Rob hardly had a chance to gape at the Chancellor’s hungry smile before an old man’s shaky hand reached across from the opposite bench pat the Chancellor’s sleeve.

“There, there, good Chancellor,” he said, “Let’s spare the poor boy your deals and trades, at least for tonight, shall we? Doctor, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I trust you’ll excuse an old man from getting up? I only just sat down, and I’m feeling rather comfortable at the moment. Please, join us; there’s room for one more.”

Rob hesitated, his eyes still locked on the Chancellor, but after Hans gave him a shove, Rob eased onto the empty seat that had been offered to him.

“Now then, introductions all around,” said the old man, although now that Rob was closer, he didn’t look that old. His hair was more brown than grey, and though he had his share of wrinkles, his blue eyes were clear, and Rob guessed that he couldn’t have been more that fifty-five or sixty. Even by candlelight, however, Rob could see his skin possessed an unhealthy pallor, and his movements seemed labored, all of which added to the weight of his years.

“You know the Chancellor, of course,” the man said.

Rob nodded while flipping through a mental catalog of chronic diseases he might be suffering from. Arthritis, perhaps? “Of course.”

“And I am the palace librarian,” he continued. “Appointed by the King himself, which sounds much less impressive if you know that I am also the King’s brother.”

Rob blinked. “No, I didn’t know that. Your majesty?”

“Ho, ho!” The man laughed kindly as he waved his hands in front of him. “I’m a prince in name only, but you’ll never see me on the throne. Please, call me Wilhelm.”

“Or your majesty,” the Chancellor spoke under his breath.

“Ah, the Chancellor does like his titles,” Wilhelm said, winking. “But doctor, I’d be sorry if the next time we met, you didn’t call me by name.”

“If you call me Rob, or Robert, I’d be honored to call you Wilhelm.”

“Done! Chancellor, I like this fellow already. Remind me why you were so suspicious of him?”

The Chancellor muttered something unintelligible.

“No matter,” Wilhelm said. “Finally, this fellow to my left is . . . I’m sorry, your name remains new to me. Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself to our doctor?”

Rob had been so busy keeping a wary eye on the Chancellor and attempting to diagnose the librarian that the fourth member of their party had completely failed to register. He was clean shaven and well dressed, his clothes almost sparkling in the dim light as if they were made of plastic instead of fine woolens. The man stood, removing his close-fitting cap to reveal a bald head with a just dash of stubble, and offered his hand for Rob to shake. Rob jumped to his feet to reciprocate and banged his head on the alcove’s arched ceiling.

“Ouch. That looked painful,” the fellow said, taking Rob’s hand in a firm, manly grip. He was lean and at least as tall as Rob, but his bald head seemed a little too big for his body, making the rest of him appear smaller somehow. Rob absently wondered which fairy tale he hailed from. “I’m Lawrence Dixon, a merchant seeking new markets here. You’re the doctor I’ve heard about?”

“Robert Lang. Nice to meet you, Lawrence.”

“Call me Dixon. Most people do.” Their handshake complete, both men sat down. Dixon returned his cap to his head, while Rob lifted a hand to rub his new sore spot.

Wilhelm beamed at the conclusion of introductions. “All right, then! Dixon, how are you finding our town?”

“Prospects seem fine. I see a number of opportunities.” Dixon spoke in a business-like tone as he absently stroked the tuft of hair under his lower lip. “I look forward to making more trips here.”

“Trips?” Rob said. “Where are you from? I haven’t met many other foreigners since coming here.”

A slight smile cracked Dixon’s jawline. “It’s interesting that you should ask, doctor, as I was wondering the same thing about you. I’m having the damnedest time placing your accent.”

“I, uh . . .” Rob sputtered out a few word-like sounds, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to lie about where he’d come from, but the truth was rarely helpful to people. “I didn’t know I had an accent.”

Dixon nodded. “Slight, but noticeable.”

“Come now, the doctor sounds like a native!” Wilhelm said. “His speech is nearly indistinguishable from mine or the Chancellor’s.”

“People seem to understand me,” Rob said, nervous about where this was going. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“It’s better than when he first showed up,” the Chancellor added.

“Which was about a year ago,” Dixon said. “If what the Chancellor told me is correct?”

“It is,” the Chancellor said haughtily.

“It is,” Rob echoed, minus the haughty tone. “Correct, I mean. I came here last fall, and I’ve been practicing medicine more or less ever since.”

But Dixon wasn’t yet satisfied. “Which doesn’t answer the question of where you’re from.”

“You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“I’ve been many places, and heard of many more,” Dixon said. “Try me.”

“You’ve never heard of it,” the Chancellor said. “If I’ve never heard of it, you’ve never heard of it.”

“Okay.” Rob sighed, feeling nervous in his stomach. It had been so long since somebody inquired about his past that he’d mostly forgotten that he might have something to hide. “It’s Seattle, home to big trees and bigger salmon.”

“Seattle.” Dixon’s smile vanished. “Fascinating.”

“I told you you’d never heard of it,” the Chancellor said before Wilhelm shushed them all.

“That’s enough badgering of the doctor tonight,” he said. “He’s beginning to look unwell, and we can’t have a sick doctor, now can we? Perhaps he can visit me in the palace library some afternoon and we can poke around the map collection to see if we can’t find his homeland.”

Dixon lifted his cup. “I’ll drink to that.” He sipped his wine, though he continued to study Rob.

“Very good,” Wilhelm said. “Now, doctor, won’t you tell us about some interesting cases you’ve encountered of late?”

“Yes,” Rob said, happy to change the subject. “I mean, no, I can’t. Doctor-patient confidentially, you understand.”

Wilhelm and Dixon nodded politely, although Rob doubted they really understood. The Chancellor just snorted.

“But I can tell you about our teaching hospital. I mean, it’s not much of a hospital, just the sick rooms at the abbey, but I’ve been working with some of the monks there to train them in medicine. They’ve been really enthusiastic, which is great. I can only be in so many places at once, and we’re too big a town for a single-physician health-care system.

Rob continued. “I’ve also run into folk healers and herbalists we might bring into the mix someday, if the Godmother gives her approval. Maybe even some barber surgeons, who at the very least aren’t afraid of blood. I think we’ve got some potential.”

“Wonderful!” Wilhelm exclaimed.

“Impressive,” Dixon said. “What’s holding you back?”

“Nothing, really,” Rob said. “I mean, my time. Money, I suppose. The Godmother relaxing her guild rules. And clearing all this with the Abbot.”

Dixon nodded. “I can help with money. I intend to do more business here in town, and having a robust teaching hospital seems like a smart investment.”

“Leave the Godmother to me,” Wilhelm said. “As someone who hasn’t always enjoyed the best of health, I’ll convince her of our need.”

“As for the Abbot,” the Chancellor said, attempting to look bored, although his ears had perked up. “He I see eye to eye on most matters, and I know our King would be well served with a home-grown supply of physicians. Yes, yes.”

Rob shook his head at all these promises of aid. Hans had been right; a little networking really could pay off. If he could just survive the Godmother’s wrath past midnight.

But the Chancellor wasn’t finished. “You surprise me, doctor. I only expected trouble out of you, after having been cheated so sorely.”

“Cheated?” Rob asked. “Who cheated?”

The Chancellor held out his wrist to reveal Rob’s former digital watch, the face of which was blank. “Its magic evaporated not a fortnight after you took advantage of my kindness, and though I’ve had all manner of jewelers examine it, none can make this device of yours display figures or produce light again.”

Wilhelm sighed, turning to observe the dancers; it seemed he’d heard the Chancellor’s sob story before. The cloth merchant Dixon was another matter, however. His eyes widened in surprise while his hand energetically stroked the hair beneath his lower lip.

“Look,” Rob said. “These things don’t last forever, especially when you hold down the light button for too long. And if you recall, I didn’t ask for your deal.”

The Chancellor pouted. “Cheated, I was, and by a foreigner. I’m ashamed. When the King returns from abroad, I’ll greet him with my resignation.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, Chancellor,” Wilhelm said. “The King would never accept your resignation, and you know it. And who would come visit me in the library if you were gone? So few people besides you and my brother show any interest in books.”

The Chancellor ‘harumphed,’ though Rob thought he spotted a satisfied twist curling up the edges of his thin-lipped mouth.

“Your brother,” Rob said. “The King. He’s a scholar?”

“Oh yes,” Wilhelm said. “As much as I am. That’s why he’s abroad, you see, visiting libraries and universities. He doesn’t enjoy governing, but neither does he trust anyone else to keep the peace.”

Wilhelm sighed before continuing. “I envy him. My health has never permitted me to travel far. But our library here is a good one, full of books that cater to our interests. Folklore. Language. Stories. That’s how we got our start, my brother and I, by collecting stories.

“And now I will say good-bye,” Wilhelm finished. “But doctor—Robert—I do hope you’ll pay me a visit in the palace library. I look forward to your progress on this hospital idea. It’s quite exciting!”

Rob rose ahead of Wilhelm to show respect for the older man, but he became puzzled when the librarian remained seated.

“Ah! I see!” Wilhelm said. “Your courtesy is appreciated, but while it’s getting close to an old man’s bedtime, I’m not the one who must excuse himself.”

Wilhelm, Dixon, and even the Chancellor were all looking behind him, so Rob—hunched slightly due to the alcove—swiveled to find Greta with her hands clasped in front of her tiny waist. She wore a long gown whose color seemed to shimmer in the candlelight, from pink to rose and back again. 

Tiny beads of sweat dotted the base of her neck, which was flirtatiously uncovered by gown or chemise. Her blue eyes glistened, and she looked so light and ethereal that Rob felt as if she might float away at any moment.