Ein diligently navigated the laboratory, deeply engrossed in his work with various materials. Merely two days prior, Arthur had been reassigned to the wards. Mey had efficiently orchestrated his transfer, securing financial support from the royal hospital. However, her demeanor had grown increasingly distant. She communicated only to provide Ein and his team with directives necessary to expedite the development in their research, engaging in no further conversation. Most of her time was spent within the wards, and her once-quiet disposition had intensified remarkably. Approaching her now seemed nearly insurmountable; she maintained an air of politeness, yet the haunted expression in her eyes hinted at a fragile grip on her sanity, discouraging any attempts at engagement.
As usual, Ein was occupied in the wards, sifting through a multitude of documents. Mey had instructed him to complete testing and the second trial by evening, ensuring the results were submitted before the conclusion of her shift. She had become more desperate for research to be finished soon and he knew why. For Arthur. Although this task was overwhelming, Ein remained resolute in his commitment to see it through. He worked tirelessly to keep his junior researchers engaged, even as they bore the strain of extended hours. The gravity of their circumstances compelled them to persist in silence; no one dared to defy her at this juncture.
Suddenly, Elizabeth, the king's sister, entered hastily, her expression one of shock.
"I have heard the distressing news concerning Arthur. And oh….poor Mey..." she exclaimed, breathless.
She approached Ein, inquiring, "Where are they? Can I see Arthur? Can I see her?"
"Your Highness, I must extend my sincerest apologies," Ein replied. "Arthur is in critical condition and is affected by an epidemic; we cannot permit you access at this time."
"Who are you to make such a determination?" Elizabeth retorted. "I must see them immediately."
"However..." Ein attempted to interject, yet she disregarded his words.
"Step aside," Elizabeth commanded. "You cannot order me to halt; I will not return without seeing Mey."
"But we have been instructed not to..." Ein persisted.
"Whose orders?" Elizabeth inquired, her irritation palpable.
"Orders from the royal court," Mey interjected, her voice cold. Her expression remained impassive, yet her eyes radiated fierce anger and defiance as she stood tall at the enterance.
Elizabeth faltered.
"Mey, I was eager to see you... and Arthur. I must see him," Elizabeth pleaded, moving to embrace Mey. However, Mey stepped back and bowed, evading the gesture.
When she rose, she met Elizabeth's gaze directly.
"You must return, Your Highness," Mey stated firmly. "You cannot meet Arthur, irrespective of your insistence."
"But... how are you?" Elizabeth asked, concern etched upon her features. "Oh, Mey, I have been so worried for you."
Mey gently removed Elizabeth's hands from her shoulders, setting them aside.
"I am well, Your Highness."
"Mey, are you harboring anger towards me?" Elizabeth pressed.
"I apologize," Elizabeth continued. "I understand that Arthur is like a father to you, and this must be immensely challenging, but I..."
"May I speak candidly, Your Highness?" Mey interjected, her tone resolute.
"Of course, my dear," Elizabeth replied. "Please, do be forthright."
"We do not share the closeness you presume permits such familiarity," Mey responded. "We are not close enough for you to inquire about my well-being. We are not close enough for you to express concern for me. We are not close enough for you to disrupt my work with your affection."
Each word struck with such intensity, each sentence sharper than the last. The atmosphere fell silent, leaving Elizabeth, Ein, and the junior researchers momentarily speechless.
Ein finally stepped in, seeking to assist Elizabeth, who appeared at a loss for words.
"Dr. Mey, if I may, it may not be prudent to be so direct with the..."
Elizabeth interrupted him. "Do not impede her. After all, I encouraged her to be honest."
Though she understood Mey's aversion to her affection, witnessing such animosity in her eyes was profoundly disheartening. It hurt very much.
"Mey, I am truly sorry," Elizabeth said, her voice faltering. "I did not intend to discomfort you. I had no idea you felt such hatred towards me. I have always perceived you as family, like a dear child to me."
Mey stood frozen, yet Elizabeth's words resonated deeply within her. Looking at Elizabeth's concerned expression, Mey found herself more wounded than comforted.
"I do not harbor hatred for Your Highness," Mey replied. "However, I do not consider you family as well. Arthur is my only family. Your affection feels burdensome to me. If you wish to support me then do me this one favor, I kindly ask that we maintain our distance in the future, for your presence brings me pain rather than solace."
As she uttered the final sentence, Mey struggled to maintain her composed facade. She quickly averted her gaze, turning her face aside to conceal any emotion that might have surfaced.
Elizabeth was profoundly hurt. It felt as if hundreds of knifes were stabbed into her chest but she composed herself. "Very well, Mey. I understand. I shall respect your boundaries henceforth."
With that, Elizabeth turned and exited hastily, gathering her dress around her.
Ein observed the scene and turned to look at Mey in disbelief, yet Mey met his gaze boldly, conveying her lack of regret for her actions. Disappointment flickered in his eyes and he turned around to followed Elizabeth, concerned for her well-being, acutely aware of the hurt she sought to mask.
Mey sighed and clised her eyes momentarily after they had left. She had finally articulated her long-suppressed discomfort regarding their interactions, particularly with Elizabeth. The kindness and affection intended to foster connection felt suffocating, regardless of their good intentions. In voicing her truth, she experienced a fleeting sense of relief—a small breath of freedom. Perhaps she would not have to confront those feelings again. However, her momentary ease was soon eclipsed by the grim reality of the present. Refocusing her efforts, she returned to her tasks, collecting the files she had originally come for and making her way back to the wards.