Episode-749
Chapter : 1497
Lloyd frowned. Usually, a King was never alone. There were always attendants, guards, tasters. But here, there was only the King.
"Leave us," the King commanded the Captain.
The Captain hesitated. "Sire, the Prince said—"
"I am the King!" Aurelius snapped. His voice was weak, but for a second, it held the crack of a whip. "Leave us! Or are you my jailer now, Captain?"
The Captain stiffened. He bowed stiffly. "As you command, Majesty. I will be... right outside."
The doors closed. Lloyd, Ken, and the King were alone.
Lloyd stood there, clutching his bag. He waited. He didn't bow immediately. He watched.
The King stared at the fire for a long moment. Then, slowly, painfully, he turned his head. His eyes, usually foggy and wandering, locked onto Lloyd’s.
And for the first time, Lloyd saw it. The fog cleared. The trembling stopped. The man in the chair straightened up, shedding the persona of the senile invalid like a heavy cloak.
"Drop the act, boy," King Aurelius said. His voice was raspy, but clear. Sharp. "I don't have much time before the medicine clouds my mind again. We need to talk."
Lloyd’s eyebrows shot up. He straightened his own posture, dropping the hunch of Doctor Zayn.
"Well," Lloyd said, a small smile playing on his lips. "It seems this palace is full of actors. Good evening, Your Majesty. I hear you have a headache."
The heavy doors clicked shut, sealing the room in a thick, suffocating silence broken only by the rhythmic tick-tock of the clocks and the crackle of the fireplace. The heat in the room was oppressive, a dry, dusty warmth that stuck to the back of the throat. It felt less like a royal chamber and more like a mausoleum for the living.
Lloyd Ferrum stood in the center of the room, his "Doctor Zayn" disguise still physically in place—the robes, the glasses, the dyed skin—but his demeanor had shifted. The nervous tremor was gone. He stood with the relaxed, balanced stance of a warrior.
King Aurelius watched him. The old man’s eyes were sharp, intelligent, and filled with a profound, terrifying desperation. He didn't look like a king who ruled a nation; he looked like a man holding onto a cliff edge by his fingernails.
"You are not a doctor," the King said. It wasn't a question. "No doctor walks into the Viper's Nest with a predator at his back." He glanced at Ken, who was standing in the shadows, silent and immobile.
"I am a healer of sorts," Lloyd replied calmly. "I fix things that are broken. And it seems, Majesty, that your house is very broken."
The King let out a dry, hacking laugh that turned into a cough. He reached for a glass of water with a shaking hand. He couldn't reach it.
Lloyd stepped forward. He picked up the glass and handed it to the King. He didn't bow. He offered it man-to-man.
Aurelius took it, his hands brushing Lloyd’s. "Thank you. My son... he prefers to keep me thirsty. He says it builds character."
"Your son is a diligent jailer," Lloyd observed.
"He is a monster," Aurelius hissed. The venom in his voice was shocking. "A monster I created. I let him take the reins when my wife died. I was... grieving. Weak. I thought he was helping. By the time I realized what he was doing, he had replaced my guards, bribed my ministers, and..."
He gestured to the table beside him, covered in vials of colorful liquids.
"And poisoned my tea," the King finished. "Alchemical sedatives. Confusion draughts. Just enough to keep me lucid enough to sign papers, but too weak to rule. Too weak to fight back."
"Why summon me?" Lloyd asked. "If he controls everything, this meeting is a risk."
"He thinks I am senile," Aurelius said. "He thinks I summoned you because I am a hypochondriac old fool who wants the miracle doctor to fix his aching joints. He allowed it because it amuses him. Because he thinks you are a charlatan who will fail."
The King leaned forward. The blankets slipped from his shoulders, revealing a frame that had once been powerful, now wasted away.
"But I saw you," Aurelius whispered. "In the garden. I saw how you looked at him. You didn't fear him. Everyone fears Cassius. Even his own generals. But you... you looked at him like he was a problem to be solved."
"He is a problem," Lloyd agreed.
Chapter : 1498
"He is killing her," the King said, his voice breaking. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over onto his wrinkled cheeks. "My Seraphina. My light. He is choking the life out of her. The binding... I know about it. I tried to stop it. He told me... he told me if I ever defied him, if I ever tried to take back my throne... he would tighten the noose. He would snap her mind like a twig."
The King began to weep openly, a sound of utter defeat.
"I am a hostage," he sobbed. "A King held hostage by his own blood. I sit here, drugged and useless, while he turns my kingdom into a slaughterhouse. While he hurts my little girl."
Lloyd watched the broken man. He felt a surge of pity, but he pushed it down. Pity was useless. He needed a strategy.
"You are not useless," Lloyd said sharply.
The King looked up, startled by the tone.
"You are alive," Lloyd said. "You are the King. You have the name. You have the seal. Cassius rules through you because he needs your legitimacy. He hasn't killed you yet because he fears the chaos of succession without your blessing."
Lloyd walked closer. He crouched down beside the chair.
"You want to save your daughter?" Lloyd asked.
"More than my life," Aurelius whispered. "More than my crown."
"Then stop crying," Lloyd commanded. "And listen to me. I am going to save her. I am going to break that binding. I am going to make her strong enough to stand on her own."
The King’s eyes widened. "You... you can?"
"I can," Lloyd said. "But I need something from you."
"Anything," the King said. "Gold? Titles? Land?"
"I don't want your gold," Lloyd said. "I want your protection."
"I have no power," Aurelius said bitterly.
"You have the power of protocol," Lloyd corrected. "You have the power of the Royal Word. Cassius plays a game of appearances. He pretends to be the dutiful son. He cannot openly defy a direct, public command from the King regarding his own health or his daughter's treatment without exposing his coup."
Lloyd stood up.
"I need access," Lloyd said. "Unlimited access to the Princess. No guards in the room. No time limits. And I need a Royal Warrant. A document, signed by you, declaring me the Personal Physician to the Royal Family. It makes me untouchable. If Cassius harms me, he harms the King's chosen healer. It makes my death a political disaster."
The King stared at him. The fog in his eyes was completely gone now, burned away by a spark of hope.
"You are playing a dangerous game, stranger," Aurelius said. "Cassius will hate you."
"Let him hate me," Lloyd shrugged. "He can get in line."
"If you do this..." the King said, his voice trembling. "If you save her... I will give you anything. I will give you the kingdom."
"Just the warrant," Lloyd said. He pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from his bag. He placed them on the table.
"Can you sign it?" Lloyd asked. "Can you hold the pen steady enough?"
Aurelius looked at his shaking hands. He looked at the paper. He looked at Lloyd.
He took a deep breath. He gritted his teeth. He grabbed the quill. He forced his hand to stop shaking through sheer willpower.
He signed. Aurelius. It was shaky, but legible.
He grabbed his signet ring from the table and pressed it into the wax.
"Done," the King gasped, dropping the quill. He slumped back, exhausted by the effort.
Lloyd took the parchment. He blew on the ink to dry it.
"Rest now, Majesty," Lloyd said gently. "Go back to sleep. Be the confused old man. Let Cassius think he has won."
He tucked the warrant into his robe.
"When you wake up," Lloyd whispered, "your daughter will be a little stronger. And the nightmare will be a little closer to ending."
The King closed his eyes. A faint smile touched his lips. "Thank you... whoever you are."
"Just a doctor," Lloyd said.
He signaled Ken. They walked to the door. Lloyd composed his face, bringing back the nervous twitch, the hunched shoulders.
He opened the door. The Captain was waiting.
"Is he dead?" the Captain asked boredly.
"He is resting," Lloyd squeaked. "Poor man. He just wanted to talk about his aching knees. Very sad. Old age is a tragedy."
He waved the parchment. "Oh, and he insisted I take over his care. And the Princess's. Said I have 'gentle hands'. Very insistent."