Dmitiro was sitting by the table in the immaculate pantry, a tankard of water in his paws. Ruminating about the reign of his King and Queen, he stared broodingly into the dregs of his drink.
He felt cold fury wash over him. "One day... just they wait until one day they will... meet their fate. For putting my brother into prison, just they wait till one day they will get what they deserve" his speech was incoherent with loathing as he threw aside his paw and caused the drink and tankard to fall to the floor. Hardly noticing the sound, he drew forth a dagger and stabbed at the pine wood table multiple times, finding relief in the violent action whilst his troubled mind turmoiled over the loss of his brother who was cast into prison for the suspected murder of a creature. Dmitiro knew that his brother was being used as a scapegoat by the King and Queen and this turned him sick and white with pure hatred of the royals. How could they dare to mistreat an innocent creature? How could they? He buried his blade into the wood, gnashing his teeth and trembling from the effort.
There was a patter of footsteps and the Royal surgeon barely had time to make himself look composed as Raldinya staggered in, supporting the limp form of Aramina Raresheen who barely had her eyes open.
"Dmitiro, please... Huff... Could you... help Aramina? She is... hurt and... barely awake...puff...I believe that... her father did this to her... she... told me along... the way..." The cook was all in a dither and with her last strength managed to place the Raresheen squirrel into a chair before she backed into a wall and breathed heavily after her long walk with the combined weight of the princess. Truth to tell, Aramina was not all that heavy but the kind hearted cook was not all that fit. It was a mark of her loyalty as she helped the injured Raresheen.
Aramina managed to support herself and remain straight though it was clear that the pain in her arm was liable to make her faint soon. Her unfocused eyes were fixed firmly on the table and her frame was trembling with the effort of not falling senseless from her agony.
Unhurried and professional as he was, Dmitiro was horrified by the revelation that her own father had done this to Aramina. That scum could stoop so low! He thought bitterly whilst opening his healing bag to suffice the injury with bandages. After taking out what he was looking for, the surgeon proceeded to expertly make a sling for Aramina's injured arm so that she would not move it unwittingly.
"I think it best, my dear, if you go to your chambers now. If you don't mind me saying, it is... awful of your parents to do such a thing to their own daughter but don't mention what I said to anyone else. For now, you need rest and try not to rub your parents fur the wrong way up as stress and more injuries are not what you need now" he told the Raresheen squirrel gently; though his heart blazed in fury at the Royals as he tried to make Aramina drink water with a solution of poppy in it to ease the pain. Aramina drunk a few sips before rising unsteadily to her feet.
She thanked the surgeon profusely "My thanks to you Dmitiro. It is good to have you here for you are the most skilled and kindly surgeon that I have ever had the honour of knowing" she bowed her head with a sad look in her compassionate eyes that were so liable to change to coldness. "I am also sorry for your brother. It was an evil thing to put him into prison. Please understand that I tried to talk my parents into sanity but they are deaf to all that. But again, I thank... you for your... help..." She wavered as the effort of talking took its toll on her. Raldinya hurried to the Raresheen's side and supported the squirrel as she swayed.
"And... thank you too" Aramina told the cook faintly. "Please... Would you... help me to... my chamber..?" Raldinya nodded and replied "But of course my dear!" And with that she helped Aramina out of the room and through the many corridors and halls that led to the princesse's chamber.
Dmitiro felt a lump in his throat. What good creatures his brother and Aramina are. Where was his brother now? Alone, cold, sad...or dying? A knife had been stabbed into the surgeons heart. He had trusted the King and Queen and now they had cast his brother into prison for a crime he did not commit. Yes, the surgeon squirrel was skilled when it came to mending physical maladies but when it came to the healing of the heart...the poor creature was lost.
A single tear ran down his cheek and waned in the flickering candlelight.