Cleaning up the Mess

"There is no need to kill them," Boss Solis said.

The mercenaries immediately heaved a sigh of relief.

With a lazy smirk, Boss Solis added, "Yet."

The mercenaries tensed again.

Cain, meanwhile, had passed out.

"Shall I knock them out for you?" Noir asked Boss Solis, pointing at the mercenaries.

"Please," the man replied gratefully.

Noir made short work of the stupefied mercenaries and tied them together with the shower curtains. While he was dealing with them, Boss Solis drained the tub and wrapped himself in a towel.

"Thank you," Boss Solis said softly, when Noir turned back to him.

Noir smiled at him. "No need." He approached the man in the tub again. "You are…unable to move your legs?" he asked softly.

Boss Solis sighed and nodded.

"May I take a look?" Noir asked politely.

Scores of doctors had already examined his legs in the last six months, but no one had been able to give him any hope. Boss Solis didn't really expect any miracle anymore, nor did he mind this man's curiosity. He owed him his life anyway.

"Go ahead," he said.

Noir's fingers were gentle and efficient. He finished quickly.

"Your nerves are badly damaged," he murmured. "And your muscles are wasting away because of non usage. How long has it been?"

"Six months," Solis replied. He knew the diagnosis already.

Noir frowned. "How were your legs damaged?" he asked.

"I was in a car crash," Boss Solis said with a wry smile. A car that was probably rigged.

Noir looked at him blankly. "Car crash?" he asked. "Is that…something like a carriage? Your legs seem to have been damaged on various levels from what I can perceive – there is damage from impact with something moving rapidly, there are lacerations caused by heated metal, there are burns from liquid fuel, there is damage from being crushed under something heavy…this must have happened six months ago?"

Solis nodded silently.

Noir frowned again. "But there is nerve damage from poison even before that," he said. "At least a year ago…and it is still being administered to you." He fixed his brown eyes on the sharp grey ones of Boss Solis. "Your reflexes seem to be naturally fast from what I saw earlier. If your nerves hadn't been weakened by poison, you may have been able to escape from this 'car crash' without much damage."

Boss Solis was startled. No one had told him this before…was this man telling the truth or was he simply making up stories?

Noir suddenly leaned down and picked up the other man from the dry bathtub. "You may catch a cold if you stay here any longer," he murmured. "Are your chambers nearby?"

Chambers? What a strange way to put it, Boss Solis thought.

"My bedroom is right outside this door," he said, pointing at the bathroom door. Cain was supposed to have been on guard duty today, but since he had revealed himself as the traitor, the servant who was supposed to serve Boss Solis today – the one who had helped him into the bathtub earlier – was either missing or knocked out or dead or…was yet another traitor. There was no point in refusing this man's help.

Noir deftly carried Solis out of the bathroom and into the lavish bedroom. He put down the man on the bed. A neatly folded set of clothes lay on a stool by the side of the bed. The clothes looked rather strange and unfamiliar to Noir, but he could more or less figure out what went where since he had seen the assailants wearing a suit earlier, and, with some instructions from Solis, he was able to help Solis get dressed properly.

"Thank you," Solis said again.

"You really don't need to thank me," Noir said with a smile. "Whether you meant to save me or not, the fact is that I was saved from certain death when I crashed into your lap earlier."

"Who are you, really?" Solis asked.

"I'm Prince Noir from the Ray Kingdom," Noir repeated. "I told you before. I was watching the circus with my family on my twenty first birthday and fell off the imperial viewing tower. I thought I was going to crash to my death, but I somehow ended up here." He looked around the room. "This world is very different from mine."

Solis stared at him silently for a long time. "Prince Noir is a mythological character," he murmured.

Noir nodded. "I thought as much; one of those bad guys said so, didn't he? Even made fun of Fiona." He rubbed his temples. "Could you tell me what this world thinks of Prince Noir?"

"I can give you the book if you want to read it yourself," Solis offered.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Noir said gratefully. He hesitated for a moment. "May I ask you for a favour?"

"Of course," Solis replied. "I'm Solis, by the way."

Noir looked quite awkward. "Solis…may I stay with you for a while? Only until I'm able to figure out how things work in this world and find something to do!" He started counting on his fingers, "I can cook, I can clean, I can wash your clothes, I can help you with your daily activities, I can help you heal your legs, I can act as your guard…I'll earn my keep, I promise!"

Solis stared at him, wondering if he was hearing things. "What did you just say…?"

Noir started again, "I can cook, clean, wash…"

Solis held up a hand to interrupt him. "You said you can help me heal my legs…?"

Noir blinked. "Yes, of course. It's fairly simple once we have eliminated the poison and get your muscles working. Shouldn't take more than three months or so." He frowned. "Don't you have healers here? Why didn't you seek their assistance before?"

"The healers of this world – over twenty of them – have told me there is no hope for my legs," Solis said flatly.

Noir was floored. "Was the art of healing lost in this world…?" he murmured to himself.