The throne room is enormous, Tadashi finds, eyes on the black and orange carpet at his feet, embroidered with constellations and crescent moons, the high windows letting in long strands of yellow light. Four thrones sit at the end of the room, two of which are empty and the most decorated and important looking too occupied by the King and queen. Tadashi swallows. His heartbeat is going wild in his chest and his lungs felt constricted inside his ribcage. For all his courage from earlier, Tadashi was now nervous once again, but he couldn’t back down now. The two guards flanking him on either side, dressed from head to toe in silver metal, would make sure of that.
Soon, Tadashi and the guards reached the thrones, Tadashi’s eyes still fixed on the ground.
“What is your name?”, asked a gruff and deep voice. Tadashi inhaled deeply and fell onto his knees.
“Yamaguchi Tadashi, y-your majesties”, Tadashi spoke as loudly and clearly as he could, wincing at the small stutter.
“Yamaguchi Tadashi, do you think you can heal my son?”, the King asked and before Tadashi could even open his mouth to respond, he heard footsteps and knew, without looking even, that the King had gotten off his throne and was walking towards the window closest to the thrones.
“I think so, I can at least try…?”, he ended his response in a question, unsure of what the King wanted from his replies.
Tadashi felt as if he’d just been sucker-punched at the distasteful tone of the man.
He heard a soft sigh from the Queen and then an unexpected hand raised his chin.
His eyes met light brown and suddenly, Tadashi was face to face with the Queen.
“Don’t mind him, he’s… Distraught.”
Tadashi wanted to believe the short haired blond woman in front of him, she had a kind face, but he was still very much worried.
“Don’t comfort him. He hasn’t proven himself yet. Tell me, boy, do you know how many talented men and women I’ve had look at my son in the last week?”
Tadashi and the Queen were both looking at the King now. He had golden eyes and light brown hair mixed with greying strands mixed in. He was dressed in a brilliant black tunic with a striking red cape over the rather dark ensemble. Tadashi supposed he would look imposing to others, but to Tadashi, he just looked terrifying.
The King’s eyes narrowed as Tadashi shook his head, brown strands falling around his face. Tadashi didn’t raise his head again to gouge out the man’s reaction.
“Dozens, boy. Dozens of medics and physicians. Our own physician, the best in his line, couldn’t figure it out. What makes you think you have anything to offer?”, the voice was somber, bitter with worry and dark with superiority. Tadashi felt smaller than he’d ever felt. He wanted the Earth to swallow him whole, but he’d et his mind on a goal.
Tadashi clutched the sides of his robes.
“I may not be an expert-”
The King clicked his tongue again.
“-but I’ve studied plants my whole life. I’ve seen odd diseases spread to farmers and have treated them. I’ve never met someone who does what I do.”
His voice was more confident than how he felt and for that, Tadashi was grateful.
Silence reigned in the throne room, then slowly, as if disturbing the silence would bring about doom, the Queen spoke:
The incredulous tone with which the King responded made a shudder go through Tadashi’s entire body.
“Do you think I’ll let some botanist heal my son?! It is ridiculous, I’d be surprised if he did little more than make him smell nicer!”
Tadashi felt the slow prickles of fury gather inside his stomach. It was insulting, to be spoken to like this, but he understood how grief affected humans and he knew that, with the story he’d given, that’s all Tadashi had reduced himself to: a botanist.
“So he won’t make the situation any worse. Let us give him a chance, darling…?”
A heavy sigh that spoke of nights spent awake and of days of pacing uselessly, with only a sense of bone-deep tiredness as a companion, followed the Queen’s words.
“…Fine. Let us see what you hold up your sleeve, little botanist”, the words were spoken like a growl and Tadashi shivered to his core. They felt like a threat. The same feeling he’d had with Sugawara, the healer from Metle from earlier, as though he was as transparent as a window in front of eyes that seemed omniscient.
Soon enough, however, Tadashi was being led up a flight of stairs by the same guards and the Queen herself, her light blue dress flowing gently behind her, like waves upon dried earth, soothing the dryness.
“Your majesty, I-er…”, Tadashi cleared his throat, seeing the Queen turn around to face him, “I wanted to thank you, for, uhm, for earlier…”
An exhausted smile formed on her pale face and studied Tadashi:
“I would do anything for my son.”
‘Even break your husband’s rules and trust in you?’, he wanted to ask, but Tadashi valued his tongue. The queen, however, raised a hand to tug at a piece of blonde hair that had fallen from her elegant and yet simple hairstyle, doing this gesture as if it were a nervous habit, and then, with one last word, she brought Tadashi’s focus back to the severity of the situation at hand.
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