist, rubbing it with his right index and middle fingers, bringing attention to his skin colour. "In fact, that was the first thing my father said when he adopted me: never expect anyone to respect you for free."

Joseph swallowed, still frowning.

"That day, on New Year's Eve... I asked to share a table with three men. All of them refused, even though I was bleeding." The prince swallowed, putting his hands back on the desk. "So...it was quite astonishing to me when you accepted me so readily..."

Joseph raised his head, looking back at the prince.

"I can't help but wonder...if they would have treated me differently had I looked more like a local... But in the end, you were there, so...I thought....this fellow must be a really good person, because he was the first one who respected me...for free."

The doctor bit the inside of his lip, his chest growing heavy as the prince continued.

"I apologise for being rude earlier. I just didn't want to give them another reason to pick on you."

Joseph opened his mouth, but again, no sound came out. He just watched as the prince dressed, throwing the black college robe over his shoulders, and walked over to the door. He set down the house keys and a handful of thalers.

"This is for you to pay for a coach while you've got that lousy foot. I suppose you know better than I how to take care of your wounds, so have a good night."

He said this without looking at Joseph, and in this same way, he closed the door behind him.

Joseph stood up, limping over to the half door, but he was only able to hear a "Caw!" and the sounds of a horse trotting. The prince had taken another road, already out of his sight.

There was still something cooking on the stove. When the boy approached, he saw it was potatoes, carrots, and eggs in a soup. The vegetables were cut into large, irregular pieces, typical of hands not used to delicate manual labour.

*Heavy, rough hands...that can also be so tender...*

*********

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The house went silent, save for the ticking of the clock, which showed 9:42 p.m. Joseph sat in the chair near his desk. His journal rested in a corner, the pencil eager to register what he couldn't share with anyone else.

However, all he could do was let his face fall into his hands, his tears washing away the poison of his remorse.


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