Page 81 of Heart of Snow
He didn’t know what love was.
True love meant a willingness to sacrifice anything, even your very life to protect those you hold dear.
And he’d just told me he could save Samuel. Hewouldsave Samuel.
How much did I love my brother? Was I really willing to sacrifice anything to save him?
Footsteps echoing up the stairs made us separate, but Felipe gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go.
“What do you think, Vesalius?” he asked the physician.
“It’s not good. Not good.” Vesalius shook his head at the ground. “An advanced case of pneumonia.”
“But what can be done?” I asked. “How will he be treated?”
“Given permission”—Vesalius glanced at Felipe—“I could administer more tobacco water, maybe do some bloodletting, but I’m not certain how much it would help. Without a change of location, I fear his time is short. A few weeks. Maybe a month.”
My sharp intake of breath drew the eyes of both men. “Weeks?”
“Do not worry,” Felipe soothed. “You can get him the help he needs.”
Vesalius looked back and forth between us but said nothing.
“I wish to bid him farewell.” I started down the steps, but the physician stopped me.
“He is at rest now. Sleep is vital.”
I nodded, working to swallow the tight ache in my throat as we moved outside the short doors and back into the palace corridor.
“It will be supper soon, and I must change.” Felipe took my hand, pressing something cold and hard into my palm as he whispered in my ear, “It’s a copy of Thieuloye’s key. Whenever you’ve a mind for escape, I’ll await you in my chambers.” He gave my earlobe a quick kiss, then turned to Vesalius. “See her to her rooms.”
My hand curled around the key, and I bowed as the prince departed down the corridor.
“Shall we?” Vesalius motioned me forward, allowing me to take the lead out of the corridor and back into the arcade.
We walked in silence, my head roiling with half-thoughts and internal arguments. Beside me the physician snapped once or twice as though he would speak but seemed to think better of it and remained silent. The snapping became a humorous distraction, and I found myself actually smiling when I asked, “How are your rats?”
“Hmm? Oh, the rats. Well, yes, they’re mostly very dead. All dead now, though the strangest thing happened with rat number four. When I’d left my room the other night, he lay dead on the table beside the others, but the next morning when I returned, his tiny squeaks caught my attention. He was breathing, and his body trembled. He’d even revived enough to move his limbs. Now I’m wondering if he had been sustained with food or kept warm by a fire or blanket, would he have lived?” He rubbed a hand over his beard.
“You mean he’s dead again?”
“Oh yes, quite. I threw him out the window with the others. But it reminded me of the stories I’d heard from the emperor’s Spanish sailors to the New World. Stories of people, dead and buried, who came back to life, stumbling into their homes wearing their burial clothes. Maybe they, and my rat, weren’t truly dead but in a stupor. A sleep or paralysis that, if I couldlearn to manage, would allow my surgery patients to undergo painless operations. No more brandy or biting sticks.”
“You are quite different from the barber-surgeon of my village. When his patients complain of pain, he blames them for being weak, yelling over their screams and demanding they calm their hysterics.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that before. It’s guilty work putting someone through agony, especially if the chance of helping isn’t as great as we hope. But we do want the best for our patients. Physicians go into this work because they wish to help.”
I smiled at him, and we resumed our silent walk, the weight of my worries again falling heavy on me when another round of his snapping caught my attention.
“I’m very sorry about your brother,Comitissa.”
I nodded my gratitude for his sympathy.
“I would help you, if you ever needed it.”
“Help me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve traveled the courts with the Habsburgs for many years. I know the prince. He’s used to getting his way no matter the means, and though it must pain you to hear it, your brother’s life will soon be beyond saving. Yours is not.” He set a hand on my elbow, stopping me in my walk and prompting me to face him. “Truly, I will aid you in any way I can.”
