The Leper King's Healer

Chapter 38

Meanwhile Baldwin sat in his chamber, the weight of the discussion with his mother, Lady Agnes, still fresh in his mind. Her words had left a mark on him.

As he contemplated the complex web of emotions and responsibilities that bound him, a servant entered the chamber, carrying a small package. Baldwin looked up, his curiosity piqued, as the servant presented the gift to him.

"It's from Her Majesty, Queen Philippa," the servant announced.

Baldwin's heart skipped a beat as he accepted the package. It was wrapped in delicate silk, and a sense of anticipation welled up within him. Philippa's actions were always filled with thought and meaning, and he couldn't help but wonder about the significance of this gesture.

Gently, he unwrapped the package, revealing a finely embroidered handkerchief. However, as he examined it more closely, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The handkerchief, though clearly crafted with care, bore a design that was more akin to a rug than a delicate accessory.

Baldwin couldn't suppress a soft chuckle at the sight of it. Philippa's efforts to create something beautiful, even if it was outside her usual talents, touched him deeply.

Tucked within the folds of the handkerchief was a letter, penned by Philippa herself. Baldwin carefully unfolded it and began to read. Her words were filled with warmth, concern, and a genuine inquiry about his well-being.

Baldwin couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt for the distance he had allowed to grow between them. Philippa's gift and her heartfelt letter were a beacon of hope, a chance to mend what had been strained.

In that moment, he made a silent vow, a pledge not just to the kingdom, but to Philippa herself. He swore to protect her at all costs, to stand by her side through all the challenges that lay ahead. It was a promise that he intended to keep, for he knew that she was a queen unlike any other, and she had captured not only his kingdom but also his heart.

Philippa's POV :

Weeks slipped by like grains of sand through an hourglass, and the weight of Baldwin's continued avoidance bore heavily on my heart. Each day that passed without his presence felt like a chisel slowly chipping away at my patience. Determined to adhere to my promise of becoming more passive, I had donned the facade of a delicate lady, concealing my mounting frustration behind graceful smiles and practiced poise.

My days were marked by a relentless routine, a dance of delicate gestures and feigned calmness. I wrote letters, my pen crafting words that danced between tenderness and longing, pouring out my heart onto parchment. Yet, each day passed with no response, leaving my letters unanswered and my heart heavy.

The royal meals, once a chance for togetherness, became a painful reminder of his absence. The empty seat beside me seemed to mock my efforts to maintain my composure. Despite the elegant façade I presented to the world, my heart clenched with each silent meal.

And then there were the gifts-the tokens of apology that had once arrived like whispers of his presence. But even these ceased, leaving my chamber untouched by the nightly offerings that had become a bittersweet comfort. The void left by their absence was a tangible ache, a reminder of our growing distance.

Despite my best efforts, My patience began to fray, and my spirit was tarnished by the absence of the one person I longed to see. my smile grew strained, and the spark in my eyes dulled with the weight of her unspoken emotions.

One day, as the sun cast a warm glow across the room, I found myself engrossed in the creation of a medicine, my fingers meticulously measuring and mixing the ingredients.