Chapter 15 - Give Blood
She turned back to Haron immediately, placing a finger beneath his nose. She could feel his breath against her hand, faint and slow.
But it was there.
That was enough.
He was still alive.
By the Sun, what were they apologising for?!
"He is still alive. Keep your apology and save my husband instead!" She yelled at them then her voice broke. "He cannot leave me. I just had him back!"
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Meryl rush into the hall. She was in her nightdress with a blanket wrapped around her. Her hair was messy.
She had not been sleeping. She must have been with the new guard lover she had.
Ismena wished she were in a state of mind to laugh at her. Wished she were in a state for her and Lowie to tease her.
"The cut was deep. The beast must have had poison in their claws."
The beast.
The image of the night creature flashed in Ismena's mind. His red eyes of rage and hatred, his wolf form of destructive presence, and the claw marks he had left behind on Haron's body.
Immediately, rage and hatred collided in her veins with a mad intensity.
That monster should have just died!
"The King has lost a lot of blood and the one in him is killing him. We could administer more medicine and herbs but—-"
Those words faded into the distance in her mind. She already knew the answer.
"He needs new blood," she concluded.
"It cannot be done," the Head Physician said. "It is too dangerous."
It was. She would know. But she rose to her feet nonetheless and beckoned to Meryl who rushed over to her immediately.
"Write to my father," her voice quivered, breaking her off. It would disrupt him. It would kill him, to know that she was doing this.
She was the apple of her father's eye.
But this was a necessity.
An emergency.
Besides, she could live.
There was still a chance.
She had to be optimistic for both of them.
"My Queen?" Meryl asked in a shaking voice. She was trembling as it was. The sight of blood always made her weak and terrified.
She shouldn't be here.
"Write to my father that my husband is sick and I will give him my blood."
"Your Majesty!" The physicians yelled and more tears streamed down Meryl's face.
"Please, don't do this!" She hugged her tightly. "You'll die! I don't want you to die."
Ismena fought the urge to wrap her arms around her. "Go. Now."
"No, please—-"
"It is an order!"
Meryl pulled away from her, sniffling.
"Your Majesty, you have children waiting for you. When you fall asleep, please—" she sniffled, and Isnena gritted her teeth to stop herself from crying, "please wake up."
Then she rushed out of the room, not looking back, not even once.
Her children. She already had plans for her children. If anything were to happen to her, Lowe was supposed to write to her father about them.
Ismena turned to the physicians, her face hard.
"Begin."
"We will not!" The Head Physician snapped. "Blood transfusion is far too dangerous. You might not know this about medicine but it is a very risky—-"
"Don't insult me, Healer. I know enough."
Something flashed in his eyes. "Then you must know that you could die. That he could die."
"He would die," she paused, letting her gaze shift to Haron who lay on the bed. His chest was rising and falling, a moment she could almost not detect. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away angrily. When she spoke again, her voice was hard. "If we leave him like this, he will die. Wouldn't he?"
They said nothing but that was the answer she needed.
He would.
"But if this is successful, then he could live."
"Your Majesty—" one of them said with reluctance.
She heaved a breath. "Then it is settled. Begin." She walked in the direction of the bed.
Haron's bed.
"If we do not do the transfusion, then only one will die." The head Physician said. His voice was one of wisdom, his years of loyal service to the royal family giving him ground to speak. "Ragma will still have a Queen. And as we have no heir yet, we must protect you in the war we can."
She turned around sharply to him.
"Ragma will have no Queen because I will throw myself down from the tallest window!" She snapped, trembling with rage. She had no time for this nonsense! She knew how risky it was and she was ready to do it nonetheless. Why were they standing in her way so much?
By the Sun, why were they so adamant!
Her husband was dying!
Her Haron!
"About the Heir, we do have a heir. One with the blood of Ragma. Stavan." The name tasted bitter on her tongue, but now was not the time. "When he returns, he can wear the crown. But I will not sit around, and do nothing but watch my husband die!" Her voice thundered across the room.
The physicians looked at one another, shifting their weight on their feet.
"Then we will— we will get a servant—-"
"No." She snapped. "I will take my own risk. No one has to lay their life for my husband when I can." Rage flashed in her eyes as her chest rose and fell. She rushed over to her husband. When she touched him this time, he was colder.
"We do not have time! Begin." Her voice thickened with authority. "I COMMAND YOU!"
This time, they obeyed.
In a flash, they prepared her for the process.
Soon enough she felt the needle pierce through her veins, felt the pull of blood and the pain of such a loss.
When her eyes slipped closed, she had no hopes of ever opening them again.
But at least, the last face she had seen before unconsciousness pulled her under, was Haron's.
He must live.