"Doctor," John called out to her, but she did not respond. "Doctor…" Still, there was no reply. John sighed for the hundredth time that day. She was the most stubborn person he had ever encountered, even more so than himself. Still he could not bring himself to be harsh to her; he sensed she was already at her limit. He knelt before her, ensuring she would meet his gaze. "Miss, are you listening?" he inquired gently.
"Yes, I am," she replied.
"I comprehend your purpose for being here and the request you wish to present to His Majesty. His Majesty is also aware," John stated in a measured tone. "I recognize the depth of your emotions. Arthur was a noble man, and I mourn his loss profoundly. I understand your sorrow and your resolve to do something meaningful for others afflicted with the plague as well, yet…." John sighed knowing his words were not reaching her. "You must realize that His Majesty will not permit you to depart. He holds you in high esteem, which is why he seeks to ensure your safety, albeit in his own manner. Please understand and stop this now. You're only hurting yourself here."
"Did I solicit his protection?" Mey retorted looking up at him at last. This was the first time she looked him in the eye during this whole conversation and he was taken a back at her directed gaze. John did not know what to say and struggled to formulate an acceptable answer for her. Moreso her closeness to him also rendered him speechless.
"He cares for me? So what? Am I to forsake all my aspirations in life, to confine myself within these walls merely to grant him peace of mind? I do not agree. I have a right to choose for myself," she stated, her voice chillingly cold.
"I concur with you but….," he stopped in the middle of the sentence. Nothing was going through to her. He knew that his soothing words would not sway her; she would relent only if her desires were met. Perhaps he was feeling unusually generous that evening, or perhaps it was her unwavering gaze that compelled him to propose an impulsive solution that he would have never suggested if he was behaving as usual. "I am to meet with His Majesty. I could grant you permission to accompany me. What say you? Come and present your case to him and change his mind." He extended his hand to her. She hesitated for a moment but took it eventually.
He was shocked by how cold her hand was. Her movements felt unstable, prompting him to be alert to her condition. He caught her as she began to falter upon standing. Supporting her by the arms, he offered her his arm to escort her. She accepted it, and they began their slow walk to the king's chambers.
The atmosphere was tense as they made their way. John was especially careful with his steps, slowing down further to match her pace. He felt his shoulders becoming tense and his every movement becoming embarrassingly awkward. Upon reaching the king's chamber, John turned to her and said softly, "Miss, please remain here. I shall return shortly to summon you, alright?" He awaited her response, and she nodded slowly. "Very well, I shall see you in a moment," he assured her, gesturing to the guard at the door, who opened it for him.
Mey remained outside, hoping to be called soon. Inside, John knelt on one knee, placing his right hand over his heart and lowering his head in deference. "To the Sun of Ceracuse, may your reign be long and prosperous. Your Majesty, it is a privilege to be in your radiant presence. I, John Alastair, announce my arrival."
"Rise," commanded the king. He was pleased to see his son, especially when he took the time to visit unexpectedly. The King was meant to be attended to by Mey, yet he had not summoned her today, aware of the situation surrounding her actions. The king knew what she wanted and resolutely refused to allow her to journey to Sereath. He had been avoiding her persistent efforts to change his mind, but now that Arthur had passed, he was certain Mey would not relent. There was nothing holding her back from leaving now. He didn't want that and deep down, he feared witnessing her hurt and disappointed with him.
"Child, how have you fared? What brings you here so suddenly? Are you here to offer solace to your father on this sorrowful day?"
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I hoped to alleviate your concerns, though I fear my words may cause offense today," John replied, his tone respectful yet firm.
"How could that be possible? Child, you have never caused me offense once in your whole life," the king remarked, a hint of surprise evident in his voice.
"That might change today," John said, moving toward the door. The king noticed a glint in his eye; something was amiss. However, before he could inquire further, John exited the chamber. Moments later, he re-entered.
"Child, you—" the king began, but his sentence was interrupted as he saw Mey entering behind him. His expression darkened.
"John!" he exclaimed sharply.
"I beseech your forgiveness, but I beg of you to hear her out," John insisted, stepping aside to allow Mey to approach the king.
The king was seething with indignation at the audacity of the two youngsters before him. Yet, as he looked at Mey's face, his fury diminished. Her expression mirrored the grim look he had seen on her when they had first met. He realized this was the expression he had long sought to avoid, yet his evasion had not erased the pain he had caused her.
"Your Majesty," she called feebly. Her fatigued demeanor pained him.
"Please, let me go to Sereath." Mey pleaded but suddenly her expression and tone changed markedly." No. You must let me go to Sereath,"