July 17th, 1622

1 a.m. at the time of record-keeping

Something strange just happened. I do not usually write this late, but I must record what has just transpired as proof that I did not dream it. As I have previously mentioned, his presence on the Moon is vague. One’s holy ghost may be weaved into the spiritual web that connects us all and still not attend mass. It would be the same as being in a school building without entering a classroom. In his case, since he is so distant, it would be as if he stood just past the entrance doors.

He was present for check ins. Even though his soul was at peace and did not need any soothing, I still gave him the spiritual equivalent of a kiss on the forehead. I just wished to connect with him. Then, a strange feeling tied my stomach in knots, so nauseating that I nearly revisited dinner. I performed a quick cleanse on myself and the feeling was gone. I had never experienced anything so insidious before.

Not five minutes later, there came a knock on my door, followed by the prince’s voice. It was the first time that I had heard him so quiet; his voice is naturally quite deep and resonant. The other day—when we were alone in my bedchamber—did not even cross my mind as I went over to open the door; I was so intrigued. He stood in total darkness; the only source of light that we had was the lone candle that I had brought with me. His eyes were wide and manic. He seemed agitated.

“I can feel you,” he told me, “on the Moon. I felt you during checks.”

“Really?” So it was not true that he was unable to feel anyone at all. “Did you feel anyone else? Daughter Angela?”

“No.” His voice grew quieter. “You blessed me, did you not? I felt that you blessed me.”

I had not. “I loved you,” I corrected him. Then, as an afterthought, because I only then realized how that sounded, I quickly added: “I gave you affection. You felt caressed, did you not? Your soul, I mean. Your soul was caressed. Well, that is what it is called.”

“Affection…” he whispered. “Well, I sent you something else, then. I thought that I was returning the favor. Did you feel it?”

Just before saying no, I remembered that terrible nausea. How had he sent me such an awful gesture when he had been trying to love me back?

“I did,” I replied. Reaching for him, I uttered a brief “excuse me” and touched his forehead. His entire soul beamed for me. Healthy souls are bright and clear, while his was matted and muddy. I had trouble seeing through it. I ran two fingers down his neck next, right over his Adam’s apple, looking for any blockages in his throat, but there were none. Finally, I lay a palm flat over his chest and saw that nearly all the holy water that I had given him was gone. That was utterly shocking; any healthy vessel would have easily preserved it for at least a week or two. Something inside him is suffocating the light. The Devil promptly came to mind.

“Did you just run diagnostics on me?” he asked.

“Yes. Forgive me; I… do not understand what is going on with you. Have you prayed since the blessing?”

“I prayed tonight. Uh, just now.” His face colored. I did not catch that at first, noticing it only when he cleared his throat and looked away. “Do not let this confuse you, priestess; I have not reconverted. I was merely curious. It will never happen again.”

“Alright, that is fine. What was it that you did exactly to ‘return the favor,’ as you said it? The miracle I performed is strictly restricted to nurses. You should not know the words to it.”

He brought a hand up before my face, and saying the very sacred words that I had just mentioned, circled the air before poking my forehead. That was precisely what I had done earlier tonight, only on the Moon. I stared at him in awe. What happens when an ill-qualified caster attempts elaborate miracles that they cannot handle? That same sense of nausea overtook me again, and again, I had to cleanse myself. He gave me a look.

“What did I just do to you?” he asked. “I made you sick.”

“I do not know, Your Highness. I am quite stumped.”

“What did it feel like?”

“That matters not.”

“It matters a great deal. I have just poisoned you.”

“No, you have not. I truly do not know what it was.” I untied the vial from around my waist and offered it to him. “Let us bless you again, only this time, we shall do it correctly. More steps, more cleanses. I shall prepare your soul more thoroughly, so that the light will take. I had wrongly assumed that you were ready to be a vessel—and you are!—but I gave you too much light. I drowned you.”

He took a step back. “I am not as invested in this as you are.”

“Please, let us try it again. You shall keep your eyes closed this time.”

“It would make nary a difference.”

“Prove it, then. Let me bless you once more, and if there is nary a change within you, then you are right.”

“No.” He shook his head, taking another step back. It was a strange reaction, as if he cowered away from me. “This is a waste of time. Save your energy for the ones that need it.”

“My energy is yours. I am a one man’s nurse. If we do not correct this mistake, then I will not know where to start with you.”

“Start nowhere. We have already gone two steps back. Do you not see that this is worse? Your faith makes everything worse. It has ruined me.”

“Ruined you?”

“Silence!” He shouted. His right hand closed into a fist, shoulders growing tense. “Shut your mouth,” he whispered. The apprehension on his face touched me. He was very deeply troubled.

“I can help,” I told him, ignoring his orders. “What is it that you feel?”

He paused. His gaze dropped as he recollected himself. “I feel that Angela should send that other nurse you spoke of. I believe we are through.”

I gave him a look. He clearly did not mean that; I have seen children bluff better. “Alright,” I played into it. “I shall send her word in the morning.”

“Good,” he mumbled. “Goodbye.”

I let him leave without objections. Despite what he has said, that was the most honest that he has been with me so far. I have finally gotten a good look at him, and yet, I do not know what I saw. Even though my years in the hospital have put me in contact with so many ailments, I can confidently say that, before the prince, I had never encountered such a poorly conserved soul. How can I attempt to heal it if he is opposed to all my miracles?

**

10 p.m. at the time of record-keeping

I had no intention of talking to him this morning. Since he wishes me gone, I would play the part, pretending to only have a few more hours in the palace before leaving for good. I avoided his gaze, staring at my plate. It did not take long for him to clear his throat and address me.

“Well, have you contacted Angela about your replacement?”

“I have,” I lied.

“Good.” He nodded. “Make sure to ask the new priestess not to waste any time performing rituals or miracles of any kind, if you please.”

“I shall.”

“I realize that she will not be as qualified as you, but since there is no need whatever for this position to be filled, she will do just as well.”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That she will not be as qualified as I. You cannot know that.”

“You are a High Priestess, are you not? There are only two and Angela is the other one. She would not have made you a High Priestess were you not deserving of the title. I know that for certain.”

I scowled. “Your Highness surprises me with His knowledge. Have you asked about me?”

“As you have asked about me, I presume. One does not welcome a stranger into their family, do they?”

My eyebrows lifted. Considering that his mother figure used to have this position, it should not be surprising that he would consider me family in a way. It was, however, shocking to hear it.

“If Your Highness does not believe that there is any need for this role to exist, then simply say the word and Daughter Angela will terminate it.”

“I have and she refused. She insists on appointing somebody.”

“I see… There might be a reason for that.”

His eyes dulled. We both know that mentioning last night in front of the others would raise suspicion, and worst of all, start rumors, so he kept quiet and I did not push it. “Tell her to send someone much worse at her job,” he said instead. “A priestess that perhaps does not vex me.”

“Absolutely. A mute, perhaps?”

“No. All she must do is follow my orders.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And not bother me over meals.”

“Of course.”

“And only speak when spoken to and not stare so much.”

I dropped my gaze.

“Absolutely no diagnostics.”

I nodded.

“And perhaps… no blue eyes.”

I scowled, keeping my gaze downcast. “Brown eyes, then?”

“That is fine. Younger, also, and skinnier.”

“Blond hair? Shorter, perhaps?”

“Shorter… Why? Is your hair quite long?”

“Quite long.”

He glanced at my veil. “Short hair, then. A man, perhaps. Yes, tell her to send me a man.”

“I am afraid that the daughters of the congregation do not have any male nurses to come live with you.”

He glared at me. “Fine, priestess. Stay, then. Waste all your time with my sister and I shall have no qualms with you.”

“Should I cover my eyes and cut my hair too? Lose a few pounds, perhaps? Is that what Your Highness desires?”

“No.”

“Then tell me how to please you.”

His eyes nearly rolled. “Stop talking now.”

“As Your Highness wishes.”

He gave me an exhausted look before resuming his breakfast.

While I may have held my own during that exchange, I must confess that I was one hateful comment away from quitting my job altogether. How can one be so offensive and think nothing of it? I doubt that Daughter Angela had to put up with half of what has happened to me, and I have only been here for five days. On second thought, I think that I prefer it when he would not speak to me.

I realize, of course, that that attitude will not get me any closer to him. The whole point of my being here is to tend to him. Last night, I learned that he is unwell. Now, I must diagnose him whether he likes it or not. For that, I must learn about who he is, just as he has apparently learned about who I am. His extensive knowledge of the congregation, the rituals and me is still so shocking. I can only wonder how he has gotten all this information. Daughter Angela must have told him. How queer, then, that my past seems to be readily available to him, while his past is a mystery to me. She should at least have evened the scales.

I have once again resorted to Princess Charlotte. She is my only confidante here, and I assume, the one person—other than Daughter Angela herself—who knows the prince best. I tried to be more tactful this time, coaxing her into an innocent bit of conversation only to inch closer and closer to the one topic that I must ask about. Even though his name still disgusts her, she was more receptive this time around.

“I cannot tell you much; my recollection of that time is quite poor,” she said when I asked her about her childhood with the prince. “I was rather young and uninformed. I have only recently learned who Angela is to him and she has been in my life for longer than I have been alive.”

“What did you think they were to each other?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Why, servant and child, of course. She spoiled him rotten, far more than my own nursemaids have ever spoiled me. I used to be so jealous of him. I wished that she would be my nursemaid too.”

“Why was she not?”

“Well, she is his family, not mine. We have always been kept away from each other. Even our tutelage was done separately, after all, he was to become a prince and I was to become a princess. We had different tutors, lessons and classes. We even ate at different times, in different rooms. Mama demanded it to be so.”

“I suppose that explains why you are not very close.”

“Oh, we are merely acquaintances. We hardly ever speak, and when we do…” she trailed off, growing pale. “He has always been quite awful, dear Addie. Quite awful indeed.”

“Does he hurt you?”

She did not answer that. “He joined the royal guard when he was about sixteen,” she told me instead. “It keeps him busy. He quite enjoys it. That was around the same time that he quit the congregation too. He used to dedicate all of himself to it, and now, he does that with the guard. That is good; it is an effective way to keep him too worn out to fight anyone.”

“So he left the congregation at sixteen,” I repeated, mostly to myself than to her. “Did something happen? If he used to dedicate all his time to it, I find it hard to believe that he would dissent willingly.”

“I do not know. All I know is that he got worse for a time, more violent. He stopped holding back. I think the guard began to use that anger in their favor, wearing him thin. He is a good warrior, from what I hear.”

I remember when he had first started to become a household name, notorious for his cruelty on the battlefield. I had just begun my first nursing job at the hospital and nearly all my patients spoke of him. Some saw hope in him, while a much greater number were too terrified to even say his name.

I must learn what happened at that time. I am convinced that he did not simply change his mind without any reason whatsoever. Surely, Daughter Angela knows, but the fact that she has kept his life a secret from me while openly sharing mine with him makes me believe that she would not tell me if I asked. I also do not feel very inclined to beg her for help. She assigned me to him because she believes that I can handle him. So, I will.

It is imperative that I find a way to connect with him. How does one initiate a friendship? As soon as that question crossed my mind, I thought of what Princess Charlotte had told me about courting season, how interested bachelors will send gifts and request to spend time with the woman that they like. While my situation is not exactly the same, I believe that spending time with him, even if unwanted, would ultimately benefit us both.

I asked one of the servants to take me to the training grounds for a surprise visit. I thought that showing an interest in his interests would give us an opportunity to bond. In truth, I should have planned that idea more carefully before committing to it. That is my fault entirely.

The training grounds are quite open, which allowed the guard to notice my arrival right away. Glancing out the small window in the carriage, I quickly realized that they were all shirtless. This is clearly not a space where women are welcome. I must assume that the coachman who brought me over only did so due to my ties to the church. Otherwise, he would probably have declined my request.

The prince approached as I stepped out of the carriage, offering me his hand. I tried not to stare, training my gaze on his face instead. His mood was difficult to read, curious yet wary, and somehow, a bit delighted as well. He seemed to be on the verge of smiling, but thought better of it.

“What brings you, priestess? Has something happened?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Please, do not halt your activities on my account; I am merely stopping by for a visit.”

“I see.” He smirked. “It seems Daughter Adelaide wishes to watch us. Well, let us give her something to remember. Shall we, boys?”

The guard snickered. Suddenly, I was very afraid.

“No, no.” I waved my hands. “I am simply getting to know the area. Please, carry on as if I were not here. I shall not be long.”

“Do not be shy. This is your first time on the training grounds, is it not? Well, I believe I can teach you a thing or two.” He raised his sword, showing it to me. “Look. I have gotten the blade engraved.”

While I may not know the first thing about swords, or any weapon at all, I can confidently say that the careful engraving and the gilded details were beautiful.

“That is quite the sight, Your Highness. You have good taste.”

“Yes, I know.” He offered me the hilt. “Would you like to hold it?”

I promptly glanced at the guard to gauge their reactions, suspecting this to be another trick. Since I only found entertainment on their faces, I assumed that I was not being made fun of this time. My mistake, of course. I took the hilt of the sword with a hand, and as the prince let go, its weight caught me by surprise. I could not hold it one-handed as he had done.

“Careful,” he told me. “It is quite large. You might need to two-hand it. There you go.” The others snickered as he spoke. He could barely contain himself, grinning. “You might… wish to give preference to the base rather than the tip.” He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to keep his composure while the others laughed. “No. Are you right-handed, priestess? Then swap your hands around. Yes. Grip the base, now. Firmer. Do not overextend your wrist. Yes, like that. Good job. Well, how does it feel?”

“Quite heavy.” I struggled to hold it up.

“Do you need help handling it?”

“Oh, I think… perhaps Your Highness could handle it Himself and…” At this point, I decided that it would be smarter to simply play along, and smiling, I told him, “I would much rather watch you do it.”

He turned around, failing to suppress a grin. “Quite. Of course. Alright, boys. Let us give the lady something to watch.”

The lady. He truly does not see me as a clergywoman at all.

Despite all the jokes at my expense, I will admit that I did indulge in watching them exercise. That is why I should not have gone. What did I expect to see? Anything other than a bunch of shirtless men flexing for my pleasure? It was the single most sinful thing that I have ever done. My gaze kept on finding the prince and the scars that adorn his body, forced under some spell. I studied the short blond hairs that dust his chest and gather down his navel. I memorized the width of his shoulders and the thickness of his waist. I did not have the strength to look away. He will be infinitely more difficult to deal with now that I know how he looks half-naked and sun kissed. His gaze burned me much like the other night, watching me from across the field. My attention emboldened him. I fear that I have already lost this fight.

I could only stay for a little while; the heat was far too intense. As I prepared to leave, he once again approached, this time on his own. Sweat dripped down his jaw; his body glistened. I trained my eyes on his own.

“Leaving already?” he asked. His tone was softer now, without the sharp bite from before. He sounded like a different man entirely.

“I am afraid so. I do not wish to bother you.”

His lips parted, saying nothing. He seemed to change his mind before speaking. “May I ask what the real reason for your visit was?”

I hesitated. “I would very much like it if we were friends. I thought that visiting you would be a nice gesture, but I failed to realize that this is your job and I am in the way of your training. I apologize.”

“Friends?” He scowled. “Priestess… I shall never be your friend.”

“Why not?”

He gave me an odd look instead of an answer, watching me strangely. Then, a slow smirk sharpened his lips and the mood promptly shifted. If he sees me as a woman, does that mean that I am no longer family? He took a step back. “See you at dinner.”

My mind was stuck on that all day. I wondered, at first, if I should behave differently now that I know how he reads our interactions. If I were a regular unmarried woman, I would be treating him with the cold and distant respect that all royals should receive from the general population, not bothering him over meals and getting into arguments about his faith. I am only doing this because I am his nurse. I am treating him how any patient should be treated, regardless of their background.

Then, I had a wicked thought, that perhaps I could use this bit of information to my advantage. I could use his own interest against him.

I will preface this next section by saying that I was completely in the wrong here. I have been desperate to get anywhere with him, and I know that does not justify my actions tonight, but that is why I did what I did. I hope that God can find it in Himself to forgive me. I am a sinner and I am flawed. I am only trying to carry out my duties. I am trying to care for him.

He did not seem particularly affected at dinnertime, back to ignoring me. I had hoped that the fire from earlier would have lasted longer than that, or at the very least, been reignited once we saw each other again. He seems to vacillate between hating me, wanting me, playing with me and ignoring me completely.

If we were to resume our inappropriate conversations from earlier, then I would have to be the one to do it. I had dreaded that possibility. How does one gather a man’s attention? I still do not know why his interest comes and goes. He is never consistent on how he feels for me at any given time. I cannot predict how receptive he will be to anything that I might say. Lost in a situation that I have no experience in, I was unable to capture his focus. I let him eat in perfect silence.

It was only after dinner that an opportunity presented itself to me. As we left the king’s apartment, he sidled up to me and very inconspicuously asked if he could walk me to my bedchamber. I was not blind to the mischief in his eyes, planning something. Thankfully, those were the very same plans that I had failed to make earlier. So, I offered him a timid smile and accepted. He accompanied me diligently. We did not speak the whole way over.

It was only upon arriving that I finally broke the silence, asking him if he wished to come in. He was immediately suspicious. As he hesitated, I pushed the door open, holding his gaze. I tried to conjure up an enticing look, so that there would be no doubt about my filthy intentions. I wished to tell him, without a word, that I desired him. Ironically, he was my only inspiration for it. I mimicked his own gaze back to him and somehow made it work. He did not need any further persuasion to follow me in.

I should have realized that seducing him into an empty room would put him directly within my personal space. He shut the door for me, and as I turned, I found him less than six inches away. A rich earthy scent was thick in the air around him. It was the first time that he did not smell of sweat. He leaned in, but I quickly stopped him with a hand flat over his chest. My heart was beating so loudly that I was barely able to hear my own words.

“Let me bless you,” I whispered.

Confusion put a scowl on his forehead. He had his left hand pressed against the door, boxing me in. Somehow, I did not feel trapped. “Why?”

“The holy water I gave you before is nearly gone. I wish to feel you.”

His eyes lowered, face catching color. I felt the quick beating of his heart under my palm. “Where?” he asked. “Here?” Taking my wrist, he ran my hand down his chest. His shirt is so thin that I could feel through it, the heat that radiated from him. I could not muster up the strength to pull away.

“Your Highness…” I did not let him drag my hand below his waist. “I shall only touch you as your nurse.”

“Then touch me as my nurse.”

I brought both of my hands to his chest, and uttering a few words, drew a sacred pattern with my index fingers. I needed to see just how quickly the holy water had been absorbed. To my surprise, it was all nearly gone.

He promptly stepped away. “You are serious.”

“What is eating up all the light inside you?” I mused, mostly speaking to myself. “You have swallowed up the abyss. Do you feel any different when you pray, or does it not have any effect on you?”

“Nothing has any effect on me. I have already told you this. Have you seriously brought me here for an examination?”

“Do not berate me; this is the only way that I can speak to you in private. Would you have followed me in otherwise?”

“Yes.”

I gave him a look. I did not believe that. “Alright, I apologize. Now, may we get back to the issue at hand? Have the rituals never had any effect on you, or is that a recent development?”

“It is not recent, although it is a development.”

“When did you first notice it? At sixteen, perhaps?”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“That is precisely what I wish to know. Did something happen when you were sixteen?”

“Yes, I joined the guard.”

“Other than that. Why did you dissent so suddenly?”

“It was not such a mindless decision; I had simply reached my limit. One can only deal with so much disappointment before quitting altogether.”

“Quitting what? What were you trying to achieve?”

The look in his eyes was so cutting that I might as well have bled. “I have had enough of you. Angela has not administered a single ritual or miracle or whatever in several years. She has not acted as a priestess since I was a teenager, so why are you trying to be one? That is not why you are here. Frankly, I do not know why you are here, considering how young you are, and the fact that we hardly know each other. Angela—!” He cut himself off. A breath left his lungs as he calmed down. “I am leaving. I do not care if you remain in the palace, but if you do, then do me the courtesy of pretending that I do not exist.”

“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “Do you wish to know why I am here? Why Daughter Angela has sent me?”

His eyes flattened, but he waited anyway, impatiently as it might have been, not fighting my grip on him. I took that to mean that he was interested despite himself and continued.

“She told me that you needed someone to care for you and you do. I understand that that is not what you wish to hear, and I am sorry, but you are my responsibility and I am going to do what she has asked of me, even if you would rather I did not.”

“I think I am perfectly capable of caring for myself, thank you.”

“You know that is not what I mean.”

He grew quiet. His jaw ticked as he clenched it. “I am not an idiot, priestess. I know there is something wrong. I have lived with this for years. I have tried everything. What I have has no cure.”

“I strongly believe that it does. You felt me, remember?”

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything. You would not have rushed to my room last night otherwise. We are getting somewhere.”

“You are wasting your time.”

“Then give me a chance to prove to you that I am not.”

“No.” He snatched his arm free. “I am done.”

Feeling that I had exhausted this exchange, I stepped aside and let him through. That does not mean that I have given up on him, however. It was merely the end of our argument. I looked for him on the Moon, knowing full well that he would not be there, and gave him affection anyway. He received it; his soul vibrated with joy. I must show him just how much he matters to me. I must show him that I care.

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