Tales of Ridire: In Which The Crown Prince Almost Initiates His Own Demise
Here's another part to Frederick's story! I really hope you guys enjoy it!
Frederick Masterlist
A dash of a root here, a sprig of an herb there. Yes, in a few minutes Frederick would have a good base for his new concoction. He leaned over the workbench, taking a pipette and letting three drops of a diluted, golden sap fall into the glass bottle. He had found it growing on a tree he didn’t recognize. The plant hadn’t looked like anything native to Ridire, or any of its bordering regions. Bright green leaves that seemed to carry the sun in their veins, and bark that inexplicably sparkled in the dappled light, almost like someone had covered the tree in gold leaf.
Frederick guessed that it would have healing properties, but there was really only one way to find out for sure. He pulled up his sleeve with his teeth, then produced his dagger. A gift from his father, it had a sapphire encrusted into the pommel, and had the Highcrest’s signet engraved just below the hilt. Such a weapon was meant to protect and defend the crown prince; it certainly wasn’t intended to be wielded against him, especially by his own hand.
This was merely an experiment to explore methods of healing, so there was no need to make a deep cut yet. Frederick would just make a shallow graze and- ah! He winced as crimson beads ran in streams down his arm. Well, so much for shallow. No matter, it would be all the better to test the full extent of the golden sap. The dagger rested on the table with a dull thud.
Frederick took a clean pipette and sucked up the completed solution. He released a few droplets of his new potion onto his arm. Setting the instrument aside, he sat on his wooden stool and waited for any type of reaction. In his dominant hand he held a quill over an open, leather-bound journal, ready to take down his observations as they came.
Nothing yet.
Frederick blew the fringe out of his face. This was taking a lot longer than he thought it would.
Still nothing.
Frederick sighed. Had he really just put a mixture containing ordinary tree sap into an open wound?
Wait.
There was something… small, but noticeable, and worth documenting. A tingling in his forearm, almost like a shudder that only rippled through the cut itself.
Frederick scribbled notes down, the quill flying across the page and ink spattering on the worktable.
Perhaps he had been writing too fast. His handwriting was usually quite neat, but now it was indecipherable. The words on the parchment blurred and twisted before his eyes.
The tingling became more pronounced, almost like a faint burning now. Frederick held a hand to his head, dropping his quill in the process. A knock came at the door.
“Your highness?”
Frederick bumped his head on the underside of his worktable. He grunted from the impact. His head pulsed with pain for a lot longer than it should have.
“Yes?” he called.
“Queen Morgana requests your presence for luncheon.”
Frederick went to stand but fell back down as his legs failed to support him.
“Ah!”
“Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing!” Frederick lied.
“Prince Frederick…”
“I’ll be there in a minute!”
The door swung open. Frederick cursed, he thought he had locked it. The servant stood in the threshold and Frederick could just register a horrified gasp.
“Surely it isn’t that bad…” Frederick mumbled.
“Guards! Fetch the doctor!” the servant shouted.
“No, you don’t have to-,” Frederick tried to call out, “mm…”
He faceplanted onto the hardwood floor, picking up the scent of herbs and tree sap before his vision blackened and the sounds of the world faded away.
…
The first clue that Frederick hadn’t died was the sound of worried voices chattering over him.
“…At it again, I told… stop… reckless…”
Frederick was only picking up a few words at a time.
“…How did he manage…”
The second indication that Frederick was alive was the feeling of something hot and vaguely damp on his forehead. From what he understood, Heaven didn’t have such an extreme temperature, and the other location was a lot more dry.
Something cold made contact with his face, and the heat abated for a few moments. Against his wishes, a small whine of relief escaped him.
“…Waking up…”
No, no, he wasn’t waking up. Please. If he woke up, he’d have to endure a lecture. Couldn’t he go back to that veil between life and death for just a half hour more?
No such luck. Frederick’s eyes fluttered open. A feverish glaze overshadowed their usually brilliant blue hue.
“Frederick Highcrest.”
He winced, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Mother.”
“The doctors have been caring for you tirelessly,” Queen Morgana said, her usually gentle tone taking on a cold sternness, “how many times have we told you to practice caution with your blasted experiments!?”
“…I apologize-”
“As you should,” Morgana continued, “you are not some mere boy. You’re the crown prince of Ridire, and as such, you should be more careful with something as precious as your life!”
Morgana stood, crossing the room to speak with the head doctor. Sir Galiot strode in, arms folded across his chest.
“Why did you do it this time, Lad?” he asked.
He seemed disappointed, but not at all surprised.
“Galiot,” Frederick greeted.
He went to prop himself up, but he couldn’t feel his arm to do so. He glanced down, seeing the skin had been heavily bandaged.
“I suggest you stay down, Frederick,” Galiot huffed, “you’ve only been unconscious for two days.”
Two days!? Oh, his chances of getting out of this unscathed just dwindled to a very small number.
“…Does Father know?” Frederick asked in a small voice.
“Does he-!? Of course, he bloody knows!” Galiot shouted.
“I thought it had healing properties,” Frederick tried, “surely such a risk would be worth taking if-”
“Lad, I would advise you not to finish that sentence.”
Frederick’s mouth snapped shut.
Morgana came back to his bedside, followed by the head doctor and a couple of nurses. The doctor took hold of Frederick’s forearm, inspecting the bandages.
“What you found, your highness, seems to have been some kind of amplifier for wounds and maladies. A kind of poison, if you will. Applying to an open wound could have easily killed you.”
“I see,” Frederick said, “do you think the entire plant has the same properties, or could they be different? For instance, the leaves-”
“Frederick Highcrest!”
Frederick winced. That was the second time his full name had been used, and this time it was much worse, seeing as the speaker was his father.
“How many times must we do this song and dance?” King Hrethric fixed him with an armor-piercing stare, “why must you put the entire castle through such anguish? When are you going to learn-”
Hrethric’s voice had increased in volume until it abruptly halted into silence. He looked away, visibly composing himself. When he looked back at Frederick, his gaze softened just a bit. The king closed the distance between them and sat at his bedside.
“We thought we’d lost you this time,” he said, “don’t do this to us again.”
Frederick tried to sit up again, to at least be at somewhat eye-level with his father. Hrethric gently pushed him back down.
“We’re going to be clearing out your stores, again.”
“But-”
“There is no room for discussion. You have no need of such dangerous ingredients. Any ailment you have can be mended here, in the infirmary, by professionals.”
Arguing further would merely rekindle his father’s anger, so Frederick opted to remain silent. Hrethric sighed. He slid a hand under his son’s head, lifting it up to press his lips to his onyx-black hair. He lowered it back down against the pillows.
“You are going to be monitored for the remainder of the week,” Hrethric went on to say, “we’ll send for your books should you become bored.”
Boredom was not going to be an issue, which Frederick realized as his eyelids began to droop.
“The prince needs rest, your majesty,” the head doctor said quietly, “his ordeal is not quite over yet.”
“I understand,” Hrethric said.
He squeezed Frederick’s hand before rising. He and Morgana left the room, followed by Galiot. Frederick stared up at the ceiling and sighed. He drifted off just as the nurses started to draw the curtains shut.
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