Just as well. Max could see he was about to be thrown out anyway. But that left Yihui to search for answers without Dr. Willis’ information. Fortunately, that didn’t seem to bother her.
“I assume he has been given medicine. May I see it?”
The queen made a gesture and a footman brought over a vial pulled from the doctor’s large bag. “This and this,” he said as he set down the bottles. The man didn’t exactly sneer, but his tone wasn’t cordial.
Yihui sniffed the first bottle and quickly set it down. “Laudanum,” she said as she looked at the frenetic king. “Does it have much effect?”
“Not without a very large dose,” the footman answered.
Yihui nodded and set the bottle aside. She opened the second bottle and tipped a tiny drop onto her finger which she set upon her tongue.
Then she spit it out straight into a handkerchief.
“This is poison!” she cried, obviously shocked. “For rats!”
The queen nodded. “Dr. Willis said that in the right proportions, it has greatly benefited other patients.”
Yihui nodded. “Yes, there are times when I use such a thing.” Her gaze went to the king. “But it will not help him.”
The queen lifted her chin. “What would you do?”
Yihui took one last look at the king then focused completely on the queen. “My father had two such patients in Canton. Onewas a man, the other a woman.” She frowned. “But neither was blind. That is something unique to the king.”
“What did your father prescribe?”
“We balanced the channels of energy. We calmed when the patient grew excited. Energized when the patient was overwhelmed with sadness. I can make medicines for this.”
“And did it cure them?”
Yihui shook her head. “No. The moods remained, but not as severe.” Then she frowned. “This blindness, however, seems a bad addition. I can prepare soaks for him.” She made a gesture of setting a wet cloth on the eyes. “It may help.”
The queen’s lips compressed. “But they most likely will not,” she guessed. “Tell me, Miss Wong, what use are you to me?”
Yihui lifted her chin, meeting the queen’s gaze with a steady one of her own. “I would like to give him a special medicine. It is the same brew that saved my life.”
The queen shook her head. “He does not have broken feet. It is his mind that rebels—”
“This medicine is very strong. I have seen it cure many different ailments.” She sniffed as she pointed at the bottle of poison. “And if you wish to settle his stomach, stop feeding him poison.”
The queen stared at Yihui, clearly undecided. To the side, the king was growing agitated again. He had completely broken his quill and now threw it away with disgust. His mutterings were louder and his gestures more expansive.
“Do you have someone who sits with him? Who listens when he speaks?”
“He speaks nonsense!” the queen huffed.
“A girl, perhaps, who knows how to be patient? Or a religious man whose energy is calming?”
“No,” the queen returned. “I think you are making things up.”
“Please, Your Majesty. At least let him try the strong tea. The one that cured my infection.”
The queen looked back at her. “You believe it is an infection?”
“I believe that when one is poisoned a little every day, the body becomes weak and cannot defend against many things.”
It took a while. The queen was clearly distraught, especially as her husband started shouting, standing up hard enough to bang the desk with his shins. He howled in distress and no one, not even the footmen went to his aid. It was Olivia who made a mew of disgust and crossed to the king. She spoke in a sing-song tone, and he began to quiet to listen. As did everyone else.
It was a lullaby, Max realized, in Gaelic.
