The Queen Needs Therapy (IC: sign up required)

[New Edom]

Father Emmaeus raised his salt and pepper eyebrows. "Sweating and dunking is a very effective remedy to improve the humour, my dear Doctor. It sweats out the illness from the pores and seals them with cold. Physical remedies are often a good thing for what ails us."

"Yes, we've done blood and urine tests on the Queen," he said with a grimace. "Which I undertook with great reluctance at the insistence of some of my staff, who have some foolish modern ideas. I felt it was an imposition on the Royal Personage, personally, but I'm just an old fool, what do I know? There are people coming out of medical school now who haven't even got a divinity degree in our country--just like in your own." His eyes were flinty.

"At any rate, didn't tell us that there was any disease of the body. The Queen is in very good health other than the drinking, which I deplore. But she's unhappy. I heard you proscribed exercise for her," his tone grudging, "And that's good. Perhaps you're not the quack I fear you might be, but I would like to state for the record that I am skeptical about your 'science', Doctor Weinstein. Oh yes, and some more details for you: she has no problems with her breathing, blood pressure or with anything else. Her physical aches and pains and tiredness are melancholia. I know my job. Now is there anything else, if you don't want some shoes? I'm a busy man."

[Hittanryan]

Saint Anselm's/Majestic Hotel

It was abruptly clear why the Royal Family had turned to foreign expertise, and why Mara hadn't already been diagnosed before they arrived. A physician skeptical of science. That wasn't good. Sweating illness out from the pores and sealing them with cold? What was this, the 18th century? Weinstein was also suddenly thankful for Emmaeus' staff while marveling at the logic that blood and urine tests were intrusive but enemas weren't. Where did he get his degree? And what did a divinity degree have to do with medicine?

Thanking Emmaeus for his time, Weinstein needed to figure out his living arrangements next. Before he could call his wife, he needed to know exactly how much he could disclose. Obviously he couldn't tell anyone he was treating the queen, but how vague did he need to be? Could he mention it involved the royal family in passing? What about just the court? The Edomite government? He found his inquiry was quickly directed to Dr. Sindrik, who informed him it was acceptable to mention he was working for the Ministry of Health.

Weinstein spent the rest of the afternoon on the phone with his wife, discussing things like money, moving, living arrangements, security. His wife had never pried into the identity of his patients before, but kept asking things about the job he couldn't answer. Who exactly was he working for? How long would it take? Was this a permanent position? Weinstein wished she'd focus that energy on the move to Padan-Aran.

[Seelelander]

Cooperatively written with New Edom !

The Home of Amyris Rezanic
The Suburb of Röderhest in the Siklesan Province

Far off beyond the Sea of Ebon, the sun rises above the isles of Seeleländer on the Western Isle of Röderhest. It would be here that she would prepare her venture to the city of Tamrir, it would be there that Doctor Amyris Rezanic would kiss her brother goodbye, leaving behind a life she may never be able to return to. It would be then with tearful eyes she would bid farewell to the beautiful isles she called home for so long. Those moments where she laughed as she played on the fields chasing sheep, the choir of crickets chirping in the moonlight, and the wildflowers that seemed to expand forever. As she imagined in her mind that last chance to embrace her brother Davos; who, like her, shared their late father’s two toned entrancing seafoam and green eyes, she was overcome with emotions. She attempted with great difficulty to keep from shedding further tears, as she was disciplined. Such a lucrative deal for her was an opportunity of a lifetime, and she would not pass it off, even if it meant that her mother would shun her and forbid her from returning home to the suburbs of Westenbruck. This loss would be something that Amyris would accept, for the greater good to her would mean a life of service that she would dedicate on behalf of the greater family of humanity, and for this she had no regrets.

A sweet and salty fleck of teardrops spilled from her long full eyelashes as she composed herself, taking a last glimpse of her neighborhood, her full red lips gently curving downward as she let out her last dry sob. As she stepped on her porch to look across the streets with their iron wrought designed gates and streetlamps she took a whiff of the romantic two toned roses, with their heady fragrance, and she looked to the distance where the pearly violet hued blossoms of nascent heather spread over the hinterlands. One of the older districts of Shepherds Run Boulevard, it had the quaint view of the large fields in the distance, but the comforts of a short commute to the city. On the commute to the city there were also old wooden fences where sheep and rams were lead in flocks by the shepherd accompanied by his partner the loyal Seeleländian Sheepdog, taken to their comfortable dwellings where they would then take shelter from the coming rain. It was a soft sprinkle that scattered over the grass and rushes, the stormy skies leaving a somber feeling that seemed to echo the sentiments within her.

It was not one that would inhibit Dr. Rezanic’s path to New Edom. Foremost she hoped it would not lead to flight delays, as she would have to sleep in the airport or rent a hotel, and be left to her own thoughts. Those thought which gave her a deep sense of sadness for her mother’s shortsightedness, and the lack of comfort from her father who passed away. She had accepted the loss, and had accepted that her mother would not accept her life choices, but it was still difficult to remain emotionless in the face of such hardship. Her brother, while a comfort to her would remain behind, as Davos would dare not speak against his mother after all. She saw the houses of timber and stone pass by focusing on the road ahead, the asphalt lanes with the yellow and white lines that kept trailing on and on, promising the path was ahead of her. As she followed those lines, she drove with her mind concentrated and focused on the future. The present though painful would wane once the promise of a happier future was within her grasp.

As she reached the metropolis of Tamrir she could be certain she’d be able to arrive without incident to New Edom, she approached the check in and produced her boarding pass arriving as herself. She checked her luggage carefully, her black pencil skirt hugging her firm shapely thighs, and her hips swaying as she walked. Her body was very similar to the classic hourglass, but was longer producing one of the most elegant body shapes that exists among women, like a gentle vase with more than ample curves, longer legs and a longer torso with all the wonderful feminine curves that came with her less pronounced roundness. It made her appear curvy, yet slender. She was elegantly dressed, her clothing concentrated instead on the daintier areas of her body such as her lower arms and her long legs by wearing a three quarter length sleeved v-necked single button black jacket and a scoop neck white button down blouse fitted at her waist adding some emphasis to the contour of her body. The fitted top and jacket emphasized the slenderness of her waist, and the knee length pencil skirt was modest, and matched her jacket, giving her a silhouette that was sensual and refined, but also gave the air of professionalism and the classic vibe of a woman of conservative appeal. She wore black pumps with curvy shape which showed her small delicate form and the raised heels which made her appear even taller than she already was, and also gave her legs more attention, attempting to draw away from her tight and gentle rump. She wore simplistic makeup, with liner emphasizing her enchanting two toned eyes, and she sat at her gate, crossing her legs, sitting up straight as she removed her reading glasses and began to read a book, a wonderful novel she had become immersed in before. She then attempted to make a last minute call to the practice where she was once a resident to ensure that everything was well, and to see how her friends were.

“Hello, Nessa? It’s me, Doctor Reza, have you sent the case files to me?” As she set the book on her lap she realized she was being watched, her smooth raven locks were tied into a pony tail and she brushed the loose strand over her ear, and she saw a man watching her with a smile. She blushed and modestly folded her hands in her lap with a coy and demure expression as a man flirtatiously winked at the doctor as she. slid her carry on, a bit, keeping from looking him in the eye, focusing on the call. “I see, well wish everyone well for me, I’ve my own life to sort out, and while I appreciate your sentiments, there are times when helping a patient takes priority over such trifles. Yes, please fax what you can when I call you with the fax number I get when I arrive. We’re going to need a large collections of psychological inventory sheets, the SMPI, and the sample.” She continued until she saw those green eyes, a reflection of her father staring back at her. “Right, I will call you when I arrive on location. In the meantime hold the fort. Good luck, I’m sure you’re ready to handle it on your own, Nessa.” She hung up her phone and looked into those green eyes, which was pronouncedly expressionless. The face resembled how she would imagine her father would look like in his youth, with that same pronounced chin, and sharp cheekbones.

“Davos...” She murmured as she approached him as he sat by a pastry stand in the airport, following her along. “I know how you must feel right now, but I have no choice.” Amyris said to the younger man who appeared to be in his twenties.

“There’s always a choice, Amy, but the choice you made was to follow the path father set before you. I cannot begrudge that, and I am not mad at you, I just wish things would be different. I wish mother might be more supportive, more understanding. I’m sure she will fold once you find a handsome man of good standing and have children bu-”

“I am not even sure if I want that, and I am already older. past the prime age one should be considering children, I feel like I have denied mother that one chance to plan a wedding, and to plan a child blessing. With father dead, she has no chance to… she has no one left who will look after her when she finally gets the fruit of venerable age.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m still here you know! I am planning to find myself a pretty wife, so mother may get her wish still. Perhaps then she will calm down and forgive you, and welcome you home. I know this could in no way be easy for her either. She must feel like she is losing a child.” the young man said as he pulled his warm woolen sweater tighter over his muscular body. “Try and understand how she must feel too, but don’t let this stop you from pursuing happiness. She’s feeling the bird leaving the nest syndrome. For so long you lived just across the street from her, you’d share lunch together, and share and discuss your dreams, but then mother began to dream for you, dreams she wanted for herself.”

There was a pregnant silence which was broken as her flight was called to board passengers and she let out a soft whisper.

“Davos…” she hugged her brother. “Take care of mother for me, and be well little brother. If this does not pan out, I will return, and if it does pan out, I hope to make father proud.”

He returned the hug and stoically attempted to withhold his emotions, but shed tears despite his desire to cheer his sister up. “He’s always proud of you, La’stana and Mother is too, even if she is loath to admit it. Go in peace, and happiness.”

She took with her her carry on and rolled it to her gate, presented her ticket and boarded the airplane, and after being left to her thoughts, she felt the pull of the plane shoot through the clouds, heading to unfamiliar lands which awaited her. As the flight passed her way through to New Edom, she carefully read her culture guide to New Edom, and attempted to familiarize herself with the societal norms more and prepare herself for the plunge of culture shock she was likely to endure.

New Edom has compulsory nudity due to their belief in a form of Christianity. For your average citizen they will be nude most of the time, wearing little but that which protects one from the elements. While foreigners can get waivers, it would mark me as an outsider, and that would be off-putting to my patients who will expect me to be respectful of them and their religion, so I will have to try.. to do what is expected of your average Edomite… to connect and build rapport. I can do this! she thought as she took a deep breath and looked at her clothing. She was used to modesty, and some among her in their culture were especially demanding about modesty. She stood up, removed her reading glasses and tucked them in their pouch and placed the pouch in her purse, drawing attention to the enchanting colors of green and blue which glistened with wide focus and the long and dark lashes, the liner emphasizing that exotic downturned shape, making them seem catlike.

She looked at the button on her jacket, and removed her jacket, one sleeve at a time, observing the lightness upon her body once removed. She blushed as she began to unbutton her scoop neck blouse, looking at the skin underneath. It was familiar to her, but she had never opened it to anyone, it was never so exposed before, and she had never felt so immodest, which made her hug herself, reaching from her shoulders before instinctively mustering the courage to unbutton her blouse, her cleavage showing with each button until completely removed, exposing her very full and robust breasts, still supported by the silken undergarments she wore beneath the blouse.

[i]I can do this, it should be well, I can do this. I have the courage to do so[i] she repeated to herself in her mind as she pulled the hair tie, and released her hair, which fell behind her back, and ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it as she then ran her hands down her neck, and reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra. The lack of support surprised her, giving her a little bit of shock as back pain hit her suddenly as she did not think they would be so heavy as they fell out of the confining undergarment with a slight bounce. She then slid her hands down, smoothing her skin with her hands, as if she were pulling a skin-tight invisible garment before she placed her thumbs over her hips tucking them into her skirt as she carefully slipped off the skirt, and she then removed it, exposing her garter belt, stockings and panties. She unstrapped the garter belt allowing her sheer lacy stockings to easily be removed by carefully running her dainty hands from her thighs and slipping off her pumps and her stockings one at a time. Then she pinched her silken panties and tugged them with her smoothly manicured nails slightly scraping her skin as she removed them. She was now as bare as could be, and she was blushing as she tried to remember this would be a norm once she stepped outside of the plane. She set her pumps into her carry on and replaced them with a pair of pair of sandals which were comfortable, and still curvy to emphasize her small feet.

“Here it goes. To New Edom, to help my patient.” She said to herself as she collected herself and composed herself with dignity.

The International Airport
The City of Finneberg in Bara Province

As she reached Finneberg, the capital city of New Edom, she was surprised by how heavily populated and dense the city as she watched from the window in her descent. From the, the villas and and bungalows, to the apartment buildings, it reminded her of home with a strange design as there appeared to be little to no wood use in the construction, but the tall buildings were much more like the kind of structures she had seen in smaller cities. While the enormous palace like structures she had heard of in the Northlands back in Seeleländer. The Cathedrals were beautiful and eye catching, with her eyes widely watching like a child spotting a falling star for the first time. The large churches and some larger government buildings made her feel like she was in the great city of Nifleheim. The small parks contrasted from what appeared to be largely urban and the ground appeared to be a strange color to her. She saw a large river that flanked the city flowing east and north around it, and made a mental note to go see what that area was once she had free time.

The airport resembled the one in Niflheim with its art deco style and crystal like glass and steel working together to create a beautiful visual effect that projected the future . As she stepped out of the plane she could see the lounges, cafes and shops, and she then hailed a taxi to take her to Saint Anselm’s where she would work. She passed by the ruined edifices which were older and run down, and she wondered to herself what sort of urban planner had left buildings in such disrepair. The people appeared to resemble Merovani and Baniri people to her surprise, with scattered Anumians which seemed to stroll around without even the slightest fear of immodesty. As she paid the driver and approached Saint Anselm’s she headed inside, the smooth floors were much nicer to step upon, and she saw there were other Interviewees along with her.

Dr. Sindrik reminded her of her friend Nessa’s uncle, with his glasses, so Amyris was immediately struck with a positive reception to him. Paul Gath,Undersecretary with the Ministry of Health, seemed to her like he had also been weathered by stress of some sort, and she did take a moment to consider the other woman with dark hair in a pageboy cut, at first glance youthful and ripe bodied up close clearly a remarkably healthy looking woman in her late forties, wearing a dark red sweater and long grey skirt, but she had not introduced herself, so she took a moment to introduce herself.

“I am, Doctor Amyris Rezanic, of the Central Caduceus Hospital in Tamrir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Gath was clearly the chief host, and offered welcome as well as condolences for a long journey.

"Such a long journey--I hope I can offer you some refreshments--some mint tea with honey perhaps? Some fizzy water with lime, or lemon, or perhaps blackberry juice? And we also of course have excellent spring water and delicious Nalayan coffee, we have a wonderful coffee maker here. And ah, lemon biscuits, cinnamon biscuits, candied fruit...please relax and enjoy. I am and I think we all are honoured that you have come this far."

“The Honor is mine, thank you.. I think I will have the Juice and lemon biscuits.” Amyris said as she took the refreshments happily.

"It is important" the woman, Nemone Jarris who was from the Ministry of Health also, "That we have foreign expertise, which is greater than ours in this area, and someone successful. It is not only the difficulty of the position, but of course there is the possibility of failure." she cocked her head. "What do you say to that?"

“Failure is something that I do not believe will happen. My methodology is tried and true, and has worked cross culturally, with replicable results. I have confidence that it will be something that will be successful, and I have faith in its efficacy.”

"Then there is the security issue," Dr. Sindrik added. "You would be under surveillance, to be honest. How do you feel about that?"

“That is standard procedure where I come from, as it is important to protect the patient and the doctor from liability, and to protect against misconduct.” Amyris said with a nod of her head. “This does not trouble me.”

"What support staff do you believe you would need in order to perform this job?" asked Undersecretary Garth.

“I shall need contact with the patient’s specialists, his or her general practitioner, an endocrinologist, a physical therapist, a masseuse, and designated instructor of posturing kinesthetics.”

“A masseuse?” said Dr. Sindrik.

“A person who offers massages. The patient will need to have a highly peaceful and welcoming environment at all times, I’d ask for more staff, but I do not know the preferences of my client, but all of it will end up being very helpful. We shall take a holistic approach with her recovery.” Doctor Amyris said with a nod of her head. “The purpose of a masseuse is to help the patient be able to feel relaxed by having regular muscle relaxation therapy and applied physical therapy.”

“An endrocrinologist?” said Ms. Jarris.

“An Endocrinologist is a doctor which examines the hormones in the body. If hormones are being released improperly there are various results that could happen which would affect our patient immensely. If our patient is a man, the disappearance of testosterone and rising Rh5 hormones can lead to balding, which in turn can lead to even more problems. To ensure that the body is in functioning order, we will need a full medical staff ready to offer the patient regular testing.”

“A physical therapist? said Paul Gath. “And what’s a designated instructor of posturing...what? What do you need all that for?” he asked, frowning, more as though in puzzlement than in any offense.

“A physical therapist is there to aid the patient in the practice of regulated physical activity, so that the patient can be monitored for various triggers and health issues. We will also need various necessary tools in order to keep the patient at ease with regards to health. If the patient is truly facing post traumatic stress disorder, and they are a soldier or a victim of a terrible tragedy, then physical activity will be very difficult for them to do. It’ll be emotionally a problem and a therapist will need to be there to monitor them for vitals and to ensure that the patient remains healthy and doesn’t feel like he or she is left alone to their thoughts which could cause terrifying circumstances. We still do not know if our patient has once contemplated suicide. This could be a very terrifying reality.”

The three interviewers looked at one another and then Sindrik cleared his throat. “Yes. We will make sure that they are available. We will possibly consult you on the matter.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page, Milords.” Amyris said with a nod of her head.

"You mentioned medicines--what is your typical approach to using medical therapy with a PTSD/depressive patient? What kinds of medication have you found effective, and under what kinds of circumstances?" asked Dr. Sindrik.

"A wonderful question, my answer is the following: this depends very much on the patient. Different patients have different needs. I would need to know the patient's medical history to ensure that there is a personalized treatment, I'd need to know any current medicines that the patient regularly or currently takes to ensure there is no interactions with the medication I shall prescribe, I would need to know any allergies that the patient may have to medications. As well it will be important to know the patient's age and gender to ensure that this may or may not require a consult by an endocrinologist, I would need to administer regular physical examinations and would need blood tests to ensure that there are no adverse side effects such as weight gain, changes in blood pressure, or various other potential but uncommon side effects." She said with a dismissive wave and tone of voice which indicated the risks were low.

"I would need to know if my patient is a woman if she is an expectant mother, or plans to have a child in the immediate future to restrict the medication to what would be safe for her and her fetus, I would also need to know if the patient regularly participates in risk-taking activities, which will mean I will need to carefully monitor and control the doses of medicine to ensure that the patient does not get complications from combining recreational drugs with the prescription drugs she is taking. In short, Doctor, there's no shortages of approaches nor is there a one-size-fits-all treatment for any respective patient. However in each case I have mentioned, I do know how to issue the respective medications which will indeed address any and all issues that could come up. Thank you for asking, but as a general rule to answer your question sertraline and paroxetine show great promise for clinical treatment as it will help with the sleep difficulties and concentration problems, and then prazosin to help suppress nightmares. Alprazolam shall be used to treat the anxiety for the short term before moving to fluoxetine or citalopram, IF it is solely Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. There may be underlying mood disorders that are also not readily apparent or other factors we are missing, we will need to address them carefully, so a very proper diagnosis must be made with regard to the patient, which is why this must be considered carefully before a single medication is taken. For expectant mothers, Tricyclics are very good and carries almost no risk at all for a fetus, but it rules out certain MAOIs and Paroxetine which makes it easier to rule out certain things for certain people."

“The patient is a woman,” said Dr. Sindrik, making some notes. “That all sounds very thorough. The patient is also in good health, and is not pregnant according to a recent checkup of…” he glanced at notes. “Two weeks ago. Of course things could have changed since then--but I doubt it.”

“Good, this allows me to narrow down what we can offer the patient, and she will be in good hands.” Doctor Amyris said with a smile.

“As to the physician, that will easily be arranged,” said Ms. Jarris with a smile.

“Wonderful, this will be a very easy task for us to work together on, and with the cooperation of the staff and the proper settings, the patient will very likely have a good chance of recovery. I’ve rarely seen anything go wrong with this form of treatment before, and when there has been complications it has often been due to lack of patient monitoring, which is why it cannot be emphasized more that the patient must be kept carefully monitored for the first three months of therapy, and we will reassess after the first three months. For the first week, her medicine will be difficult to adjust to, but I am sure it will be an easy to manage thing once we get past the first week without incident, and after the first week if there is no significant change, we will alter the regimen until we find the one that works for the patient, and continue with the talk therapy, which will be of cognitive behavioral bend, and she will be actively engaged in her own recovery, which always is encouraging to the patient, as it builds confidence and gives them back a feeling of control they feel they have lost.”

'You have mentioned guilt and shame as part of PTSD. Can you explain how you see that as causing problems for a patient?" asked Ms. Jarris.

“Yes, often when a patient has post traumatic stress disorder, they see themselves as the center of blame for everything that has happened with regard to their trauma, and the power of this negative emotion becomes toxic and can lead to a very dangerous Major Depressive Episode in which the patient becomes at risk for self-harm or suicide attempts. I presume the patient is under close watch and is monitored? If not, this must be considered immediately to be enforced. The power of guilt and shame can be overwhelming especially if the patient felt completely helpless to their circumstances at the time. There’s a powerful danger to be held in misplaced guilt, which can be terminal, fatal to the one that experiences it.”

"You say that systematic eye movement desensitization and reprocessing have shown promise in your field, but they are not definitive, doctor?" asked Ms. Jarris.

“They are not one hundred percent definitive, but they are also one of the least invasive treatments which is thankfully very good in my experience of having applied them. The patient is in good hands, and I can assure you, and I will be as considerate to the needs of the patient, and I will ensure that compassionate care is the priority of what will be due. That which works shall be used, that which does not work, shall not be used. We will do the least invasive methods before considering any other invasive methods, above all, we will respect the patient’s bodily integrity, their faith, and we will ensure that the patient’s safety is also considered a priority. This means at times in the name of compassion we will need to have the patient undergo uncomfortable situations such as confronting their past. There may also be need for potential rehabilitation as people with post traumatic stress often self medicate and take drugs or alcohol to try and keep from being on edge all the time.”

“Thus is monitoring and negative reinforcement essential but this is part of the healing process, and will help the patient grow in a healthy manner, it will transform themselves into a stronger person, able to handle the terrible ordeals life pushes us to confront.Sadly, for those with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the world becomes a terrifying and harrowing ordeal that can trigger the worst memories of the patient forcing them to relive it as if it was happening in the moment. While we cannot reasonably remove the patient from all the triggers realistically, we can teach the patient how to cope with their struggle in a healthy way, because however powerful the patient may be, the world cannot change itself to adapt to the patient. This requires that we must transform the patient from within, by changing habits, behaviors, and thought patterns which are harmful to them. Now… is there any further questions you may have for me?”

The three glanced at one another, and Paul Gath smiled. “I think you’ve been very thorough, Doctor, thank you very much. Dr. Rezanic . Your conviction and determination, your passion and resolve are very impressive. We have others we are interviewing. We have booked rooms for you in the Majestic Hotel which I believe you will find relaxing and accommodating; we will contact you tomorrow with our decision following our review of the other candidates."


“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen.” She said as she curtsied, not offering her hand, as it was not her custom to shake hands. Nor was it customary for her to touch unrelated men she wasn’t interested in having sex with. This, she would find, was normal in New Edom--hand holding was tolerated with foreigners but it was generally considered an act of intimacy and bows were preferred.

He stood up and offered a bow (New Edomites rarely seemed to do handshakes). "Thank you so much for coming. Ms. Jarris, would you please see the doctor out?"

"Certain, sir," she said, rising and smilingly guiding her to the door.

"Good luck," she said quietly with a smile at her. "I think you will be a good fit, between you and me, it was a pleasure to have met you." she inclined her head politely and departed back in.

A driver was waiting for her outside. The driver seemed to be a very dark skinned soldier with shaven head, from Dengali, with a broad yet small nose, full lips, high cheekbones and slightly folded eyes, with two chevrons on the sleeve of a green uniform that was a double breasted jacket, shirt and tie, trousers and polished shoes along with a billed cap, with a strong featured face and polite, alert attentive expression. She touched the brim of her cap as she opened the door for Dr. Rezanic. The car was a chunky black Chaika with somewhat worn but comfortable cloth seats and smelled faintly of lemon and soap. "Doctor, I am Corporal Abdi, National Army Logistics Corps, your designated driver. Majestic Hotel, Your Honour?" she said with a faint musical accent in her voice.

“I’d be glad for the ride, I’ve found that the Edomites are just as charming as I had heard, and I am feeling quite optimistic. Is there internet in the Majestic Hotel? I’d very much like to send a message to my friend and my family. I haven’t yet procured a plan to make calls long distance, which I will have to do eventually. I would also need to check and see if they will take my bank card, if not, I’ll need to wire a transfer online to one locally. It’s important to have money in the city, after all?” She asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes, Your Honour will find internet and I believe phone cards and all that sort of thing at the hotel, I think they have an internet cafe there too, all the comforts for the commercial traveler,” said Corporal Abdi with a smile into the rear view mirror as she started the car with a few coughs and clunks, and then drove her off towards the hotel.

[Seelelander]

From the Ministry of Health

To: Doctor Amyris Rezanic

Congratulations on being hired by the Ministry of Health as a mental health professional under the Directorate of Mental Health.

We have included with this letter the appropriate forms for:
1. Recommendation for a temporary fellowship with the Royal College of Physicians of New Edom. This will enable you to receive publications and maintain important contacts within the medical profession here in New Edom.

2. Registration for Worker's Risk and Health Compensation from the Union of Medical Health Workers.

3. Recommendations to banks in New Edom which have automatic payment registrations.

4. Official Crisis Waiver form for travel and release from any issues with the Compulsory Nudity Act (which only comes into effect during times of emergency now)

5. Ministry of Health official registration and receiving of salary under Mental Health Commission via Director Nemone Jarris.

You are all invited to a meeting at Saint Anselm's Medical Health Center at 9AM tomorrow; please be advised that this will be an all day meeting with a lunch break which will be provided at the center, and that there will be a meeting following discussion and orientation with supervisory staff and following this with the patient.

sincerely,
Paul Gath, Undersecretary of Health

Saint Anselm's

The following day, Doctor Amyris Rezanic was brought by her government appointed chaikas to the meeting, and were ushered into the same room, but found more chairs and more people arriving at the same time. In addition to the three officials she had already met, there was a grey bearded man in black robes as well as a young man in a naval uniform.

"Thank you for coming," said Gath. "A pleasure to meet with you again. I hope you had a pleasant evening and good night's rest. Very glad that you were among those hired."

"Prince Enoch, Father Emmaeus, this is Doctor Amyris Rezanic. We feel that she will be suitable for the job at hand," said Gath with a smile.

The young man nodded to her. His dark eyes stared at her, as though he was sizing her up. He was tall and athletic, moved with deliberate gestures, and it was noted that the three officials, Gath, Sindrik and Jarris only sat down after he did. "I am Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, Royal Master of Offices. I am the Queen's cousin by marriage, and my duty is to run the royal household and act as the key liaison to the national government. This gentleman is Father Emmaeus, the Royal Physician. You have been hired, with as much discretion as was deemed possible, to assess and help Queen Mara with what are believed to be psychological issues." He paused, waiting for any reaction, and continued. "The purpose of this meeting is to determine a plan for dealing with. this. While you will be in contact with Father Emmaeus and have the advice of the three who have graciously acted as our guides in determining the right people, it is ultimately hoped that your objective approach will be the most helpful." Taking a deep breath, he seemed to gather strength before saying, "The Queen is subject to an enormous melancholy but not always--it is also that she suffers from terrible nightmares and terrors that seem entirely real to her when experiencing them, to the point where she only sleeps when--to be blunt, either intoxicated or exhausted. She is reluctant to see anyone or speak to anyone. Her faith and family..." he swallowed and looked away a moment. "Her faith, family and friends provide her with no comfort. She is reluctant to see her husband, the King Consort Michael, to whom she has been married only a short time. I am among the few of her extended family she will see, and I have been unable to help her.

"This is the reason for the security concerns and the concerns about publishing any information. It could on many levels be damaging if there is lack of consideration for the safety of the Queen's person and reputation." he paused and looked at her again."Before I continue, I would like to know if there are any questions or concerns from any of you so far. Following that, you will be given an opportunity to meet the Queen and speak with her, as well as see a video of the previous interviews with members of the team already selected.”

“You are right for your choice of Discretion, Your Highness, and Your Holiness, I’m pleased to hear that Her Majesty is seeking help, as it is very important in these sensitive times that she be careful to keep the morale of the country high, and if she is having this amount of difficulty not only with intimacy, with her regular life, and her ability to function it makes this situation all the more dire that we ensure Her Majesty’s health is kept at the utmost priority. Has the staff I requested been brought to the Palace? I would like to take a moment to write up a report, but only after I am able to have a discussion with Her Majesty. The important issue is she must not under any circumstances believe she is being watched while we have our discussions. She relies on the confidence that our discussions are kept confidential, and this will allow her to open up to much more than she already has. She’s already made a breakthrough in admitting that she has been having difficulty with intimacy with her Husband. This is a difficult thing for a woman of her stature to admit, and it was brave. The therapist, that one, his efforts are commendable. He has a very good way of building rapport with the patient. In the meantime, when shall I be permitted to hold an audience with Her Majesty?”

“Her Majesty will be able to meet with you shortly,” said Prince Enoch; he nodded in approval at the choice of her earlier words. “I’m afraid this will be a little rushed today--not the interview but the schedule. We are moving her immediate estate to her private one at Padan-Aran. Are you free to come as well?”

“Happily your Highness, I am always at your service and disposal. Please, if I may ask you but a few questions, just a matter of propriety. You mentioned that the difficulties Her Majesty has been having began after her Honeymoon, correct?” Amyris asked. “And this was when you noticed her decline. It is important to remember that Her Highness’s Dignity must be carefully preserved, if you remember times before she has become withdrawn, do you remember when they were? It is recurring same condition, or has it become progressively worse from your eyes?”

Prince Enoch frowned in consideration. “Doctor, I think I might prefer for you to ask Her Majesty that. I’ve gotten a little experience with this sort of thing recently,” he smiled an easy charming smile, “And I think that while I am happy to make sure that you have background information and all that--that Her Majesty’s experience is the key. I don’t wish to prejudice this in any way or speak on her behalf. What I know is what I told you. The particular circumstances--well there are notes from my talk with Dr. Weinstein.”

Father Emmaeus had watched all this impassively, his eyes flicking at Enoch’s at the name. “All this staff you want,” he said sternly. “It had better be worth it. More invasions of the Queen’s person by more medical professionals,” he said with a grimace at the last words. “It seems like the more of you psychiatrists there are the more mentally ill people there are. However Her Majesty wants this, His Highness wants it, and I support it. Enough said from me. What am I--just the Royal Physician. Just an old fool.”

“Hardly that, Father. You embarrass the good doctor, she is only doing the job she is engaged to do,” said Ms. Jarris demurely.

“Father, you have been completely invaluable in your pledge, and I wouldn’t even consider getting something for Her Majesty if I wasn’t sure it would work, and while you may think I am here to displace you, I cannot strongly emphasize otherwise. Your help will be crucial to keeping Her Majesty’s morale high. She has trusted you for so long, and few have shown the loyalty and care you have taken. I stand in your shadow, but I will only remember that I am here to Supplement your hard work. Your job is not yet done, Holiness. I look forward to working with you, and am glad you have told me your concerns. I am sure that people trust Psychiatrists worldwide, and some may not, but what is important is that this is about neither of us, this is about the Queen of New Edom, and securing the prosperous future of the realm and the Happiness of a woman that deserves to have a life much more different from the one she is afflicted by. With luck, and the will of God, she will come to see reason, and with the great compassion you hold, you can be sure she will turn to you, and have faith in your skills as well.”

Father Emmaeus seemed a bit mollified by this response. He looked at Prince Enoch and said, “I see no reason not to continue at this stage of things. I of course agree with Her Majesty’s view that this could be very helpful--whatever my personal doubts, I will naturally fulfill my oaths unto death.”

“None could doubt it, Father,” said Prince Enoch. “Ms. Jarris, please inform Her Majesty we are ready.”

Dr. Sindrik took out a cigarette and lit it.

A few moments later, a black Pommeranian came into the room, followed by Queen Mara herself, who was wearing a pink sundress and naked high heeled sandals, her dark hair flowing behind her, a slim naked Elwe girl holding the door open for her. Ms. Jarris slipped in behind.

“Your Majesty, this is the new doctor we told you about,” said Paul Gath, bowing.

Mara studied her. “Oh, she’s lovely. You’re lovely! How do you do? Welcome to New Edom! Another one? My goodness, so many medical staff people now--how many am I to have?” she said with a laugh, going to sit down.

“Alas, many more Your Majesty, but it is merely a precaution to ensure that we have everyone we need to treat you to the best of our abilities. Now, allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Amyris Rezanic, and I come from the noble nation of Seeleländer. It is a quiet place, but one that is lovely and very comfortable for me, but I became bored of the quiet.” She said with a smile. “And what is this charming little fellow’s name?” She asked as she knelt and held her hand out to let the dog sniff her hand, knowing dogs needed to get a sense of submission, and to also get the idea that she, Amyris posed no threat to anyone. It was also a fuzzy black puffball she desired to pet, but that was another story.

Precious seemed to like the lady, and sniffed at her hands and her feet, then put his paws on her legs, lifting his tiny black nose, bright eyes peering up at her.

“This is Precious, my best friend in all the world--well I’m sorry Enoch, it’s true!” said Mara, beaming. “He likes you! Well that’s always a good sign. Oh my gosh, did you say many more? I’ll try to put up with it I guess...duty, right? Well did you have to leave family to come here? I hope it won’t be too lonely or strange for you…”

“I have a little brother, and a mother. My father died sadly recently, just before I could finish my residency, he never got the chance to see that moment where I would finally honor him by following that path he wanted for me. Sometimes things are just that way. I had many more friends behind, as my father’s brother had died of the same thing my father did. They had difficulties with heart disease much of their life, but then again, I was glad my father lasted as long as he did. Time is short, as they say. As for lonely, pish posh, I get the chance to hold your company, and the company of many others. If anything we’ll probably have a jolly time, I’d imagine. I’ve called for some masseuses and some physical therapists, and for some positional instructors who shall give us a chance to give you some good treatment for your body, and then there are those like me and a few others who are here for you, to help you throughout the way.” She said as she stroked the pomeranian affectionately, blushing as she did love those fluffy little puffball foxes. They were adorable, and she had always wanted one, but it was impossible to get one. “Now, how about we find a nice place where we can make ourselves comfortable, and you can tell me a little about yourself. Things that you would certainly consider are really who you are. Nothing as a matter of expectation or duty, but who you are.”

Mara went rather still as she spoke about her father, though without much of a sign of any feelings apart from that. She said quietly, “That sounds very sad,” and listened almost absently to her. Her expression still looked kindly upon her though. Precious wriggled happily during the patting. “Well, that seems fine I guess…” she said dubiously about the medical professionals. She got up decisively. “Let’s walk in the garden. There’s a little garden here. Precious, viens-ici!” The little dog ran up to her, looking up eagerly, and the naked Elwe girl opened the door for them.

The garden was indeed little, but there was room to walk around, there were benches, and there were spindly fig trees, spreading cedars, a flowing willow and beds of tulips and crocuses of soft colors of green, yellow and blue, as well as a little fountain in the center. Some small colourful finches scattered as the human beings and dog arrived. Mara smiled softy. “I love finches, they’re like little toys. God Doctor, I’m already sick of talking about me...I feel weird doing it…”

“It can be hard to do, can’t it? Sometimes people find themselves going around in circles not sure what to say about themselves. How about you tell me something that you consider a fun thing you usually like to do?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and she took notes as she made sure to write down things she needed to remember.

Mara said wistfully, as she sat down and smoothed her skirt casually under her thighs on one of the smooth wooden benches while Precious went sniffing about the flowers, “I think going to the seashore. Whether it’s swimming, boating, fishing, having a party...one of my favourite things. I have a glass bottom yacht as well as this great speedboat for windsurfing or water skiing. I like snorkeling better than scuba diving I think--gosh all that equipment, you feel like you’re dressing for the most wet ungaily victorian ball. You know...put on this, okay have someone help you put on that, make sure you have that on right. Swimming is best done with nothing on at all, I feel like, you know? And the warm feeling of sand under your feet, and swimming is my favourite exercise...maybe tennis and riding after that...and I like a fire on the beach...I like sailing too...I wish I could just do that every day and just do that...but that’s kind of selfish of me…”

“Why do you feel it is selfish of you to do things you enjoy?” The green eyed lady asked as she brushed aside her dark locks from her face, as her bangs while long could whip and cover her eyes, and it would annoy her under such circumstances. “Every day we live, and the moment we have right now is a moment we can never get back, and if you take all those moments and look back, would you say you’d be happier if you had taken time to enjoy them? Cherish them more than you might have?”

Mara sighed. “I…” she paused. Her eyes seemed to go far away. “I don’t know. It seems like there’s a mist around that. I don’t know where my happiness went, it’s like...I could pretend, like an actress...to enjoy all that, even laugh and all that...and then the moment it was over it would be just...grey again.”

“A mist, huh? That’s something very interesting. Do you remember the first time you started feeling this way?” The Merovani woman asked as she made a careful note.

Mara took a deep breath...as she did it contrasted very much with the lack of deep breathing she had been doing, she rubbed at a supple arm smooth with feminine strength and said, “You know what...I’m losing my tone...Gosh I need to work out more...you’re right about that. Mist? oh my gosh I can’t even remember. I remember…” she put a hand to her throat a moment, then dropped it to her lap. “I guess when my father died.” she said almost lightly. “He was killed by Communists, you know. Did you know about that?”

“Communists are barbarians, and this is something that I am not the least surprised about. Where were you when this happened? Do you remember?” The doctor said as she wrote down notes furiously.

Mara bit her lip. “I...I was at Quality Bay. My father was meeting with the Economic Reform Committee...I remember because they were going to review the Skyfarm Project and I was going to talk to him about it when he came to the estate after. Enoch’s father was there too. Then...well I don’t do very well at meetings,” Mara explained, “So I didn’t like to go, I always feel stupid hearing people use economist jargon and stuff like that, so I decided to stay home. I did a workout , went for a swim and I was on an air mattress at the pool when my maid Tegan came to me, and she was bawling, and she’d just had a stiff drink, and I could barely get it out of here, and I found out that my Papa had been killed.”

“You were lucky to have survived, if you had been there it is possible you could have died as well, and now your decision to take time to enjoy yourself, very much saved your life. But I must ask, Your Majesty, do you still feel safe now that the ordeal has passed, or do you still feel unsafe?”

“I feel...safer...ER….”Mara said hesitantly. “My cousin...Perrin Pahath-Moab, he runs the government--he’s done a lot to make me and my family safer. I guess so yes. Why?”

“Sometimes when something as tragic as a murder happens in one’s family, it can make the people who survived feel like they’re still not safe, even when they are shown all the protection in the world, it takes one similar memory to bring back something you thought had passed, for you to relive that same horror all over again. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. Have you ever experienced that before?”

“I...I hate hearing news. I hate hearing a knock at the door.” Mara smiled ruefully.”Isn’t that stupid? I feel like...when I am near water, I’ll have something happen. I hate hearing the phone ring…” she brushed a strand or two of silky dark hair from her face. “I don’t know, I sometimes feel like when those things happen that I might start screaming and never stop, or like I can’t move at all..like I have to tell myself to move and talk.”

“I can see why you could feel this way, it certainly is something that is understandable. I would feel the same if I were in your situation. But thankfully we can talk now about something a bit more positive. Tell me a bit about your plans for the future. What you desire for yourself.” The doctor said as she took careful notes.

Mara looked up at the clouds across the blue sky and blew her breath out, thinking, and then back at Amyris. “I...I guess I want to see my country continuing to do better. Like having no one be hungry or homeless, having peace. I want to somehow get along with my husband, though I don’t know how at all, and with my family better. I have this horse...well I have a couple, but I have this one that’s really my own...I feel bad about not taking him out more. It’s just hard to even feel like doing it. I want to stay in good shape...I get chubby way too easy, I’m already getting flabby again…”

“What do you feel about your husband makes you feel uncomfortable?” The Merovani doctor asked as she tilted her head in confusion. “Do you feel he is attractive, is he not emotionally connected to your feelings? How do you feel he approaches you in your relationship?”

“My husband,” Mara smiled quickly, her eyes distant. “He’s a kind man. A considerate lover. He’s very passionate. He’s very romantic. He’s a good athlete. But it’s like he missed the memo about this being an arranged marriage,” she said, looking at Amyris. “He wants me to be in love with him. He looks at me...like...a cat looking at a canary. A nice cat though. You know...I used to really like to blow off steam, kid around and stuff--I can tell it bugs him, he can’t really like, gel with it. On our wedding night, he wanted things…” she giggled. “That sounds awful.” Mara went into a bit of a routine, pretending to be a young woman with the vapours. “‘My husband wants me to do disgusting things in bed!’ and then being a gruff older man, “Now darling, he is your husband! Now you do them disgusting things!’” Mara laughed. “No, seriously, he wanted it to be all deep gazes and passion...but I don’t even really know him, I was just getting to know him. So I started goofing around, jumping on the bed, stuff like that, thinking he’d get teased and chase me around--and HE started jumping on the bed and laughing,even though he didn’t mean it. When he was courting me, Enoch told him I liked doing fun things like flash mobs. So he did one...exactly the same one I had a few days earlier. I mean it was sweet but I felt totally crazy. I feel crazy when I talk to him. It’s like I can’t just be myself in my own home.”

“Have you told him that you feel he is coming onto too strong?” The Doctor asked as her eyebrow raised. “Sometimes communication can be a powerful tool. You’ve the ability to take a chance and speak to him truthfully. Be honest about how you feel, and how you want his expectations to match reality. It’ll be empowering, and you won’t feel so constricted.”

Mara sighed. “I don’t know if it will do any good. I can try I guess. But i mean...it’s been talked about. I can try maybe…I feel tired just thinking about it. I feel like...like he doesn’t really love me…me, anyway. like he just likes how I look and my title. Why can’t that be okay? I can live with that--I didn’t expect anything else anyway.”

“You want him to understand your real feelings, to get to know him, to get a chance to actually be friends, to get a chance to fall in love normally. But, I must ask… how long have arranged marriages been a custom?” The lady asked.

“Centuries,” Mara said, her lips starting to tighten. “Look, the Ghantar make arranged marriages, and then they want people to magically fall in love like it’s some kind of bloody movie. My parents had an arranged marriage, they were perfectly happy until those damned commies killed my father. My husband...oh my gosh I get agitated just thinking of him. And I have a plane to catch soon...and I think so do you.” she got up. “Doctor...thank you for coming.” she said, a smiling coming to her face again.

“Things will look up, Your Majesty, there is good to come.” The Merovani smiled with a bow of her head in respect offering proper obeisance.

[New Edom]

“…so the next item,” Princess Ava said, biting her lip as she looked at the quiz. “What do you have more of in your closet? Dresses, pants, skirts or shorts?”

Mara said nothing.

Ava looked at her. They were both in the hair salon at their exclusive private ladies’ club, getting styled before the Household headed to Padan-Aran. It was a bit of a ritual; while the press in New Edom tended to be polite they liked photographing royalty as they were going anywhere. Mara had come back to the palace seeming tense and irritated, snapped at Tegan,made her cry, ran after her and apologized while they wept in one another’s arms, then had announced that she hated her hair and wanted something done “…with my damn bangs! I’m tired of fussing, it’s like in the morning my hair is perfect, afternoon I’m always having to fuss with it!” Ava had told her that she’d come to the spa with her. Tegan was given the afternoon off and they would have Ava’s maid, who was nicknamed The Lily, would come with them. The Lily was lazy but patient—they called her that because she wilted like one—and she was better than Tegan for lounging around in the car with nothing to do but play with her phone in case they needed someone to go into a store for them.

“Hello—Earth to Mara?” Ava said. Ava was a bit of a big girl—she had more the traditional look Baran males had loved for centuries—she had a soft bottom and big bosom and slightly plump thighs and belly, cinnamon skin and slightly sloe dark eyes that had driven one Roman Caesar mad with love and desire. She was getting her dark hair in a very long updo with curly waves that made it cascade like silky midnight.

“I think Her Majesty drifts in the land of waking dreams, Highness,” said her stylist, a middle aged haranese. “If a dreamer dreams, shall she be wakened?”

“Well, she’s doing this quiz with me,” sighed Ava. “Oh well…I think I should have had the Lily in here making notes, this looks really complicated. And for what? No one’s ever going to marry me anyway…”

“There are three things that goeth well in hair styling, beloved Highness, murmured the brown skinned woman with heavy painted eyelids, her body bare but for sandals and pretty paint that resembled swimming blue and green waves. “Yea, four things that goeth comely in hair styling…extensions, hair pieces, padding, and buns. Why not have a bob or a Leck cut and do that?”

“No!” exclaimed Ava, putting her hand up in alarm. “Don’t even suggest it! No, don’t you have a video of it or something?”

“What are you two jawing about?” Mara suddenly said, turning. This caused her own stylist, a sharp tongued country Baran woman, the assistant head stylist, to exclaim,

“Mayeste, doan durnyer het!”going to her rutted patois without thinking.

“Sorry Hezipah,” said Mara. She had firmly insisted on strait bangs as a fringe upon her forehead, and a straight cut look to the sides so that she would not have to fuss about it at all. There had been wailing and gnashing of teeth, and pointing out of how naked her face would look in the sporty ponytail she liked to wear her hair in. Mara had been firm, though there had had to be reassurance of her recognition of Hezipath’s talents. “Where are we in the quiz?”

“Which do you prefer?” Ava asked her. “Dresses, pants, shorts or skirts?”

“Do gowns count as dresses?” Mara asked her.

Ava pondered. “Count them together,” she suggested.

“Dresses,” Mara said. “I have way more dresses than those others, it’s like I think…if I added up all my dresses and all my shorts and skirts and pants, I’d have as many dresses as the other ones.”

“Majesty’s tan lines are so beautiful because of it,” said Hezipah, her accent still strong but more intelligible.

“Oh thank you Hezipah,” sighed Mara. “That’s so reassuring. But they’re subtle, aren’t they?”

Hezipah hesitated; one didn’t like to say that the Queen had a peasant girl’s tanlines—unlike her cousin Ava or her sister Jocasta, who were creamy in their hidden areas like a lady. “Most sublte,” she finally said, reminding herself to go to confession after work.

“Alright,” said Ava, making a note. “Which do you prefer, super heels, heels, flats or barefoot?”

“Oh geeze, that’s a tough one,” Mara exclaimed absently.

“Hey, are you alright? Isn’t this any fun?” Ava asked her with concern.

“Oh,yeah, it totally is, honey, I’m sorry, I’m miles away, just thinking of the move…” Mara said, glancing but not moving her head. “No I’m just thinking too…thinking about the quiz! It’s tough…definitely I don’t prefer heels, but I love how they make me look…but wait a minute, like let’s say we took my favourite black strappy sandals—are those heels or sandals?”

Ava looked surprised. She blinked and took a deep breath. She tapped her pen on the page of the magazine. “Um…what do you think?” she asked the Haranese stylist.

“Is it not true that they are heels, Highness? If a man give a woman a fig, is it a date?” she replied, focusing on her task.

“A fig for you,” said Hezipah, shaking her head. “I say a sandal is a sandal. It is how they fit upon the foot, the raising of it is nothing. Especially if they are wedges.”

“See and I prefer wedges, and they’re not really the same thing,” Ava said eagerly. “Mara?”

“Oh, well, barefoot. I prefer barefoot.” Mara said finally with a sigh.

“Okay, I think we’re down to the last one: do you prefer bikinis, extreme bikinis, one pieces, going topless or nude on the beach?” Ava asked her.

“Nude of course,” Mara said. The two stylists rolled their eyes at one another. The Queen they had gossiped was a good woman—maybe a bit too much of the common touch. The local gossip was preference for Jocasta if the Queen really did abdicate, which some speculated she was planning to do. Jocasta, the women at the spa agreed, was more…queenly. But they also liked Mara a great deal.

Ava said, “Okay, I have to add all this up now.”

This took a while, and Mara closed her eyes. In the unusual silence soft music was heard playing—an instrumental of a jazzed up version of an old hymn.

Ava giggled. “What a surprise. It says: “You are a hippy chick flower child. You love a groovy free lifestyle of free love, free pot, and you only wear clothes if they’re fun and comfortable. Peace, baby!”

Mara laughed. “Yeah, what a shock.”

“All done, Majesty,” said Hezipath, offering her a hand mirror.

Mara frowned. “I look more severe. I look serious. All I need are glasses and I’ll look like Colleen Fish.”

“Hardly, Majesty. Do you like it?” asked Hezipah cautiously.

Mara frowned, touched it, turned her chin this way and that. “I’m not sure. You know what, I can’t decide anything lately. I look weird. I don’t look like me.” Suddenly she felt an unreasonable wave of anger that almost blinded her. Yet she knew this was unfair. “Hezipah,” she said, looking at her from the reflection, “I was rash about this. I want my hair in a high ponytail with waves in it. And…I need the bathroom.” She got up, and flung the cover aside, and walked bare as the stylists into the bathroom, turned on the fan, and sat down on the toilet and buried her face into her hands until she felt like things had stopped shaking.

Ava, outside, turned to the next article, which was about how to hire the right decorator for a party. She was handed a mirror as well and she smiled. “Oh, wow…I look so nice…” she smiled a little sadly. “Not that anyone will notice, but thank you so much…I’m just going to relax here till Mara is done if you don’t mind.”

The two stylists bowed deeply. The other waiting clients would not mind, especially since two of them were foreign diplomats’ wives, who were eager for a glimpse at the country’s royalty. It was a bit like a levee sometimes, really.

[New Edom]

Padan-Aran

Mara walked to the top of the hill overlooking a green valley of grape arbours, and shielded her eyes from the sun, peering out over it. The breeze lightly kissed her hair in its flowing ponytail and teased it. She looked down at where Precious was trundling along, sniffing at grasses and flowers. She smiled a little sadly and sat down. "Don't go far from me, Precious..."

"I'm so tired of troubles. Everywhere nothing but troubles, mine seem so petty and they devil me all the same. Doctors, doctors. Doctors in my mind, in my body, and...I wish I could just fly away..."

"You know Precious, when all the world is a hopeless jumble, and the raindrops tumble all around, Heaven opens a magic lane. When all the clouds jumble up the skyway, there's a rainbow highway to be found...leading from my window pane...to a place behind the sun, just a step beyond the rain..."

She sang softly, "Somewhere over the rainbow way up high....there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me...where troubles melt like lemon drops from way above the chimney tops....that's where you'll find me. Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly; if birds fly over the rainbow why then, oh why can't I?"

Mara then laughed. "So Precious, if I'm the girl and you're the dog...does that make Mama the Wicked Witch? And then Jocasta should be the Scarecrow...Elijah is the tinman, who should the lion be? Maybe Levi Dathan with all his fussing. Oh I don't know, now it doesn't work..."

Precious lost interest and began to chase a butterfly. She envied him.

[Hittanryan]

Padan-Aran
New Edom

Weinstein spent the rest of the first day on the phone with his wife, since she would be flying out soon and had most of the immediate concerns. While he continued filling out his evaluation of Mara, his wife Iris was busy figuring out what to do in terms of their property back home. She was a CPA who worked from home, and needed to inform her clients of a temporary change in address. Realizing she might be able to pick up some Edomite clients, she started looking into what kind of certification or licensing procedures existed in New Edom and what she'd have to do to continue her business while overseas.

Next Iris needed to figure out what to do with their house in Valles Port. Crunching some of the numbers, at one point she tearfully once reached the conclusion that it might make more sense money-wise to sell. Paying property taxes, bills, and the last of the mortgage on an empty house just didn't seem to add up at first. She couldn't bring herself to do it, however. Instead, before booking a flight, she started calling friends and family, explaining that Martin had just gotten a job overseas and asking if they wouldn't mind watching the house. Her sister came up with a better idea than taking it on the chin, however: rent the house to someone they trusted who would like a few months in a fully-furnished home. If it really came down to it, she knew a lawyer who could draw up a lease agreement.

The key was picking a renter, but eventually she remembered a nephew on Martin's side. A veteran recently discharged from the military, came back, married his girlfriend, and went to school. Apparently they couldn't wait to have a baby, either. When he came back they had the attitude that there was no time like the present. Their reasons were their own, though she was still going to school as well and had agreed with him wholeheartedly. Now he had an infant. Iris remembered him, an upstanding guy though he lacked focus, he volunteered during the last war. The girl was lively, though certainly a bit tired after the baby arrived. Iris called him, figured out what he was currently paying for rent at his apartment, offered him a bit lower rate if he'd pay the electric and phone bill. It wouldn't pay off all the expenses but would offset them, and she knew the place would be taken care of.

While Iris was dealing with all of that, Martin had to inform someone else. And at Iris' insistence, he had to be the one to do it. Arriving at Padan-Aran, he noted how it differed from Fineberg. This was a retreat from the capital, somewhere more fitting for a Queen. The accommodations were more than suitable for him, a good apartment already furnished.

Once he managed to get settled in, he made the phone call he knew he had to. Letting the phone rang, he hoped he was available. Eventually the other end came to life. "Hello? Dad?"

"Hey Ron. Where are you?"

"On base," he replied.

"Are you busy?"

"Not really, why?" his son asked, a little warily.

"Have you talked to your mom lately?"

"Not in a couple weeks, they've been busting our asses recently," Ron replied.

"I just interviewed overseas. I tried to call you, but you weren't available...your voicemail is full again, by the way," Martin said, this not being the first time he's had to remind him.

"It is?" his son reacted instinctively before continuing to process the more important bit. "Wait, overseas? When are you coming back?"

"I...accepted a position here, Ron," Martin replied.

"A position? Like a job? For how long?" Ron asked.

"It could be for a while. I'm treating someone, no one can really say how long it will take," Martin elaborated.

There was a pause on the other end. "What's going to happen to home? What about mom?"

"Mom's moving too, and she's figuring home out. It will still be there. She's renting it out. You remember Cody? Your cousin?"

"Forty-second mechanized," he recalled drily.

"He'll be there, so it's still our house, really," Martin explained.

"So where are you? Alizeria? Vyrsar? Novitera?" Ron asked, not wanting to hear more of that.

"New Edom," Weinstein replied. There was no response for a few seconds, long enough that Weinstein wondered if the connection dropped. "Hello?"

"Why would you take a job in New Edom?" his son's voice asked a bit sharply.

Weinstein found himself measuring his response. He couldn't give anything away. "I'm working for the Ministry of Health. They have a problem they don't know how to handle themselves. Somebody needs help and apparently I might be able to give it."

"All right..." Ron said warily, sounding tired and unconvinced.

It was curious. Ron had enlisted knowing that his parents were likely to fret about him. Martin wondered if his son was just now beginning to understand how they had felt. "Ron, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, again unconvincingly to Weinstein, who knew his son. "They didn't give you any notice did they?"

"It was urgent. I wouldn't be taking this job if it wasn't important," he tried to explain.

"Yeah...listen, I gotta go. Talk to you later dad, and...try to keep me posted," Ron said.

"Ron, what's wrong?"

There was a long pause again. "No, nothing. Do what you have to, Dad."

[Hittanryan]

CONFIDENTIAL

PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION

---

Name:	Mara Adah Joanna Obed
Date of Birth:	1992/2/25
Age:	22 years and 11 months
Time of Evaluation:	2015/1/12
Tests Given:	Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)
Assessments to be Applied:	Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) Panic Disorder Social Anxiety Disorder Specific Phobias Depression
Referred By:	Paul Gath, Undersecretary of Health in the Ministry of Health of New Edom

---

Informed Consent and Confidentiality

The patient has been informed of her right to privacy by the Undersecretary of Health, and all necessary preparations have been made to ensure that all staff shall have access to the patient’s health information to prepare it solely for use by onsite medical personnel and staff cleared by the Ministry of Health. Failure to achieve this clearance shall result in indefinite detainment or neutralization as needed.

Reason for Referral

The patient has reported problems sleeping, and has suffered from repeated distressing dreams. She has been abusing substances and collapsing in exhaustion in order to avoid re-experiencing these dreams, citing inability to cope with the intense anxiety that the dreams cause. The patient expresses difficulties with concentration, and has flashbacks to previous trauma. The patient has The patient has reported instances of flashbacks triggered by unexpected calls and unexpected news delivered to her in a sudden fashion. The patient reports losing interest in significant activities of her life and feeling detached from other people. The patient’s range of emotions is restricted, and she reports difficulties developing emotional intimacy with her husband. The patient also has signs of deepening depression, due to survivor’s guilt, and feels shame from feeling bogged down by stress to the point where she feels unable to complete her duties properly. The patient also reports difficulty controlling her weight, but is said to have a regulated diet.


Assessment Methods:
File review: list professional reports consulted enclosed

Clinical interview:
Initial Interview
Date: 2015/1/11

Duration of Interview: 45 mins

Clinicians Present:
Martin T. Weinstein Ph.D

Psychometric Evaluation:
Gestalt Therapy
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy

Feedback Session:

Please note that one of the following tests must be administered:
A) Personality Assessment Inventory (PAI)
B) Nifleheim Multiphasic Personality Inventory-2 (NMPI-2)
C) Millon Clinical Multiaxial Inventory-III (MCM-lll)

And one of the following standardized structured interviews:

A) Clinician-administered PTSD Scale (CAPS) if applicable, or
B) Structured Clinical Interview for the DSM-IV-TR (SCID)

Relevant Background Information

The following information was obtained during a clinical interview and a review of the patient’s chart. The patient’s name is Mara Adah Joanna Obed, a twenty two-year-old Edomite female who was transferred to [DATA EXPUNGED] retreat on 2015/1/5. She was initially brought into Spiritual Counseling by on 2015/1/2 after her family became concerned about her symptoms, which included erratic behavior, difficulties sleeping, and avoidance of people to the point of total seclusion, and general neglect of health. Her family reported that the symptoms onset was in the aftermath of the patient’s honeymoon and persists to this day. She has not reported previously having this happen in the past, nor are there signs of a family history of such behaviors. Her coping strategy was deliberate escapism. In order to escape from the reality of her situation she self-medicated using intoxicants and engaged in substance abuse. She was determined to be a danger to herself and was admitted to the inpatient ward for drug abuse and dietary problems. She stated to clerical staff that she sought specialized care and she began her first interview with Dr. Weinstein on the eleventh of January, and in the preliminary stages for diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Major Depressive Disorder. She had never previously been brought before a Cognitive Behavioral Psychologist previously, nor is there a history of a psychological background from the patient intake questioning.

Mara was born in Fineberg, New Edom without complications and was raised there by her mother and father. She reached all the developmental milestones without a reported incident, and she spent a large portion of her life in Fineberg. She was educated by Dr. Paul Aphek (history, government studies, math), Father Laurent Clare (language arts, music), Dr. Diana Jerome (athletics, health) and Dr. Simone Rehoboam (sciences: biology, geography, geology, chemistry, physics), and was said to have been a ‘challenging’ student, who took some interests (botany, history, athletics) very seriously, others only occasionally. She achieved a middle of the road score on an examination by a Lamonian professor, Madeleine Gedge. She also received some further education auditing courses at Fineberg Univeristy online. Her parents later had the patient’s sister Princess Jocasta Obed of New Edom with whom it is rumored that they have a cordial relationship, but not a close familial one. Mara’s relationship with her father was warm, and very close, and he was reputed to have had a very permissive parenting style. His influence appears to have had a strong impact on the patient, and his death was perhaps a turning point for her life After his death she was crowned and moved to Padan-Aran. Her relationship with her mother has long been complicated by the differing parental style that her mother has, which is less permissive and is concentrated on devout practice of faith, and discipline. With the effect of her father’s permissiveness lingering, the patient desires to maintain a more autonomous lifestyle, and has concerns that her mother is attempting to subvert her position in the social hierarchy.

The patient maintains intimate bonds with many people, and appears to be emotionally receptive to several members of her family. She was observed having a conversation with her Cousin in Law, Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, and the patient’s psychological affect was greatly affected by the presence of the Prince, which is a good barometer to the patient’s prognosis. She is also rumored to have a warm and close relationship with her other cousins, Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, Princess Ava Shalmaneser, and President Perrin Pahath-Moab from her father’s side. Her relationship with Prince Elijah has said to have been a close one since age six and is said to be more akin to a close friend, while her cousin, the President, has more of a protective relationship with his cousin.


The patient reports to having a healthy constitution, and aside from chicken pox, influenza, and pneumonia along with various dismissible childhood illnesses, the patient had no significant physical health problems reported on intake. In fact, the patient reports that she has an active and healthy lifestyle, and thus when questioned upon injuries, reported only minor sprains, bruises, and scrapes from various common accidents, but no outstanding physical illnesses have troubled the patient. The counter-point to this report is that the patient does not recognize her current substance abuse as a problem, thus an updated physical and mental health inventory will need to be made. The patient is said to have been a social drinker drinking a glass of wine with dinner, and never wholly incoherent at occasional parties prior to the onset of symptoms. She has never been hospitalized for alcohol consumption or convicted on any alcohol-related charges which increases the probability that the drinking is itself a symptom. Her Uncle, Prince Elijah Shalmaneser the Elder, was hospitalized for stroke in 2009, which rules out medicines that excessively clot drugs, will need to order regular blood monitoring and EEG as her Paternal grandfather, King Josias II, died of a brain tumor in 1999 and The Dowager Queen Candace’s Paternal grandmother, currently suffers from dementia. Her cousin Prince Elijah Shalmaneser the Younger has possible undiagnosed depression.


Personal history:

The Obed family is the current royal family of New Edom, a Baran noble house whose dynasty stretches back to Cornellian times. The family’s recent history is troubled. In 2001 King Mark Obed I disbanded the National Legislature, beginning a period of what amounted to absolute monarchy and triggering civil unrest. In 2005, chafing under King Mark’s authoritarian rule, numerous elements of Edomite society rose up against the monarchy in the First Edomite Civil War, which concluded in 2009 under a power-sharing arrangement. King Mark would die in a plane crash later that year. This peace would prove short-lived, 2012 saw the outbreak of the Second Edomite Civil War, which pitted monarchists once more against the coalition known as the Free Congress and ultimately led to the formation of the current Interim Government under President of the Council Perrin Pahath-Moab. The Obed family was thus subjected to continuous security measures and was under long-term threat of violence owing to New Edom’s civil unrest.

The patient is the eldest daughter of Prince James Obed, growing up mostly in Betharan Palace in Fineberg. As such, the patient had a largely privileged upbringing, enjoying the wealth, servants, and status afforded to members of the royal family. She often accompanied her father on business trips, exposing her to new cultures and teaching her people skills. By most accounts the patient was willful and free-spirited through her childhood and adolescence. She was very close with her father, who encouraged her independence and later tendencies towards partying. The patient was merely cordial with her mother, who would have preferred to discipline the patient for her unrestrained behavior and ultimately send her to a finishing school (as was the case with the patient’s younger sister).

For the vast majority of her life, the patient was only fourth in line to the throne, and was not necessarily groomed to rule. Though she had a number of private tutors, she has no formal secondary or post-secondary education. She was not an overly serious student, though has some particular intellectual interests such as botany and history. As a princess, it was generally expected that her ultimate duty would be to marry a prince of suitable title and upbringing, with the intentions of expanding her family’s influence and furthering the Obed line. It was further assumed that her marriage would be arranged and she would largely be secondary to her future husband. This was attempted in early 2012 with a marriage to Prince Heinrich of Nordkrusen, however as the marriage went unconsummated it was eventually annulled later that year.

It was not likely anticipated that three kings of New Edom would die in a four year span. Most significant to the patient was the assassination of her father James Obed, which caused the patient tremendous grief. Unexpectedly crowned the Queen of the Allied States, the patient then clashed with her mother, now the Queen Dowager Rebecca, who attempted to exert control over her daughter’s life and office. In particular the Queen Dowager attempted to arrange marriages which she deemed advantageous to the Obed family but were not necessarily acceptable to the patient herself. Eventually the Queen seized control of royal finances that pertained to her personal life and eliminated the Queen Dowager’s main means of leverage over her. The patient and her mother have not been on speaking terms since.

In September of 2014 Michael of Dakmoor began pursuing a courtship with the patient. Although the patient found the match acceptable, she was apparently pressured by the groom’s family and numerous members of the court. A few weeks after meeting Michael, she agreed to marry him after an engagement lasting one month. During their honeymoon, the patient discovered that the now-King Consort expected an emotional commitment from her that she was not prepared to return, as she been brought up thinking love was not a factor in an arranged marriage. The patient has no real romantic or even emotional connections to the King Consort and never intended to form them, but feels for the sake of the marriage that she must placate his unwanted advances even in the privacy of her own home. It was just after her honeymoon roughly one month ago that the patient’s most severe current symptoms materialized.

Legal history: None

History of Traumatic Events:

The patient spent much of the First Edomite Civil War under guard at Betharan Palace from 2005 to 2009 until the Palace was ultimately taken by Free Congress forces In 2012 the patient was married to Prince Heinrich of Nordkrusen. The marriage is unconsummated, and subsequently annulled. and August of the same year the Royal Family, including the patient, is forced to evacuate Betharan Palace at the outset of the Second Edomite Civil War. The patient lives under guard at Padan-Aran while hostilities break out across New Edom. The patient reported in an interview that she began losing some interest in things that gave her pleasure around this time. In June 2013 the patient’s father, King James Obed I, was assassinated by agents of the now-defunct People’s Republic of Damoclea. New Edom declares war on Damoclea leaving the patient deeply mourning her father’s loss, grieving openly in the time available to her. In her first interview she revealed she is still coping with her grief, which suggests the previous coping strategies have failed to produce results.

In June 2013, the patient’s coronation as Queen of the Allied States gave her power she had never expected, and stresses which she did not ask for. The Queen Dowager attempts to assert her authority over the patient, including over decisions such as the patient’s marriage. The patient contests this, believing that the Queen Dowager does not have her best interests at heart after being presented to a number of what she felt were not thoroughly-screened suitors. In July 2014 the patient successfully pursues legal action to seize control of royal finances as pertains to her lifestyle and household from the Queen Dowager. The patient is effectively independent from her mother, but the two have effectively cut all ties since this event leaving the patient with an alienation from her mother.

In September 2014, the patient is first introduced to Michael of Dakmoor. One week later under intense pressure from members of court the patient is engaged to him. Less than a month later in the same year the patient is married and subsequently finds her cultural expectations for the marriage differ strongly from that of her husband. She also reports finding that the relationship was rushing far too fast for her in emotional intimacy for the patient to adjust to the duties of marriage, and she thus is having extra shock added to her, which is another stressor. Since the patient views marriage as duty, not romantic, and her expectations were that her husband was to view it similarly, she was startled when her husband appeared to have entirely different expectations. He has attempted to force romantic intimacy in their relationship when she is not prepared for it which has added an element of anxiety into what was viewed essentially as a professional arrangement. Despite his good intentions, the patient reports poor compatibility with her husband as she says she has very little in common with her husband, and apart from the image and the alliance that was secured by their alliance, the two are essentially strangers, which gives the patient pause about how her future will progress.


Current Mental Status and Behavioral Observations:

Date: 2015/1/11
Patient Intake Inventory

The patient was evaluated and showed responsiveness and receptiveness to questioning, based upon her cooperation, it would appear the patient is likely to have confidence in the care presented by the doctors. The patient appeared to be largely alert, lucid, and properly oriented through the majority of the questioning, which are signs of a good prognosis. The patient was well-dressed, with care taken in her appearance, which gives insight that the patient likely considers appearance important, but despite the care there were hints of fatigue which likely means at the time the patient was suffering from the effects of long-term sleeplessness. Her short and long term memory appeared sound; she was able to recall events and relationships from her childhood, the last few years, and the weeks since her symptoms worsened which also suggests there is an additional stressor which has broken through Her Majesty’s resolve to show nothing of her suffering to others. Her speech was clear, displaying a full range of emotion, so there is no blunted affect, which clearly rules out various psychological conditions.


The patient appears to often be quick to joke and laugh at times which suggests she likely believes this is an expectation of her when discussing trivial matters, but tears came easy whenever she was asked to think introspectively about her mood. This suggests that beneath the happy persona was a fairly fragile woman who suffers without much recourse. The patient often chose to use the following phrase repetitively, saying she was “only able to take so much” at any given time which suggests that the patient is overcome with stress. The stress was plainly visible when discussing her mother as her affect changed, and she displayed visible muscular tension as she stiffened and became curt when discussing her, and was visibly disturbed when asked to recall the contents of her nightmares. She shuddered, became quiet and subdued in speech, suggesting that the patient was suffering from psychological tension The patient asked to stop discussion of both of these subjects.

The patient volunteered how she felt about her father, demonstrating her capacity for insight and reasoning and foremost endurance and patience. Prognosis is good as she recognized that she was still grieving for him, recognized the kind of impact his death had on her life, even recognized that she may not have processed all of her grief yet (using Hamlet as an analogy, see notes). After speaking on the subject of her father, she appeared to drift, lost in thought for the first time.

In some cases the patient’s thoughts wandered a bit, cracking jokes at odd times and quoting literature rather than answering directly. The patient avoided answering some inquiries into her relationships. She discussed her mother in any detail only when pressed, and although she demonstrated some insight into the nature of their relationship, she quickly indicated she wanted to drop the subject. The next inquiry into her close relationships was rebuffed outright.

The patient reported anhedonia, insomnia, disturbing nightmares, lethargy, headaches, and frequent muscle pains which she sees a masseuse for regularly.

The patient showed a clear spectrum of symptoms of anxiety, with tension quite easily seen, this along with an undercurrent of depression along with her Extreme Personal Trauma suggests Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The patient appeared fatigued, and was moved to tears very quickly at the mention of emotional topics, which suggest there is emotional fragility. The patient was was restless, and unable to relax, giving her a stilted temperament which was almost constructed like an actress, and it was clear she was acting as she had physical signs of wear and fatigue. Her fear has not yet been specifically been identified, but the terror of her dreams causing insomnia and night terrors suggest that it is harrowing enough to make her resist sleeping. This suggests that whichever phobia she struggles with is one that dominates her inner monologue. She has clear loss of interest in various activities suggesting an episode of major depression.

[New Edom]

Padan-Aran

Emil Zothakis, 2nd Under-Chamberlain, was the usual go between about any official business wth the Royal Physician, who headed the Household's health concerns and the Grand Chamberlain who organized the Household's officials and servants. In turn, the Grand Chamberlain saw to the details of the actual running of the Household through these and many other officials and reported to the Royal Master of Offices, who appointed those who dealt day to day with the Sovereign. These arrangements had evolved over time and were layered with a great many compromises, traditions and occasional confusion.

In the case of the Queen's therapy, the Royal Master of Offices had made a decision to involve the State, which was his perogative, but in point of fact, as Zothakis pointed out to the Royal Purser, it had also created confusion. Properly speaking these appointees worked for the Ministry of Health. However as such, they had to receive a Royal Invitation to be in the presence of the Sovereign without state business. The state business in question did not officially exist.

Prince Enoch sent a note to the Office of the Chamber advising that he would like an appointment for the therapists set up, immediately. It fell to Zothakis to work this out, and one thing he suggested to Father Emmaeus was that they simply be seconded from the Ministry of Health to the Royal Physicians office.

Father Emmaeus replied that he had already had about as much of them as he could take. Zothakis pointed out that he would find it easier to keep track of them if this were done. Zothakis also pointed out that the appointments would be easier.

"Prince Enoch brought that meddling bureaucrat Gath into my domain, let him deal with it," replied Emmaeus before slamming the phone down.

The Under-Chamberlain didn't care if the Queen wanted to see a therapist or paint herself purple. What he did care about was blancing the books and keeping the schedule clear and straightforward. No one appreciated his work, not even his languid high born boss, Count Merodach, the Grand Chamberlain, who tended to say "Oh, everything will turn out alright in the end, Emil. You'll give yourself an ulcer." easy for him to say; all he'd ever done all his life was wear neat suits and sign papers others had prepared.

Well, he took a chance, and prepared a schedule. A twice weekly meeting, one with Weinstein, one with Rezanic. Tuesday and Friday. He hoped it would suit. He then sent messages to the Queen's Appointments Secretary and to the two doctors and to be safe Father Emmaeus as well. Then he took antacids and waited for the shitstorm to hit him.

To his astonishment, it never came. God was always good, but sometimes He was benevolent too.

[Seelelander]

Collaborative post with the mighty New Edom

The Market Place
Padan-Aran, New Edom

The weathered old woman with vigorous movements arranged the already cooked grilled yam slices at the cooler area of her grill; the others sizzled as she brushed golden olive oil on them and sprinkled herbs and sea salt. She always had one of the best corner places so that people going from one area to another, busy shopping, would find her stall first. Her face, wrinkled like an old but sweet date, was welcoming to those who passed her by.

It was of course then she passed the old woman by, with her willowy figure sauntering with each movement, her supple hips swaying with her sensuous sauntering gait. Her less rounded backside unlike what one would expect from a classic hourglass figure, but it was no less comely with its contrast from her long womanly waist. Her waist was gently curved and with the wade-like wiggle of her hips, it emphasized her firm bosom; full, round, and high which still jounced about with her steps, her long slender thighs and legs were a honey brown hue like the rest of her body, her complexion bronzed by the touch of the sun. The curved sandals she wore were primarily to keep from stepping on any potential harmful things one might find in the streets, and she took a moment to gaze about her surroundings for a moment, her languorous finely spun eyelashes crowned her soft doe eyes which narrowed in the bright sunlight, her hand shielding them for a moment, allowing the soft seafoam irises kissed by blue hues to glint in the light. She peered ahead and took a moment to inhale the sweet scent of the yams with the savory herbs.


As she passed by her smooth lips curved downward and her arched slivered brows furrowed and she passed by an olive brown bony middle aged man with gap toothed grin and tufts of hair sticking out of his kerchief unloaded glazed blue clay pots around his sturdy table while his equally bony but mop headed sons handed them off their donkey pulled cart. The donkey stood patiently nearby as they worked. The glazed blue pots and jars, cups and plates had a special soft azure gleam that the family had preserved the craft of, they boasted, since the days of David the Lawgiver. She made a mental note to return to perhaps adorn her new home with one of the beautiful works of art, as she brushed her flowing dark bangs, swooping with the wind, over her delicate ear. Her hair was thick and luscious, but as soft as pure darkened moonshadow at the deep cover of the midnight hour, and they fell over her shoulders with tapered layers framing her face well. She looked and listened as she carefully attempted to make note of the kind of place Padan-Aran was, remembering that she had a duty here, and that there was a necessity for her to take her time to note what it was like, to see through the patient’s eye what it felt like to live in this valley at the center of vineyards and sands.

Under a striped awning, a young married couple sat at folding chairs, the woman putting a hand over a well rounded belly, and they had phone cards, phones, ipods and other electronics for sale as well as fancy carrying cases and shells, all from various companies. “Do you have the Sleek-5?” a young man in fresh jogging paint striped along his flanks asked, jogging in place as he looked over their wares.

“No, but this is a factory quality equivalent, just as good as Sleek-5,” the man behind the table said, holding up a slim black device. “Take a look at some of these features, my friend…”

As she listened to the conversation, eavesdropping and then found her interests being lured away, she saw a cycling courier who paused, debating if he had extra time or could spare any for breakfast, tempted by the delicious smell of grilled snake coming from a half oil drum grill not far off from the old yam-womans stall. A man wearing only a stained apron stood poking at the sizzling tender looking chunks with a long fork stood beside it, and nearby was a table where his wife was busy skinning and gutting...damn, those snakes were fresh! The lady had never tried snake before, but the scent was not unappetizing. There appeared to be however, other foods that immediately grabbed her attention.

She saw that there were other street foods one could just grab for later. Chickpeas, green peas, nuts and dried or candied food were the most common snack foods. Chickpeas might be candied, salty, spicy, served hot, ground into paste and fried with tahini sauce, might be served as patties wrapped in wax paper, sold as dried salted snacks in a package or served chopped in a salad. Local brands of iced tea, carbonated drinks, cold or hot coffee were the most common drinks. Fizzy water was very popular, and usually you added a little fruit juice of some kind to taste. She made note and nodded her head in approval as she recalled the taste of spiced chickpeas she used to make in the cool months.

There were strict regulations, established by the Market Warden’s office, for what kinds of animals could be killed near the market. Properly speaking all domestic animals and large game had to be killed by the butcher’s guild at designated slaughter areas, and had to be driven down particular roads either as herds at particular times of day or in vehicles. This was why for convenience if you wanted actual joints of meat, organs, heads, feet, and so on you had to head over there, where dogs licked the gutters and boys and girls were employed to keep flies away from things. That was where you could buy ducks, guinea fowl, chickens, capybaras, goats and occasionally mutton, lamb, beef or pork, though these last three were expensive and mostly for the rich.

The Street of the Bricklayers was only so-called--really it sold all manner of construction materials and tools, and was located there because the buildings housing the wealthier machinists, mechanics and builders were there. But you could buy ordinary household goods right in the streets for all to see of course--wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers, adzes, drills and so on. An enterprising kid from up in Glasstower had set up his own bicycle shop and employed five other kids; every day they set up a half tent and worked with tireless enthusiasm on repairs. Because they had a lot of competition, they had to work hard. And since people often had to wait for work to be done around this area, that was where barbers, hairdressers and even a massage parlour were not far off. it was also very close to one of the better mint tea parlours in the city, owned by a man called David the Fluter, a Haranese with blue and white painted skin who happened to be a flautist as well. He wasn’t as good at fluting as he was at owning a cafe though. He brewed a very nice mint tea with varieties including honey, lemon, ginger and rose, and his wife made excellent almond moon cakes. Unlike him she was not gloomy at not being a famous musician.

Not far from the market there was a church garden planted for the benefit of the people of the city, where crocuses, tulips, lilies and violets bloomed in abundant rows under orange and lemon trees, with worn stone benches here and there and wide fountains. People often went to sit and walk there. The lady took her time to sit under the shade of a lemon tree, and she inhaled the fresh citrus scent as she then took her time to continue to walk to where she had expected her home to be. She looked for a bus stop and saw that the traffic was a bit unlike what she saw at home.

Most of the traffic in Padan was foot, bicycle, or larger vehicles like buses. There were also people from the country who had animals like donkeys and horses. Of course there were also parades of the Royal Guard on horseback, splendid looking burnished breastplates, ostrich plume helmets, leopard skin cloaks and stern expressioned guardsmen and officers clattering by. The people were generally proud of living in the Royal Capital and would gather for public events eagerly.

While clothing optional rather than nudity was the order of the day, it could be noticed that certain kinds of people tended to be unclothed. Two young girls playing handball on a street, their young bodies trim as antelope, might have come from any class of people, and simply exemplified the idea that wearing clothes just for athletics on a warm day was decadent even for the rich. On the other hand the group of women working together to mend a cracked wall with paddles, clay slopping in a wheeled little cart were sun browned and clearly used to outdoor labour. The young boy offering to act as a guide to any foreigners made some such wonder where he’d put any money he was offered for the task, but the other young man not far off stopping for a drink at a public fountain (which had signs near it warning that spitting or using it as a bath would incur a fine) would be recognized later at a street mission handing out pamphlets advertising an End Times Church film festival, (Wholesome movies for good Christians--boycott Paladin Cinemas!) was clearly a very devout young man indeed. A group of Baran peasant women carrying various jugs of water from another public fountain (ranging from a plastic inflatable jug to a traditional tall two handled clay jug) had shrugged their dresses down for the late morning warmth to their waists.

The indoor malls around the market that also threaded through them were largely for more high end products--this was where more of the body painting shops, clothing stores, shops for the wealthier people to buy shoes, televisions, sporting goods, fancy toys and fine luxury food items such as frozen dinners, liqueurs and other foreign things could be bought.However they were simply displayed inside as opposed to outside, and in fact a lot of the mall space was preferred to be near skylights or large open doors with access to outside for that reason. It was more expensive to get space and more expensive to set it up too if you wanted to use eye catching awnings, tables and such.

The lady took care as she headed back toward the market, taking care to keep the cash she had withdrawn from her account. She headed towards the Mint Tea parlor and she entered the area, her dainty nose inhaling the sweet scent of herbaceous tea, as she heard the shrill sound of the flute played by David the Fluter. She was eager to have a sweet tea, and careful to take every effort to make wholesome connections with those in the town, as it would be her home away from home for quite some time, she would take her time to get familiar with the area over time. The patient she had was much greater of profile than she imagined, but she was still just as eager to keep in her thoughts the best possible ways to address her troubles. As she listened to the shrieking sound of the flute she went over her notes and began to examine the various things she’d need for her procedures.

Collaborative post with the smooth Hittanryan

Michaelina's Cafe
Padan-Aran, New Edom

Michaelina's was a Mediterranean style cafe with an outdoor patio with umbrellas over glass and wood tables, comfortable wicker and cushioned chairs, and a smell of spices, red wine and fresh bread coming from it. The decor is old fashioned Cornellian peasant--bucolic scenes painted on the walls of country picnics, shepherds and goose girls.

The menu heavily featured pasta, including spaghetti, lasagna, canneloni, tortelini and baked macaroni. Marinara, frutti di mare, or a plain meat and tomato sauce were available. Also available was Istrian stew (beans, sauerkraut, potatoes, bacon and spare ribs), gnocchi with parmesan and garlic, rabbit pie (made with polenta), risotto with saffron. One of with veal, the unusual appetizers was Baran beef served raw with garlic oil, lemon and salt.

The staff were wearing fancy versions of Cornellian peasant clothing--flowing skirts and woven bodices for the women, flowing pants and long shirts with rope belts for the men. Pleasant quiet folk music is played in the background, usually about wistful love, old people dreaming of the past, happy reunions and celebratory gatherings.

Having finalized his preliminary psychiatric evaluation, Weinstein was just off the phone with his wife once again. His air fare had been covered by the Ministry, but Iris was working on booking tickets for herself, picking an airline, booking a date far enough in advance that it would be reasonably cheap, and packing. That didn’t even get into the sheer amount of work it would take to get the house ready for the renters. Her flight wouldn’t be for at least another couple of weeks.

In the meantime, Weinstein’s two colleagues had largely left him in the lurch after the first meeting. He thought they might just be focusing on observing while he questioned the patient. Turned out they didn’t have much to offer at all as far as the diagnosis went. However, Gath had informed him that a fourth doctor had actually been hired and had also met with the Queen, and she had submitted her own evaluation which in many cases corroborated his findings. A second opinion would be very helpful in nailing this beast down. She was a psychiatrist, Dr. Amyris Rezanic, from Seelelander.

Apparently Weinstein was the first to arrive, let the maitre’d know he was meeting one more for lunch, then sat and began appraising the menu. He was wearing a grey business suit with a tie, and had an unassuming demeanor about him.

She poised herself with elegant grace with long, side bangs in soft zigzag parting, which swept across her lashes, the lashes that adorned big almond shaped green eyes, with hints of blue like a cerulean sea kissed by the sun. Her hair was long, straight, and dark framing her face which was slightly long, but her eyebrows seemed furrowed for a moment before she looked at the counter, fully basking in her own nakedness. She had high cheekbones polished with blush like the damask rose in the brightness of the dawn, with speckles of gold coloring her naturally honey brown skin. Her full lips were darkened with rouge that made them a hint redder with a sensual touch of moistening gloss which kept them from drying, as she was not used to such a dry place herself. She was herself, tall with a long sweeping waist that was slender and gently spread to her hips, and her full bust which were just as uncovered as she was before the Queen of New Edom. Her skin was not light, thus she did not burn, so much as she merely was getting a tan from the light of the sun in Padan-Aran. She approached the table where she had agreed to meet Dr. Weinstein and checked for a moment that he was as she had recognized him to appear.

In journals and various local papers Doctor Rezanic would appear to be a modest woman, one who wore traditional clothing with a draping tassled headscarf which would cover the crown of her head. She would wear loose billowing sleeved garments which closed at a buttoned cuff, and she’d wear a smooth bodice which was tight and form fitting and she’d have a wonderfully colored traditional skirt which at its most revealing, would expose her thigh with a subtle movement, but as she stood now, Doctor Rezanic would be nigh unrecognizable, of course, to those who had never seen her without her clothes, which were a privileged few. She approached Dr. Weinstein, with her body swaying at the hips with her motions, how she normally walked, but usually not so visible without the layers of clothes. She would sit beside Dr. Weinstein and lower her gaze at him with a sultry smile before she pulled the chair out.

“It would seem I arrived later than I expected, you’ll forgive me for having gotten here much later than I expected.” Amyris said with a warm and earthy tone of voice, like a honeyed cinnamon, but that melted upon the ears like buttercream. “I suppose you wonder why I asked you to join me before the meeting with the staff, yes?” She purred with the soft Seeleländian accent entering her voice as she brought the menu before her and she examined the wines and mixed drinks. The plumeria perfume wafting from where it was sprayed upon the nape of her neck and the smooth hint where her bosom touched one another.

Weinstein had almost forgotten he was in New Edom. Most of his colleagues and his supervisors from the Ministry were clothed, and outright nudity was something he’d noticed only sparingly since arriving in Padan, much less so than Fineberg at least. Even the servers here in the cafe were clothed. He was abruptly reminded of what was perhaps New Edom’s most famous cultural tic when a breathtaking woman sauntered in through the front door in all her glory. And it was glorious, Weinstein had to admit.

However, such as it was, he took Dr. Rezanic for an Edomite, expecting another foreigner with a waiver. He resumed his study of the menu, vaguely aware that she was walking roughly in his direction. Until, that is, she pulled a chair out and sat down next to him. In a few words, she also confirmed that she was indeed Weinstein’s colleague.

Iris wouldn’t be happy. On the other hand, this kind of story might push Ron into psychiatry for all the wrong reasons. Lowering his menu and taking a sip of water before replying, Weinstein spoke and resisted any urge to break eye contact. “I assumed it was to corroborate our notes so far and discuss possible diagnoses and treatment options. It is also a pleasure to meet you in person for the first time, doctor.”

“Likewise,” the doctor said with a nod of her head. “I would say that my suspicions are that there appears to be Post Traumatic Stress, with comorbid Anxiety and Depression, but I think that this avenue about marriage being a specific trigger of this sort of trauma must be considered. Her first marriage did not end happily, and she and Person of interest HN4 was certainly the first time the patient experienced symptoms, which begs the question if this marriage is even worse than the previous one for her.” the doctor said as she ordered a house wine.

Ordering a wine for himself while eying the pasta section, Weinstein seemed to think for a moment. “I discussed these nightmares with the patient. It was claimed that there was no real pattern of their content, aside from their vivid and generally disturbing nature. They do not appear to fit the classic re-experiencing normally associated with Post-Traumatic Stress.”

“As a result, it is not exactly clear what the trigger for PTSD may have been in this case,” Weinstein said. “The obvious answer would concern HN3, since that is when the worst symptoms first manifested. However, going over the patient’s personal history, we cannot discount what happened to HN1, would you agree?”

“HN1’s unfortunate situation is something no one could account for, survivor’s guilt is normal in such situations, but we need to remember that the onset of symptoms was earlier. The worsening of the symptoms increased progressively since the incident with HN1, but the patient also reported that the full fury of the recent weeks and months have been due to Operation Cantas with HN3. HN4 however I think is where we need to attempt to look back, and then attempt to understand what the patient’s difficulties with Operation Cantas should be, and what is causing her difficulties to function, and if Operation Cantas is truly something too difficult to sustain, we must look into the best interests of the patient.”

Weinstein’s brow furrowed. “Your account regarding HN3 matches the account given to me by GN1 (Enoch), and I concur that it is certainly an area of interest. We need to be careful not to put the cart before the horse regarding HN4, however. The patient first reported symptoms manifesting months after the conclusion of Operation Delta with HN4 (annulment), specifically during Operation Ford (evacuation from Fineberg, start of Second Civil War). These symptoms may have abetted if not for Operation Able (assassination of father), given how close the relationship was. Subsequent events following Able concerning HN2 may have had a cumulative impact on the patient’s health.”

“As well as Operation Cantas with HN4, which I might point out was not too far off in timing from Operations Able and Ford, which also gave the patient no time to cope. This is why I suspect we concentrate on the areas she is not yet ready to confront after we have approached her on ones she is better equipped to handle and discuss, as she still has visibly involuntary psychogenic movement when such things are even barely touched upon, and she has brief periods of dropping lucidity when the topic is breached.”

“Yes, though I picked up on the same signs while discussing HN1 and HN2,” Weinstein said, settling on tortellini with marinara. “I hope you take no offense if I express my concern that HN4 is a dead end. Following Operation Delta, the patient was allowed ample time to process lingering emotions. Operation Able, on the other hand, left her no such time before Situation Charlie arose with HN2. And Situation Charlie is ongoing, concurrent with Operation Cantas with HN3.”

“Which is confirming one of my suspicions which indicates there is a profound lack of commitment on the patient’s part to exercise the same kinds of duties in both missions. This suggests to me that it is more related to those duties. Her grief from Operation Able is valid and she does get suspicious moments but we must earn her trust first.”

“Could you clarify what you mean by suspicious moments?” Weinstein asked.

“In addition to psychogenic movements there are periods of what appears to be catatonia, which I truly hope are not really there, as I had noticed periods of such but I am not sure if it was her being catatonic but rather, her having dissociation. Neither of which are good, but we’ll need more symptoms and tests, first. Which are you willing to apply to the patient?”

“I noticed the same when she discussed Able,” Weinstein confirmed, nodding. “I think NMPI-2 and SCID...” It was then that their waiter appeared, asking for their orders. Weinstein ordered tortellini with a salad, and after being roused from talking shop abruptly realized once again that he was having lunch with a beautiful woman with no clothes on. No, Iris wasn’t going to like this one bit…

Amyris seemed to be less than worried about the situation, as she wasn’t particularly interested in Weinstein, but she certainly was charming enough that she would still have a flirtatious demeanor as she often had. The lady took a moment to order Canneloni with frutti di mare sauce, as she did like the taste of fresh seafood, as it reminded her of home, and the soft sound of waves breaking against the shores. “Estimated Prognosis, I would say that it is possible that this may not be terminal, nor will it be chronic, if we carefully proceed forward. I would recommend treading carefully with respect to duties.”

Once again distracting himself with work, Weinstein continued. “Possibly. GN1 offered some insight into Operation Cantas with HN3. GN1 indicated that the patient requires in private to periodically cease Operation Noldor (maintaining her public roles and persona). Enjoying Operation Juliet (her stated pasttimes and hobbies) without the pressures associated with Operation Noldor is how stress is processed by the patient. However, HN3 does not allow the patient to cease Noldor, nor does HN3 participate in Juliet. The patient feels she must maintain Noldor or a form of it at all times now, even in private.”
“This is also particularly a toxic mindset, so I am thinking DBT. What say you?” The doctor asked as she tilted her head slightly to the side. She appeared confused for a moment. “Something wrong?”

“Just thinking, is all. DBT...possibly. I was wondering about CPT if any major red flags turned up in the patient’s personal history, but so far nothing stands out. Instead it appears to be a cumulative impact of multiple events and sustained periods of stress,” he mused. Then she seemed to sense something. “I think we have a tentative plan, depending on our next few meetings. If you don’t mind me asking, doctor, where are you from? Are you from New Edom?”

“Not at all, I come from far away. A place called Seeleländer, and I live on the Western Isles. I could tell you were foreign quite easily, but I didn’t think anyone would recognize me this way, and I am all the better for it.” Dr. Rezanic said with a smile. “I have come to begin a life anew, a chance for me to be myself, and nobody else. What of you, I think you appear familiar. Did you write the modern traumatic stress article in The Psychiatric Review”

“Co-author. I wouldn’t dare avoid crediting Rochelle, Karen, and Irvin, after all,” he said, nodding. Their conversation continued as they ate on professional matters but not necessarily pertaining to their current patient.

[New Edom]

Padan-Aran

A driver (in another black Chaika) had been sent for Weinstein and Rezanic, and brought them to this area of the palace. Over the trees were the taller areas of the pale coloured peaked roofs and domes of the palace. There was a visible presence of security approaching the entrance; a wide area that left little room for cover of approach over low cut fields of grass and gravel pits, here and there armed and armoured patrols.

The arrangement that had been made was that the therapists would be able to make use of space allotted in the Household’s clinic, which formed part of the estate at Shiloam Palace. This was a building that had both access to a driveway and security gate and to a footpath that led to the palace area proper. It was a large bungalow like building with a veranda wrapping around it, two ramps in case wheelchairs were needed to be moved, and access to the staff’s pool, private garden and kitchen area and was not far from some of the domestic residences. It had ample shade trees around it, mostly lilacs, willows and live oak imported from Ceti. There was a kitchen and lounge area where meals could be prepared as well as a fridge, stove and oven, but meals could also be ordered from the kitchen, and there were menu cards that could be filled out and faxed to the palace’s staff kitchen.

It seemed that this was a place where birds were common, for on the paths and on the roofs of the houses various small finches nested, quarreled and hopped and chirped and tweeted. In the trees, the long soft fluffy nests of tailorbirds swayed a bit in the wind, and here and there on the ground pecked quail, golden pheasant and occasionally strolled a stork, heron or even in one case a Lesser Griffon with long hooked bill and arrogant strutting swagger, in bold black and white, as tall as the largest species of crane.

A solemn faced man was at the veranda of the bungalow, a man wearing only heavy sandals and a baldric like belt across his broad chest and shoulders which hung with many keys, carrying a carved cane swirled like a unicorn’s horn of dark wood, a black and white long furred wide eyed monkey on his shoulder. He was nearly bald, and had a strong nose, dark olive skin and eyes sunken and wise as an old elephant’s in his face. In spite of the age of his face his body looked strong and taut, only the wrinkles around his eyes and the weight and sag of his gonadal sack betraying that age.. Beside him was Father Emmaeus.

“Welcome to the Royal Estate,” said Father Emmaeus gruffly. “This is Mister Zoar--he is the palace Major-Domo.”

“Man and boy have I served; I now served the third Crown of Edom,” he said in a husky voice, bowing. He looked at each doctor solemnly intensely. “I welcome you on behalf of the staff to the Palace. I’m afraid we are rattling around here rather at the moment but we will do our best to work well with you. It is my hope and prayer that you will save Her Majesty from Her affliction…” he sighed and closed his eyes a moment, then opened them with an intent stare at each, “And so doing help our poor and bleeding land.”

“It is an honor to meet you once again, Your Holiness. I am pleased to meet you as well, Mister Zoar, I do hope we have a chance to be very good friends, and as for Her Majesty, don’t you worry, have faith. We will do what we can to bring back her Majesty to her cheerful self once more. Father, if I might have but a moment of your time.” Amyris asked aside to Father Emmaeus for a moment as she sauntered as she normally did, walking from her hips, upright, and confidently.

Meanwhile, bowing, Weinstein said “Good to see you again, Father, and it is good to meet you, Mr. Zoar. We will do everything we can to help her Majesty work through this. Do you know the Queen well?”

Father Emmaeus looked at her with a frown and then said, “Very well, Doctor…” he walked a little ways on the veranda, his black robe swaying only slightly around him as he moved.

“Holiness, I have a question, as someone her Highness trusts and someone has known her since she was a little child, and you baptized her as well, correct?” The Doctor asked as she made a couple of notes in her notepad.

“I was an officiant, officially it was done by Bishop Zecharias, the Prelate-General of Fineberg,” replied Emmaeus as they strolled along the veranda. He glanced to the side as a house martin landed on the rail a moment, twittering shrilly, before flitting off.

“Still, you’ve known her, her entire life. Would you say that Her Highness has shown recent behaviors which are different from her normal actions? Or perhaps at the onset of her melancholy, specifically? If you are not aware or prefer to keep silent, I will happily respect your boundaries, Father, but this is relevant to what I will need to watch out for in the future. Your trust is invaluable for the evaluations in the future.” Amyris asked as she added the touch to the end, with her same soft mellifluous, melodious voice, one which purred with its soft accent which came from the rolling areas she recalled seeing heather and lavender along with soft houses in fields, some scattered with rains as she listened to the voices throughout the town.

Father Emmaeus eyed her. “Really? I’m surprised--I thought you shrinker-johnnies knew everything about your patients on sight. I am also Her Majesty’s confessor, and I’m afraid I cannot tell you much. You have a report, I’ve seen it--and after wading through your gobbledegook it seems about right.” he forced a smile. “Forgive me, that was churlish. But I think that you have enough to work with, would you not agree?”” he looked her sternly in the eye.

“I, like all doctors, approach things from a medical point of view. I evaluate things like one would a doctor. I examine symptoms and make a diagnosis based on what the patient tells me and what I observe for myself. It is best to say Father, that like all doctors, I enter the appointment ignorant as a child with regards to my patient, and I look upon them with fresh beginner’s eyes, treating each of them with their own sense of individualized needs. No person’s case is the same as another. Since she trusts you, and you have always been there for her, I am sure your input will be greatly valued, Father. It is why I asked for advice, as anyone else in your flock would, in order to help aid Her Majesty. We are a team, and we’ll do our best to help one another.” Amyris said warmly. “As for whether I have enough information, I will say I have a beginning diagnosis, and we’ll see how it will go from here, we may identify more things she hides from us as we gain her confidence and trust. Sometimes patients, just like family, will hide things from people they love and trust, because they fear disappointing others, or because they are afraid of burdening others or various other problems driven by fears. This is why sometimes someone who is entirely neutral is needed. Someone unfamiliar, without a sense of prejudice, or without any expectation at all.” Amyris explained. “This is why speaking to her husband, for example, would not work. But speaking to him and other people she respects and regards with affection will always be helpful.”

Father Emmaeus said gruffly, “I will let you know then. Thank you. We should go back to Mr. Zoar and Doctor Weinstein, Doctor Rezanic.”

Zoar said to Weinstein, as the other two wandered off, “Yes. I saw her grow up, Doctor. I was at her baptism, I saw her learn to ride a bicycle.” he sighed and shook his head. “But I will not of course gossip, I hope you understand, sir.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to pry,” Weinstein said as he started to walk inside. “I hope we’re not posing an imposition on the royal household or staff.”

“An imposition, no,” said Zoar. “The palace is not fully staffed at the moment; many of the regular staff are at Betharan, but what is needed is here.” the monkey eyed Weinstein and smacked its little black lips and chortled into the ear of Zoar. He smiled. “My goblin monkey--a friendly species, often tamed as pets in our country. Well, when Doctor Rezanic gets back from talking to the Father I will explain some of the protocols to you both...I understand you have a wife, Doctor. I trust she is healthy, of good nature and obedient?”

Weinstein briefly smiled as well at mention of the monkey. “Your pet seems well-trained. Does he or she have a name?” He wasn’t entirely sure where Dr. Rezanic had gone off to or what she was discussing with Emmaeus. Surely she would have the tact not to torpedo some of his antiquated ideas though, right?

“My wife, Iris,” he said, pulling out a Hub-4 smartphone and showing him a picture of a slightly pear-shaped, curvy woman in a blouse and jeans with quickly-greying hair. “She is healthy and kind. I suppose you could say we are obedient to one another.” He was in truth not entirely sure of Zoar’s meaning behind the third qualifier.

Zoar smiled. “She seems a goodly woman. Ah, here come the good Father and Doctor Rezanic. Another very pious woman, apparently. Blessed are those who are in the company of a good woman.”

“I am going to show you a bit of the clinic and the rooms that the Queen has appointed to you,” said Father Emmaeus, as he returned. He paused. “She...well you’ll see for yourselves, her idea. Not mine.”

The double pale wood paneled doors opened into a small atrium like area where there were a few comfortable looking armchairs with embroidered padding and through an open doorway a kitchen could be seen. In other directions there were a washroom, access to the medical parts of the clinic, which included a large dark wood paneled room through which they glimpsed such things as a large heavy oak chair with sliding panels around it and what seemed to be a hole in the chair that could be exposed, something rather like a treadmill, a skeleton and shelves with jars and clay pots behind a glass shelf. A broad hipped woman wearing only a white apron was tidying in there. “My own medical office,” explained Emmaeus. “We do not have much of a lab here, but we use the one in the military hospital at the base nearby for discretion. And this way...your own offices…”

In one office, there was what appeared to be an old fashioned leather padded psychiatrist’s couch, a formal looking desk and a swivel backed wooden chair behind it. Framed on the wall were posters of Freud, Jung and Adler. The other had a comfortable looking chair that seemed designed for a giant, nearly eight feet at the back, the seat broad enough for three people, and the other chair so small that a midget’s feet would have touched the floor easily. There were three posters on the wall in this office: one of Edvard Munchs “The Scream”, the other an Escher of flying birds and boxes, and the last a Bosch apocalypse.

Father Emmaeus smiled slightly. “Her Majesty...welcomes you to Padan-Aran. If you wish it redecorated, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

‘My, how stereotypical,’ Weinstein thought. Evidently the Queen had seen enough daytime TV to have an idea of what TV psychiatrists were supposed to have in their office. He had never even seen one of those couches until now. “Our main concern is that Her Majesty is comfortable, Father,” Weinstein said. “This will be more than suitable for us, as long as it works for her. Seems like she’s got a pretty good idea of what psychiatrist offices are supposed to look like”

“It is adorable!” Amyris said with a brilliant smile and she covered her soft vermillion red lips, and she let out a titter of girlish laughter as she examined all of the hilariously stereotypical Psychology tools, and Doctor Rezanic of course put a post it note on Alfred Adler and made a smiley face on the note. She then took a few notes in her book with another soft chuckle. “She surely has done her research at least, this proves she was surely happy about the idea. This is good.”

“I hope Her Majesty will be pleased by your pleasure,” said Mr. Zoar. He smiled a gentle smile at this, and seemed briefly distracted by some pleasant memory. “And following this, you will each have an appointment with the Office of the Chamberlain to discuss certain matters of protocol, over at the administrative wing of the palace. Are either of you good walkers, or shall I ring for a golf cart?”

“Walking is fine, unless we’re on a tight schedule,” Weinstein said, glancing at Rezanic for her opinion.

“There’s also a chance to get a good tour of all the places we are passing by on the way, but I am unsure. Would that be within everyone’s comfort zone? I am fine as I am used to walking long distances, but I am unsure if anyone else has the stamina.” Doctor Rezanic said as she shrugged. “I can only speak for myself.”

Father Emmaeus laughed abruptly, rather like a bark. “Comfort zone! Boundaries! Ha! Yes, that’s the sauce alright. Well, lets walk then.”

Mr. Zoar let his monkey patter ahead of them and walked along the path, his sandals slapping the light pink and green gravel. “Well, as we can see here, this grove of trees surrounding us are orange trees planted by King James I in the early twentieth century, and are very handsome. He was very fond of planting. There are riding paths for cycling and horse about here. Down that way there is a training field for equestrian sports, and it often has obstacles set up there. You can have riding lessons or training with the Master Ostler of the Guards if you wish. We will make our approach to the service entrance which is near a green where outdoor events are set up, there are tents and such for that sort of thing. Do either of you enjoy riding, the outdoors or gardening?” he asked politely.

“I certainly did, I recall having a small vegetable garden my brother and I used to care for. It was really wonderful on those days when we were growing up to learn how to do such an important skill. I wasn’t very good at tending to flowers though, but that was because I never let them stay once they had bloomed. I would always trim and press them in books, which would drive my mother mad as there were almost never any blooms left for more than a day.” Doctor Rezanic said with a blush. “But I suppose there’s also things like riding to keep in mind for as well. Are we permitted pets on grounds? I had considered getting a hound or perhaps a bird.” Amyris asked. Of course she did not intend to get just any kind of bird, she had of course learned falconry and intended to either get a proper herding dog to train, or a bird to train for the future.

“I’ve always found a walk or hike outdoors clears the mind,” Weinstein replied when he had the chance. “I’ve never done much riding, and Iris is more of the gardener. But staying cooped up in an office doesn’t do much for my thought process.”

Mr. Zoar brightened. “Well, the Queen loves the out of doors, so you may want to get a good feel for this place. She spent a lot of time growing up here, you know. And pets are a good idea too, we love pets around here. As you see I have my monkey, though it is rather like adopting a child, I warn you--a lifetime of care and love….and the Queen has always had a dog or two, and has her horses. And birds, we do love birds in this country. Oh!” he put up his hands as though in alarm. “That reminds me--no shooting birds even with a sling on this property, the birds are quite tame and friendly. Sit still a bit and you will have finches, swallows and quail about you. Even if you perhaps enjoy hawking, there is a hunting estate for that. This is a sort of unofficial bird sanctuary.”

“Who would shoot birds without a permit on grounds anyway?” She asked with confusion. She was familiar with extremely tight restrictions on hunting and on ownership of various kinds of animals. Even a mousing dog could be one that would be regulated. This of course made it beneficial to get a mutt, as a mongrel would not be pinpointed for their specific breed purpose in hunting, and any mutt was resilient to training. On the other hand another bird came to mind as well, she did of course love parrots as well, recalling her aunt’s sun conure, with his bright golden sunset red plumes. “Are there restrictions for animals on grounds?”

Zoar considered, and said after a moment, “They don’t like it when horses eat the flowers.”

“How private are the grounds here?” Weinstein asked. “If her Majesty likes the outdoors, we may consider meeting out here...but only if we have assurances of privacy. We need to maintain confidentiality at all times, of course.”

“I think that would be possible,” said Zoar, “The Queen likes going for walks and having picnics.”

They had arrived at last at a kind of serviced area. While the surrounding architecture of the courtyard they had come to was handsome--vine covered walls, sculpted stone rails high above them, there was also a vehicle servicing dock that stood nearby, an ugly metal grille, with metal stairs beside it, and a path led around to where there was a door. A young man wearing only an apron was sweeping up the courtyard; he bowed and said, “Good morning, Mr. Zoar.”

“Good morning, Nathan,” said Zoar as they passed by. “This is Doctor Weinstein and Doctor Rezanic, they are temporary staff with the Clinic.”

“Good morning, Your Honours,” said the young man, smiling and bowing his head, looking at them curiously before going back to his sweeping. The monkey chose to remain outside, watching him, while they went in. Weinstein inclined his head politely.

They came to an office which seemed at first to be a kind of greenhouse, for it was full of flowing ferns, elegant figs, triangular fragile looking nicotina, and various violets and bell shaped blue and purple flowers. The man that they met there was slim, dark haired and wore a white uniform jacket that was unbuttoned, and he looked very unhappy; he seemed rather young as well, not a lot older than Mara. “Zoar,” he said, “You come to torment me again.”

“Yes, sir, these are the two I told you about,” said Zoar. “I--”

“Oh, yes, of course. Well, I think the woman will do…” he looked at Rezanic, “But what’s this, why is he wearing that? What is this, a brothel? Undress at once!” he said sharply to Weinstein.

Weinstein calmly fished a bit of paper out of his pocket. “Sorry for the confusion, here is my exemption waiver for the Compulsory Nudity Act. I’m Dr. Martin Weinstein, nice to meet you, Mr…?”

“...Dr. Weinstein and Dr. Rezanic are attached to the clinic to deal with the Queen’s treatment,” said Zoar firmly. He looked as though he had bitten into something sour.

“My apologies,” said the young man without losing a beat. “I am Count Merodach, of course. Well, welcome. I have some security badges for you--you will need a lanyard, Doctor Rezanic. And the appointments. Doctor Weinstein, yours is tomorrow, and Dr. Rezanic, yours is Friday, if that is acceptable to both of you,” he said, handing them the cards in question. Please don’t lose these. You’ll check them with the Royal Protection Service checkpoint when you leave at the end of your work every day, and reclaim them when you return. Mr. Zoar, was there anything else?”

“Did either of you have any questions for the Grand Chamberlain?” asked Zoar.

“Not a one on my part, thank you very much, Sir. It was a pleasure to meet you. Please let me know if there is anything that I need to know, or need to take care of.” Amyris said with a warmth and sweetness that she matched with a soft wave of her hand to indicate she had no desire to trouble him further. “I shall prepare the quarters for what I need done at another time and see into pets later, and we can discuss what is permissible then, but in the meantime I am satisfied with your explanations.”

“None that I can think of, Your Highness. Thank you both for your time,” Weinstein said, feeling as though he was lucky to get a word in edgewise.

Count Merodach started, looked around himself and was looking generally confused when Zoar ushered them both out and led them back to the entrance. They were now officially ready to begin their work on an appointed schedule.

[Hittanryan]

Padan-Aran

A brown skinned Dengali, with a white cap, apron and nurse’s uniform painted on her otherwise bare body, knocked on Doctor Weinstein’s open door. “Thy appointment has arrived, O Doctor, and commands thee to attend.”

Weinstein had been trying to figure out how to make it seem less like he was looming over his patient and more like a normal conversation. This was how they did it on TV, sure, but the feeling of a bespectacled analyst scrutinizing your every slightest mood while bearing down on you from a giant throne wasn’t exactly conducive to a therapeutic atmosphere.

However, he was now out of time. Part of him briefly wondered why, if they wanted to simulate a uniform, the Edomites didn’t just use the uniform, but quickly bowed and said “Thank you. I’ll see her Majesty now.”

Precious trotted into the room just before Mara, who was wearing a breezy pink sundress, and had her hair cut in straight bangs and brushed back over her shoulders. She smiled at him and went and straddled the little couch, delicately tucking her dress down modestly, and said, “Hello Doctor Weinstein, how are you settling in?” Precious went up to sniff his feet and hands carefully.

Weinstein bent down and scratched Precious’ ears a bit. Precious wriggled and panted happily for a bit. “I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Weinstein replied. “I’ve been for a few walks around town to get a feel for what’s here, enjoying the weather, and of course many phone calls from home. My wife’s working on getting our house back in Adiron settled. How has your week been? I see you got a haircut.”

“Yeah” said Mara, stroking a hand along one dark wing of her hair, “I’m not sure I’m happy with it, to be honest, but I wanted to try it out...I guess,” she shrugged. “I hope she manages to get your property settled, your wife I mean. Is that sort of thing difficult in Adiron? Are there complicated laws?”

“Some. We decided not to sell so there’s no closing or transferring the mortgage anything. Family’s going to stay there, keep an eye on the place,” he said as he sat down in the massive chair with a glass of water. He really did feel like he was looming over her though.

“Father Emmaeus said you helped decorate our offices. Dr. Rezanic and I both found it very charming. Are you comfortable? Mr. Zoar assured us we would have privacy, if you’d prefer to meet outside or anywhere you’d feel comfortable.”

Mara laughed. “Sure, are you comfortable in that huge chair? Isn’t it hilarious? Its like ‘Hey, I’m Doctor Weinstein, this is my MASSIVE GIANT CHAIR’” she giggled a bit more and then settled down. “Sorry, we can totally redecorate if you want”

Weinstein smiled. “It certainly looks like it belongs in a psychiatrist’s office. Or at least what a psychiatrist office is supposed to look like. I mean, I’m comfortable enough, but I could probably fit a group therapy session on this chair alone,” he joked.

“I know!” Mara laughed “Actually when we were kids some of us used to all sit in the chair at the same time and watch movies, it was hilarious.”

Still smiling, Weinstein asked “So Mara, how has your week been?”

Mara considered a moment, and toyed with the hem of her skirt, trailed a lock of her hair behind her ear and considered. “It sucked, and it was good at the same time Like it was good in that I was able to actually read a whole report on the aquaponics thing--and I think I figured out where some things are going wrong with it. So...I wish I could do that all the time but I’m going to have to recommend appointing someone who will manage the distribution system better. I mean my nightmare is that they go to people who don’t learn how to properly maintain them and everything just falls apart, you know? Like it depend on a few things: reliable water distribution systems, water filtration, bacteria balance and all that being cared for properly and then maintaining the plant life cycles properly. but you know they sent out these manuals, yeah, that are like written in bureaucratic blah, and I could barely understand it so how are Simon and Hannah from miniville going to figure that out? What we don’t need either is some jerk from some civil service hive going and blahing at them and then leaving then with a bunch of systems that they can’t make work, or...well I’m rambling but anyway figuring that out and getting this guy I know who got his neighborhood in Sterry using the system and putting him in charge of managing the distribution systems--that was a good week.” she shrugged.

“I feel like crap. I feel...so dead in a way...like I’m a puppet me when I’m not doing this stuff. I feel like I’m acting all the time. Sometimes I wish I’d been hit by the assassins rather than my father.”

Weinstein took in her review of work, until her last comment, where his expression grew a bit more concerned. Survivor’s guilt. “Hmm, well, let’s look at things another way. You find this work rewarding. You’re clearly invested in its outcome. You’re the one making the decisions. Why do you feel like you’re just pretending?”

“Real decisions,” said Mara. She sighed. “I guess so. But you know, it took a huge effort just to do that. It’s...well its just one little thing. Pretending? I am pretending, Doctor Weinstein. I just want to lie in bed all day and do nothing. Thats all I want to do.”

Weinstein nodded. “Right, you’ve mentioned. It sounds like you’ve had a productive week that you worked through despite all that. But you just downplayed everything you did. Why do you think you did that just now? Does it not feel good enough?”

Mara smiled, “Thats what I tell myself. I have no business being so unhappy that I feel like just sinking down...so I can’t figure it out. Maybe part of it is how hard it is to sleep. I keep thinking now that I will have a nightmare. They get so real. like…” Mara proceeded to tell him about the one that she had had before the psychologists were hired. “It felt so real. They’re all like that. I have to get up, walk around, touch things, to make sure they are not. I can’t sleep unless I’m drunk, but its like even then I have to be dead drunk...and I do stupid things when I’m drunk so I’m worried about that now. I tried...zoplicone and a couple of other things, but they suck, so I won’t do that again. So you think I should just suck it up and get on with things, huh?”

“No, I don’t think that, Mara,” Weinstein replied, reading her reactions again. “Something’s clearly there that just won’t go away, and I don’t want you thinking it’s because you’re not strong enough or anything like that, all right?” he asked earnestly.

“It sounds like things started to first get truly unmanageable after your honeymoon. What kind of person is your husband? Does he meet your expectations for a marriage?”

Looking at him thoughtfully a moment, Mara said, “Don’t you and Rezanic compare notes? Michael is a good lover...if kinda romantic and serious about it--and he wants to be loyal and good to me. But he doesn’t get things. He wants me to be in love with him, even though everyone including him knows I barely know him and its an arranged marriage of state. which is what I wanted. I can’t just relax around him, I can tell he doesn’t like my way of relaxing. Like if we are watching a movie, he doesn’t like me kvetching about it and stuff, he wants to sit with his arm around me kissing and cuddling; if I’m being playful in bed he wants to look soulfully in my eyes. I feel stupid for marrying him. I feel like I can’t really talk to him. And I think he’s full of it anyway. He doesn’t even know me, he wanted to marry me I’m absolutely sure because I have a crown and because he likes how I look.”

Mara threw her hands up. “I dunno, is that a reason to go to pieces? It doesn’t make any sense, it sounds stupid when I even talk about it.”

“We do compare notes. I wanted to hear it from you because of something you said earlier: You feel like you have to put on an act all of the time,” Weinstein said. “And it’s not stupid. Your emotions are real, we all feel things like grief, stress, and anger throughout our lives. That’s normal, in fact not being able to feel all that would point to even more serious psychological issues. It’s how we cope, how we process these emotions that is the key to living normally. If we don’t process them, they can be...well, for lack of a better word, poisonous.”

“It sounds like you had your own means of coping in private. You only had to put on this big act in public, but now you feel the need to put on an act in private too. When you’re with Michael, you can’t regularly blow off steam like you used to.”

“The two of you clearly have very different expectations for your marriage. You have different personalities and interests. Most importantly the marriage seems to have had some impact on your well-being. I won’t say the marriage is the whole thing, I suspect it’s a lot of things piling up, but it’s keeping you from coping with these negative thought processes.”

Having looked into Edomite marriage law after his talk with Enoch, he knew divorce was illegal. So he skirted that issue. “I realize you don’t want to upset him or jeopardize the marriage, but what do you think would happen if your husband was to be very directly informed of your concerns? If you don’t think he’d listen, what do you think of living separately for an extended period? Going back to the way things were before?”

“That’s kind of what we’re doing now, living in Padan for me, living in Fineberg for him. But I know it’s hurting him. I don’t know how to talk to him about it. I tried, Enoch tried, he doesn’t get me. Its stressful even thinking of him. Maybe I should get him to take a mistress or someone, then he could have all the lovey dovey he wants.” Mara smiled at him sidelong. “I mean...I dunno. I had to…” she shrugged. “I’ve been in love twice already, and couldn’t marry either guy. I just wanted a comfortable marriage like my parents’.”

“What do you mean by comfortable? How were your parents comfortable?” Weinstein asked.

Mara for a moment looked distant, then softly said, “They were partners. They supported each other, they were kind to one another, they always were like a dancing duo in front of others. The family came first but they enjoyed themselves. Even when things were scary, or confusing, they were side by side.”

“But they gave each other their space?” Weinstein clarified.

“Yes, after Jocasta and I were born they each took lovers as well,” said Mara. “Jocasta probably doesn’t know, she spent almost all her time at Whitehaven, I knew though.”

It really was a business transaction, but Michael didn’t see it that way. “You really believe living separately is hurting him? How can you tell?”

Mara gave him a solemn look and said in a slow voice, her tone becoming grand and ethereal, “I have...my ways, Doctor Weinstein. Many and mysterious are the ways of the House of Obed.”

“I’m asking partially because earlier you expressed skepticism that his emotions were genuine,” Weinstein pointed out, noting an inconsistency. “But also because if any of his affection is genuine, there’s a hope that if explained to him in full gory detail, he will realize that your health is what’s most important here. You have to remember, Mara, that you’re half of this marriage too. You get a say, especially where your health is concerned.”

“That was a joke, geeze, Doc,” said Mara with a wink. “Well, I don’t know what that means...I mean I know what the words mean, but it’s like...well I just can’t handle it. I mean...why can’t he just enjoy what we have? Rezanic said the same thing, talk to him. It feels like such a big deal, I want to crawl into a hole instead.”

“You don’t have to do it alone, Mara. Remember the people who are behind you,” Weinstein assured her.

“Let’s move on for now,” Weinstein offered. “Do you remember what I suggested to you at the end of our first meeting, about getting out a bit? Did you give that a try?”

“I went for a walk, and I went and got my hair done,” said Mara. “I’m glad I did, but it’s like it took an effort, like I had to plan it. If I schedule it it might help a bit. I should try taking Precious for more walks myself rather than getting Tegan to do it.”

“It took effort,” he repeated. “Scheduling helps you commit, gives you something to look forward to, a reason to get up in the morning. How did you feel? Did you feel like you hit your limit at any point?”

“I kind of enjoyed it...and kind of kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” Mara said. “So...yeah. It’s an effort. It’s like knowing you need to exercise or eat--sometimes when I eat I feel a sense of pleasure but I forget about it for next time. I’m so tired all the time lately. I feel aches and pains, I feel like I can never get comfy.” Mara brushed tears from her eyes. “I don’t think I can talk anymore today. I need to have a swim, do a few laps...I barely have the energy to do that…”

“It’s all right, Mara. These aren’t easy things to talk about, especially this early,” Weinstein reassured her. “Right now you’re having a hard time describing your emotions, it’s draining just to describe them. In the treatment Dr. Rezanic and I have been talking about, we’re going to help teach you how to approach all of these negative thought processes. We’ll teach you how to identify them, some ways of providing immediate relief, and ultimately we can teach you to identify yourself why you’re feeling the way you do. It will make more sense when we get to that point. We will teach you what you need.”

With a rueful smile, Mara got up. “Thank you for your time, Doctor. I will let you know how my schedule goes. I guess in the meantime...I was going to write some stuff down, things I’ve been thinking of, I’ll send them to you both tomorrow if you’d like. Would that be alright?”

“That would be fine,” Weinstein said with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mara, this normally takes time. One step at a time.”

[Seelelander]

Cooperatively written with New Edom !

The Estate of the Royal Family
The City of Padan-Aran, Bara Province, New Edom

A brown skinned Dengali, with a white cap, apron and nurse’s uniform painted on her otherwise bare body, knocked on Doctor Rezanic’s open door. “Thy appointment has arrived, O Doctor, and commands thee to attend.”

Doctor Rezanic had been offered the room with the nice leather psychiatrist’s couch and the wooden comfortable swivel chair and the pictures of Freud, Jung and Adler. She had been given a sturdy wooden filing cabinet clearly made in an era of hand made solid wooden furniture with nearly silent runners for the drawers, which themselves were heavy enough to serve as weight lifting apparatus. She had also been offered a selection of potted plants and a frog in a tank if she wanted it. There was a choice of a large breed of bullfrog the size roughly of a person’s two hands side by side, a bright yellow and green tree frog that she was advised to wash her hands after touching, or an aquatic green and red frog with broad paddle like feet. Doctor Rezanic naturally had chosen a tiny tree frog, with the bright green hue, because she loved the sweet sound of the call at night. The sound was a sweet reassuring sound that reminded her of the moorlands by her home and the sounds of the choir of crickets that could be heard echoing through the soft heather plants. The large expanse of meadow could be seen as if it was going on forever, and she realized then she had felt a bit homesick. Although her life was one that she was proud to have, and she was pleased to be away from the culture she had left behind, she was still at a loss on how to address her sense of alienation from her own sense of normalcy, as she was ready to do her job, but she had no idea just how much she was in for with regards to her patient. Before she began to speak even a word she removed her notepad from her desk, still fully in the nude, her honey brown skin was still as warm tinted with peach in the mottled sunlight which was blocked by a potted plant. She began to take crucial observations of the patient.

“Good Morning, Your Majesty. How are you faring this morning?” Amyris said with a brilliant countenance, her eyes bright emerald green with a certain resplendence, a corona of cerulean that gave it the illusion of seafoam and waves in her eyes. Her hair was loose, with a small minimal amount of makeup in earthy tones merely to cover up any marks she may have retained from the hazard of unpacking. Naturally being naked had its downsides, which was that when you place things in the upper closet, and they come crashing on you, you are more likely to end up with a nastier scar than you’d have from one wearing a helmet, but it was not like Amyris had a helmet everywhere she went anyhow. She had taken a moment to gesture with her hand for Mara to sit however way she was comfortable, and she removed an aggregation of photographs and set them on the table wordlessly. Each photograph appeared to have the same person with various facial expressions.

Mara wore a soft red dress with black embroidered bordering around the hem and the neckline, which was transparent enough that it was more of a decoration than covering, but it suited her rather heavy hipped supple and strong figure well. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a beaten gold anklet and matching bracelet, which she twisted from time to time. Sitting down she motioned Precious to lie down nearby, which the little dog did with a little trilling sound such as Poms make, whirling round and round till he found a suitable comfortable way to curl up, where he could watch both women. Mara looked like she was smiling in spite of being exhausted. “You look very pretty today Doctor Rezanic, you would think you were an Edenist or something. Have you noticed that I’m a disgrace to my clan? I have no tanlines.” she said with a faint smile.

“Do you feel that the tan lines offer you some sort of mark of inferiority or superiority, your Majesty?” Doctor Rezanic asked as she marked a few notes down. “Because if it is as you say and I resemble an Edenist, then you too resemble one. Is a pious Edenist one who is frowned upon?” Amyris asked as she readjusted herself to get a clear view of her facial reactions to her questions, and to make note of behaviors that the Queen exhibited, either consciously or unconsciously.

“La, in Monarchist circles, certainly,” Mara said, cutting a pose, gently fluffing her hair and looking skyward a moment. “A proper lady does not go naked all day long like a peasant; they wear bathing suits and athletic clothing--a proper lady should show that she can afford indolence--and not a farmer or soldier’s tan either, you see. My mother’s rump is paler than her thighs.” she laughed. “But I have always loved Edenism, though I practice it only when I can. I never wear anything to swim. Are you interested in our way of life, Doctor?”

“I am, Your Majesty. It is why I intended to seek a new life here after all, and if I am to stay on as permanent medical staff, I will live here, and maybe raise a family here someday. This is what I hope will happen of course, we all have our dreams and aspirations. Tell me, Your Majesty, what is Edenism, and what do you think of it in principle?” Dr. Rezanic asked as she expected she would get quite a bit of information, she readied her pen to jot down as many notes as she could.

“Okay well,” Mara said, suddenly animated, “Edenism is a Christian subsect--people like the Adamites, the Brethren of the Poor Spirit and so on, they believed that with the sacrifice of Christ came redemption, but if that is the case then did we have to wear clothes? They believed that wearing clothes all the time actually increased sexual temptation, right? So by embracing holy naturism you also accept that it is character that makes sexual sin possible, not how you dress or undress. It’s controversial and not accepted by most Christian sects. It’s a cross denominational movement as well--there are Apostolic Edenists, End Times Church Edenists and all that. I agree with a lot of the teachings, though some sects do weird stuff like deliberately courting sexual temptation to show their resistance--but there aren’t many of them.”

“This sounds like it resounds deep within you. Would you consider yourself a pious Edenist?” The Doctor asked as she tilted her head. “If you do, I ask, from whom do Monarchies derive their power and just cause to rule?”

“The House of Obed,” Mara explained, “Claims that right from a mandate of sovereign rule over a number of states under holy oaths to God Almighty. I don’t see this as incompatible with Edenism, but as Queen I have to dress in public unless I’m doing athletics or sports...so…” she gestured at her diaphanous dress. “Actually it’s one of the things that Jocasta and I have in common, ever since she got out of Whitehaven she has never put any underwear on, thinks they are decadent and pornographic.” she giggled. “Not that Sissy really knows what that means...oh gosh, you won’t repeat her nickname will you?”

“Everything said between you and me is forbidden to ever leave my lips. It is as binding as the seal and oath of a doctor to one’s patient. And I take this oath seriously, as well as the oath that the rule of Kings and Queens are only possible with the blessing of God. It is because of this blessing that your rule is secure, and your devotion makes you closer to God than you would be with clothes on. As I see it, it is the Monarchists who have lost sight of their salvation, and are slipping into decadence and sin. Was not Adam and Eve’s first response to falling into sin the shame that brought them to cover themselves up and hide? The clothing is not merely pornographic, but it marks one as not born again and saved, and I think among Edenists and the common people who believe, they would rejoice if you were sincere with them and relinquished the expectations placed upon you to conform to a dereliction of duty. That holy duty which legitimizes your rule, which is to accept the grace given to you by Our Lord, Jesus Christ.”

Mara sighed softly. “You know...you do understand I think...I feel so alone with that at times...it’s so good to hear someone else say that. I feel like I understand the people in my heart...as Perrin does in his head...I feel like...I have to hold back all the time and I hate it.”

“Sometimes to be true to ourselves is more than just doing what is easy, but to do what is difficult, and it also means we have to recognize who we are. What our needs are, what our goals are, what our dreams are, and how we wish to live our lives. We then must identify why these goals dreams and hopes aren’t reality, and if there is thinking getting in the way of this, we need to either do one of two things, we need to change our mind and take a risk, or change our mind and abandon what must be left behind. Sometimes we must do both as well.” Amyris said with a smile. “I have with me, pictures. I want you to tell me what emotions these are attempting to convey, and I want you to tell me why you feel this is the case.” Amyris said as she held up a picture of a woman with wide eyes, the eyelids are opened and the white of the eyes showed above and below the iris. She had arched and raised eyebrows, jaw dropped without tension. Stretched skin below the brow, horizontal wrinkles on her forehead.

Mara leaned forward. “uh...orgasm?”

“Alright, and what about this one?” Dr. Rezanic asked as she raised another which had brows raised but drawn together in almost a strange flat line, her eyes were open wide , with a slightly open mouth with tense lips that are stretched and drawn back. The upper eyelid is raised and has white showing, but not the lower white of the eye. The wrinkle on her forehead is in the center between her brows, and not across in horizontal lines.

.Mara considered. “Um...oh wow, I know, that’s...like…” she widened her eyes, and opened her mouth slightly. “You know?”

“Try and give it a name you think it is. There is no harm in making a guess, but let’s try this one.” She said as she took out another one. The brows were lowered and drawn together, vertical lines appear between the brow, with a tense lower eyelid. Eyes are in a hard stare, and lips are pressed firmly together with the corners of her lips lowered. Her nostrils were flared, and her lower jaw is slightly jutting out.

Leaning back a bit, Mara said, with a shrug, looking away, “Mad, I guess, like angry.”

“Very good, let’s try another.” Doctor Rezanic said with a smile and a nod of her head to convey approval of her choice of emotional words. The next picture, the woman had the corner of her lips drawn back and curved upward, her mouth parted, teeth exposed. A wrinkle runs from the outer nose to the outer lip, and cheeks are raised with a tense lower eyelid. There appeared to be wrinkles near the the outside of the eyes.

Mara moved a hand on her thigh, toying with the hem of her diaphanous dress. “Um...she’’s scared.”

Amyris immediately made a note. She then nodded her head “And this one.” She said as she showed a picture of a woman with the inner corners of her eyebrows drawn in, and up. The skin below her eyebrows were triangulated, with the inner corner up. The corner of her lips were drawn down, and her jaw was raised. The lower lip was pouted outwards.

Mara blinked a few times. “Trying...not to cry?” Mara asked hesitantly.

“What emotion do you feel when you are trying not to cry, Your Majesty?” The Psychologist asked as she warmly gave her a sympathetic frown.

“I don’t know how to put it...I guess like I’m drowning...like I’m so small…” Mara’s lip began to quiver, and tears suddenly filled her eyes. “Like I can’t really move right, like...I’m shrinking...and all I can do is hold very still...I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense but...I guess like that.”

“What about this one, Your Majesty?” She asked as she showed a picture of the woman with relaxed eyes but a lip corner was pulled up and back on one side.

“She’s like...’ Mara took a deep breath and fanned her eyes a bit, to keep her delicate kohl from running. “Hm...not sure if I believe you...sorta suspicious maybe? Wary?”

“Alright, and what about this one?” She asked as she showed a woman with eyebrows pulled down, her nose wrinkled, her upper lip pulled up, and lower lip loose. “It is the last one before I explain what we are doing, and why.”

Mara laughed. “She’s like, ew gross...disgust... “ she sniffed and took a tissue out of her embroidered black beaded purse and sniffled into it, then dabbed at her eyes with a little compact mirror before putting the stuff back in her purse.

“That she is. These are all emotional expressions, how we see them visibly on the face of others. They’re said to be universal feelings that all humans naturally feel and react to in the same involuntary way. This orgasm is a surprised face, and this ‘you know face’ is a fearful face. The mad one was anger, and the one trying not to cry is a sad face. The ‘scared’ face, is a happy face, and the ‘wary and suspicious face’ is contempt. The gross one is disgust.” Amyris said with a raised eyebrow. “You can see there are some signs that emotions are a complex thing your Highness, and the smile can of course be feigned, but the telltale signs of feigning a smile is easy to recognize in one who is trained to see. You try to smile when you are scared, why do you feel compelled to smile when afraid, Your Majesty?”

Mara looked at her a long moment, her face both composed and trembling at the same time...and said softly, a bit hoarsely, “I’m not supposed to be scared. I’m the Royal Griffon, the anointed of God, the Majesty of Edom.” her composure crumpled and she shook her head. “What a joke. I’m not Adah the Liberator, or David the Lawgiver, or even my father. I’m just me. It’s like I really am crazy...I feel like I’m the only person at court who knows it. But I can’t stop playing the game.”

“Your Majesty, you are yourself, and above all else, you are accepted, believed in, cared for, cherished, and loved. There are however things that I feel that your Majesty must address with regards to becoming Queen who has the potential to be great among those names whom you address with reverence and respect. What we need to do first is to give you a chance to embrace the truth. To recognise your emotions, and to accept your feelings as valid is very, very difficult if you feel you do not have the emotional support you need. So I wish to ask, is there those among you who make you feel safe? Those who make you feel valued?” Amyris asked. “Because those people are often the key to helping you recover as well.”

Mara suddenly looked like one of the pictures--her face screwing up a moment, and quickly stopped it, her face going blank, leaning over and hugging her stomach a bit. “I don’t want to say what I’m feeling. Why do we have to do this? I don’t like this anymore. I want to go for a swim.”

“Your Majesty, to discuss feelings is key to recovery as well. You have unmet emotional needs, and this starvation is causing you to wear away your health. It is causing you physical harm, and it is also causing your loved ones to fear for your safety. I have the intention and plan to offer you a chance for a relaxing time swimming, but when you feel you are ready, we must return to addressing which emotional needs we must help you receive, as those who love you do not wish to see you in such pain, Your Majesty. I did not come to destroy, but to heal, and sometimes to heal we must lance the infection that hides beneath.” Amyris said with lowered eyes. “I can give you a medicine which will ease your dreams, and one that will aid in your rest, but the medicine shall be carefully monitored, and we will need to ensure your safety, Your Majesty.”

Mara rubbed her stomach, and said, “I cannot hold anything down, it all tastes like sand to me. All I can do is drink, but I can’t hold that down either. Doctor Rezanic...what i’m going to say is going to sound so stupid, so dumb...what I want is impossible. i feel like I want my family back. I want my cousin Olivia back...I miss her so much…” she suddenly began to weep, her face twisting, eyes welling and tears spilling and streaking kohl. “I’ve missed her ever since she got married and moved away. We used to see each other almost every day. I miss my Father so much it hurts. I need to talk to him so badly but he won’t ever come back. I miss how things used to be with Perrin and Enoch. Do you know it’s stupid, I used to dream about which one of them I’d marry--and I was told I never could. They were always there, protecting me, standing by me...I feel like everything is blowing away, like i have no anchor. I can’t even stand to think of it...I’m afraid if I tell anyone I’ll be like this and won’t be able to stop, ever…”

“How you feel is not stupid, what I am hearing is that you’ve suffered innumerable irrevocable losses, and what you lost was of such great value to you that it feels like there is nothing to keep you grounded and as the days wear on, and you have no one who can keep you from feeling like you have validation of some kind, it will keep you from feeling like you will ever feel able to recover from those losses.” Amyris said as she offered cleansing wipes and tissues and a warm fuzzy blanket, draping it over her for the feeling of comfort. “When I was young, my father gave me a similar blanket to this one. I used to look up at the moon, completely swallowed up by the thing, and I remembered him, I think of him often, and I feel there is no shame to admit that losing someone you loved caused you sadness. There’s no shame in admitting that terrifying and unstable situations are terrifying. Your emotions are real.”

Mara looked at her gratefully through her tears, and smiled a quavering smile, and said, “Thank you...well I feel a little less ridiculous..I haven’t really told anyone this...my head is aching so much and I feel really weak actually…” Mara curled up on the couch and exhaled as though she’d been holding her breath for a long time. “God I’m such a mess…” she wiped at her face and sighed again, tossing the tissues and wipes away, her makeup mostly gone entirely, her bare face looking very much like she was just a pretty young woman with a disheveled ponytail lying under a blanket, shivering and sniffling.

“You are alive, and you are doing a brave thing in seeking to recover and to take control of your life, and for this you are Hardly a mess, Your Majesty.” Amyris said with a warm smile, “Would it be untoward of me to offer you a hug, or is this an expression far beneath my station or a break of protocol, as my culture is a bit more expressive, and when people are hurt and grieving, a hug is usually called for. There’s also of course, hugging Ser Precious, who is clearly more than willing to fill this role if I cannot.” Amyris said as she picked up the Pomeranian and gently set him close to Mara.

“Oh yes, thank you,” said Mara, huggingi the Pommeranian and including Amyris in the hug for a long moment. She sighed softly again. “I feel SO tired right now…” she closed her eyes. “I suddenly feel like I could sleep maybe…”

“I recommend you rest then, Your Majesty. The times when you are able to sleep with ease is rare, and I can at least promise if you take your medicine as directed, you are unlikely to have a nightmare tonight. So I recommend taking this.” She said removing the bottle and offering it to Mara, and she poured a glass of a sweet tea, flavored with local juices, as Amyris was wont to often experiment with mixed drinks of a non-alcoholic sort.

“Alright,” said Mara, peering at the bottle and then smiling a bit shyly at her. “Thank you, Doctor Rezanic, for your help today. I’m...not sure what this will all do yet, but I feel like I can sleep at least. And I feel like I can talk to you...about how I feel about things. I guess we’ll see how it goes right?” she took a few deep breaths and her usual air of charm and easygoing self control had reappeared as though by magic, and she got up with supple grace. “Precious, viens avec Maman! Good bye Doctor, have a good day.” and with that she breezed out of the room with gliding steps. As she did so, Doctor Rezanic took a moment to arrange her notes and she hear her frog, still unnamed, sing happily in his moist little cage. She sat by the desk and began to compile a list of necessary follow-up appointment plans. She then took a sip of her own mixed sweet tea, and looked at the blanket on the couch, and blankly looked for a moment, she then took a breath, inhaling as she then smiled.

“Those times were happy but so short. I feel like it was too short, but I will never be able to replace what was lost, but I will teach her the way I learned, how to cope with the loss.” She said to her frog in a sing songy voice. “But you’ll see, things will improve. I look forward to great progress.” Amyris said as she stepped out of her office and smiled in relief.

[New Edom]

Elise Lamontagne was a Lazodirian masseuse, came to New Edom originally as part of a foreign NGO, the Isidium Foundation, while she was studying in Adiron. A pretty brunette with blue eyes. lustrous, wavy dark hair tied loosely on her head, falling around her narrow, small-mouthed, green-eyed face; slim build with well-defined arms, small breasts held in a sports bra under a white tank top, and gently-curving hips; emanating a faint, pleasant scent of massage oil and sweat; she was unmarried and was considered to be of dubious moral behaviour lately because she was dating a member of the Cavalry Guards but had a boyfriend in Lazodiria apparently, in graduate studies for applied physics.

Father Emmaeus had had her transferred, reluctantly, upon Prince Enoch's insistence that they cooperate with the Queen's therapists, to the Royal Estate Clinic as opposed to the general Royal Clinic where she had been serving members of the staff mostly.

Elise had been interviewed briefly by the Queen, and was very excited, since she had never worked for someone so important before. At the same time, being a Lazodorian, she was not in awe, as in Lazodirian the monarch is part of the national government and is rather down to earth. Mara had struck her that way as well, as a kind and good person, so she was not worried. All rumours about the Queen were that she was fair and kind to those who worked for her.

In her later report, she wrote tot he therapists as follows: The Queen is experiencing a great deal of upper and lower back tension, as well as stomach muscle tensions which may be due to regular vomiting. Some of her muscles in her calf and rotational cuff areas are i believe due to lack of proper rest. Massage has eased the tensions but I believe that a nutritionist should be consulted to help her keep food down.

The Queen seems to prefer light conversation and physical interaction to discussion of her feelings which are naturally private to her. i do not of course wish to step on anyone's toes so please take this as an observation. She enjoyed being massaged very much particularly her back, legs and gluteal area. She dozed briefly after her massage and I left her in peace for half an hour but was required to wake her by members of her senior staff for some official business.

Gomer Manasseh, the physical therapist, had been a member of the staff for some time, by contrast, as part of the nursing staff. She was a strongly built dark olive skinned Baran woman with dark hair in a military bob. She had also never dealt with the Queen directly and was fascinated and in awe, could not help but be, but was urged by Father Emmaeus that she needed to do her work well. "We need more of our people around her, not all these damned heretic and unbelieving foreigners,' he said firmly.

Gomer dressed on this occasion very conventionally, no special makeup, in a regular nurse's uniform, mid-length pale blue cotton dress and white apron, though beneath it she wore nothing of course.

"I am so honoured to be working directly with Your Majesty," said Gomer, bowing deeply. "I have been told to start fresh records to work with the new medical staff, but will be guided by previous work with Your Majesty's doctors. I would like to ask Your Majesty's permission to ask personal and intimate questions."

Mara laughed. Her laugh made Gomer flush, her heart leap. It was a laugh that seemed unforced and yet had a sorrow beneath it. "Go ahead, everyone else is lately."

There were many questions for the records, as she explained, and also to build up a background that might be relevant.The Queen was having trouble sleeping, eating, and going to the bathroom. At first the questions were routine, but gradually became more personal. Mara was asked if she masturbated, how often and whether she used any special devices, when she last had sex (with a man) and if he used protection, whether it was straight or included oral, anal or something else, if she ever thought about sex with another woman, and whether she had used any devices.

"Only with the King Consort," Mara answered her. Her eyes were damp. "You're going to talk to the other medical staff about this? Even Father Emmaeus?"

"Yes Majesty, but only them," she said.

Mara stared at her. "I have answered you. I will swear that the only person I have made love to is my husband over the last year, and that was on our wedding night and several times on our honeymoon. It was vaginal, oral, and..." she made a jogging motion with her hand.

Gomer was embarrassed and bowed her head. "I did not think Majesty...I know any woman can be tempted..."

"Well, its the truth," Mara said with a shrug.

"Will Your Majesty be kind enough to disrobe?" asked Gomer. "Er...do I help or..."

"I can take my own clothes off," Mara replied. Gomer was both intrigued, scandalized to find that it was true: the Queen had no tan lines, she was a lovely olive warm lightly browned all over her curvy body. It was strange that the Queen was not as beautiful as her younger sister and yet drew the eyes more somehow. She looked thinner than she should be.

There followed the routine tests – height and weight, blood pressure, eye and throat examination, reflexes, stethoscope, temperature (taken orally). Gomer asked her to sit up on the exam table while she took the various measurements. Gomer sounded her back and chest, then asked Mara to raise her arms in order to check for any lumps of inflamed lymph nodes under her arms.

Mara's beautiful bosom distracted her while she checked them for any lumps or oversensitivity. There was a lot of dry skin around Mara's joints and where her skin folded, which she made note of for the rest of the medical team.

Finally, she obtained a blood, urine and stool sample from the Queen. The last required an enema, which the Queen was apparently used to. Gomer reluctantly put that in her report as well.

The Queen's bodily functions are a concern, as she is intoxicated regularly and often throws up her food; as a result of this most of what she is digesting is not processing well. Strongly agree with masseuse about nutritionist and discussion of improvement of diet.

Father Emmaeus was furious about all this. He fell to his knees before Mara as she was walking her dog along a path, and said in a heavy voice, "I have failed you, my Queen. I swore to your father I would do my part to protect you, and all this invasive attention...I am not fit to be your Confessor or doctor. I have failed. I ask that you send me away into some exile..."

Mara said, her voice shaking, "What, you want to leave me too? You taught me how to read...you sang the first Psalm I remember, and now you want to leave me, old man?"

Father Emmaeus said, "But all these doctors, these foreigners..."

Mara put a hand on his greying head and said, "Father, you are one of my last links with the old days. Do you want to leave me?"

He looked up into her tormented eyes and whispered, "Never. I would die for my Queen."

Mara took a deep breath. "Then remain. You're right, it is pretty damned invasive. Who told that woman to ask about my sex life, anyway?"

"It's these therapists, Majesty. They have some...modern ideas. Foreign ideas." Emmaeus said, his eyes darkening.

"Well...they might be doing me some good. Weinstein says my name you know, I like it when people say my name..."

"You mean he calls you by your Christian name?" gasped Emmaeus.

"Yes," Mara said with a smile, blushing. "I told him he could."

"Damned insolence, he should have refused," growled the priest. "I will speak to him about it. He's a Jew, you know."

Mara shrugged. "I like Jews. They're interesting. LIke that reporter in Fineberg, Saul Bar-Ehud, he writes good articles. Anyway don't be angry with him,, i told him to. Father Emmaeus, I trust you most of all. I feel so at sea though...as though I'm drifting. Don't send them away. I have to keep my options open. I have to figure this out, somehow. Alright?"

Father Emmaeus kissed the hem of her dress. "As Your Majesty bids, I obey."

[Hittanryan]

Padan-Aran

Mara sat on a grassy knoll looking down at part of the estate where Cavalry Guards officers were drilling in show jumping and dressage. The horses were beautiful to her, sleek and well formed, satiny coats, muscles playing easily under them, manes and tails tossing neatly, the riders as beautiful to her. Some, on their break, were leading sets of horses to the river to bathe them, riding naked. She felt envy thicken in her throat. Precious yipped shrilly to warn her that Doctor Weinstein was approaching.

Mara wore a sundress--a kind of garment she loved--with pleated skirt and spaghetti straps, embroidered with little daisies, the skirt spread around her upper legs and hips, and her hair was rather wild today, undressed, tumbling in waves around her supple shoulders, occasionally blowing around her face in the breeze.

Weinstein had made sure they would have privacy ahead of time. Last thing they needed was for prying ears to invade their space. He was wearing a casual business suit as usual, lighter weight for the tropical heat. Approaching Mara and Precious, Weinstein bowed and greeted her. “Hello Mara, enjoying the weather?”

Mara giggled “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize that this was a formal meeting--you walked up here in dress shoes and a suit?” she patted the ground. “Sit down, I have a little picnic basket here with some chilled drinks and stuff in it...thirsty?”

“Oh, thank you,” he said, sitting down and finding a drink. “These are just work clothes, I didn’t even think anything of it. I’m comfortable,” Weinstein replied. Glancing out at the riders, he asked “Watching the horses? I’m afraid I don’t know much about them, other than races. What are they doing out there?”

The drinks had a hint of sweetness--the one Weinstein had picked up was honey-lemon green tea, but it was more cool and light than strongly sweet. She smiled and it softened her face. “Those are Cavalry Guardsmen--the regiment assigned as the Army part of my bodyguard. They mostly ride horses for ceremonies these days, though they also patrol in town--and they have to look good doing it. It’s also fun. They practice dressage--that’s all the fancy moves, you know?--and show jumping and polo.” she giggled again “My ancestors did it with goat carcasses or the heads of enemies.” she sipped her own drink and almost sputtered it with laughter. “Only today queens would do it with the heads of frenemies, right?”

“And probably figuratively, rather than literally,” Weinstein said with a smile. “I’ve seen them around town. There are horse shows back home too, I suppose some of them are probably dressage and jumping. There was one I heard about on the news though which was different. They actually do horseback archery, shooting targets while riding. It was some very old tradition supposedly brought over from Hostillia. I’ve never been though, they hold the shows farther south from where I live.”

“That’s fun,” Mara said with a smile. “We have some regiments that do traditional mounted javelin stuff. I’m not that good, but I can ride pretty well, I did a bit of show jumping, pure amateur stuff. I love horses. You need to meet mine sometime, they’re beautiful, so lovely...proof that God is good in some ways.”

“Sure, I’d like that. What kind of horses are they? What are their names?” Weinstein asked, noting the sudden mention of god for the first time but not pressing the issue for now. She was smiling, too.

“Well, I have Zephyr who is my bay gelding, and he’s lovely and I adore him and I wish Michael had his personality,” she said with an impish smile. “And there is Evinrude, who is a stallion and is so bad, such a bad boy, but I can’t help but love him too. He’s such a good jumper but he gets temperamental and tries to make everyone spoil him because he’s a Barb and he’s full of piss and vinegar. Then there’s Spotty, who is an Appaloosa and is a mare and she is very smart and funny, and very greedy and I think shes getting fat.” Mara said all this rather quickly, suddenly lighting up.

Weinstein was keeping note of her demeanor. She was animated, smiling, joking, and affectionate. “They sound like they all have a lot of personality. You have a real bond with animals, Mara,” Weinstein said, then briefly nodded over in Precious’ direction. “Him included.”

“Animals are better than people in lots of ways, but we are the ones who rule, Mara said. She stroked Precious a moment as he lay happily panting, and poured more water into a little dish for him. “There will be animals in heaven before any person.”

Another reference to religion. He supposed it was time to begin. “So, how are you feeling today, Mara?”

Mara yawned. “A bit sleepy. A bit like a horse--or at least a domestic animal--myself..I got poked and prodded for hours by that massage therapist and physical therapist Doc Rezanic got Father Emmaeus to hire. The massage wasn’t bad -though...I feel sleepy all the time lately. And I’m going to get a dietician, I guess to help with my condition and help me keep more food down. Actually I woke up super hungry today and I ate half a pita sandwich...and I didn’t throw it up, but it was pretty mild, yeah, just cucumbers, sprouts, tomatoes and a little radish and tahini...nothing fancy.”

“I know what you mean, it must feel like you’re being scrutinized a lot lately. I’m glad to hear you could hold some food down today though,” Weinstein sympathized. “We’re trying to be thorough. There’s all sorts of things that they might spot, and there’s all sorts of things they can do to help. At the beginning they’ve got to do all those tests, though. We want to make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“Can you tell me how the rest of your week went?” Weinstein asked.

“I had a talk with Rezanic...I guess it went well,” she said, smoothing out her skirt. “I talked to a couple of people on the phone that I used to spend more time with. After I talked to Rezanic I had a long nap, that was nice. You know what? I didn’t think it would matter, marrying Michael,” she suddenly said. “But I was thinking about that, and thinking that it really does matter. I feel like I’ve been really sad for a long time and I can’t really...hold it in anymore. It feels like too much.” she was silent for a while, watching horses and riders. “He’s cutting around those barrels too wide. He’s going to lose points for that.”

“I would feel the same way, to be perfectly honest,” Weinstein said sincerely, taking a drink as he noted Mara drift off a bit. “What do you suppose led you to think that, Mara?”

Mara was quiet a bit more as though she had not heard. Then after a bit she said, “It’s weird saying it. My father dead. My cousin Olivia gone from me. My uncle Mark and my cousin David gone, one dead the other just...gone. Disgraced. My truest dearest love denied to me. When Doc Rezanic said it was a lot to deal with...she was right. She has a beautiful name. Like a flower. Amyris Rezanic.” she said softly. “And you know...I’ve seen awful things too. Horrible things. And I have to do so much, and yet I can only do so much. It’s too much. I need my little refuge. Maybe I just….need to be here for a bit, to be in the only good place I have left. But...they always go. They always get taken away.” Her expression was sad but remote, almost calm in her sorrow.

“Dr. Rezanic was right: after all that, the emotions you’re feeling are normal. There’s nothing wrong with feeling sad or afraid after everything you’ve been through,” Weinstein assured her. “I think you’re justifiably feeling afraid of what might come next. That's called anxiety. It's a manifestation of fear. It means you're afraid of something happening, but you don't know exactly what it is or when it will happen.”

“Yes, I am,” said Mara. “I’m afraid of...the other shoe dropping.”

“That must have been hard, living with that uncertainty hanging over you for so long after having lost so much already,” Weinstein replied. “I know what it’s like, Mara, I do. My son, he enlisted in the army last year. It was something he had to do for his own reasons, Iris and I both knew we couldn’t take that away from him.”

“But we still worry. He’s stationed far away from where we live, a long way off to the east, and it’s not easy to visit. We know he’s doing all right now, but...we watch the news more. We hope it doesn’t get bad again. He’s a soldier now, it’s what he trained for, it’s what he wanted, but he’s still Ronnie to us.” Weinstein looked at the ground a moment.

“I’m sorry to hear that you miss him so,” Mara said with a sad smile at him. “May God protect him. I will make sure prayers are said for him, and I will have an icon blessed that he can be given through a mail package if you like.”

“Thank you, Mara, though empty nesters go through this all the time, really,” Weinstein said.

“Let’s try something. I’d like you to think of a time when you really felt safe and secure. When you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop or anxious about what the next day would bring...” he trailed off, Precious was sniffing his hand next to him. Coaxing the dog into his arms gently, Weinstein then handed him to Mara with a smile. “Here, maybe Precious can help.”

Mara took Precious in her arms. She sniffed his warm fur and rubbed the silkiness against her cheek. “It’s hard to remember sometimes in a way that feels like it matters.” she closed her eyes. “I remember...getting Precious. He was so small, like a little furry wind up toy, yipping. Papa smiling at me, I’m in my mid teens I think. Mama…” she shivered. “Mama is smiling too. She tells me to tuck my skirt down. She kisses me on the cheek and asks if I’m enjoying my birthday. I remember it. Everything felt like I knew what would happen tomorrow. I remember Uncle Mark complaining about how much noise Precious would make, and I told him I’d train him so he wouldn’t…” she smiled faintly, “And he said Precious was a silly name for a dog…” her voice faltered and she buried her face in Precious’ coat again.

“Hold onto that feeling, if you can,” Weinstein said. “Precious is still here with you today. So are Zephyr, Evinrude, and Spotty. You love them all, I can tell. How does it feel when you’re playing with him? Or riding?”

“I can forget myself for a little bit. Sometimes,” Mara said.

“That’s good. Part of our treatment will be teaching you strategies of managing your emotions when they feel overwhelming. One way of doing that is distraction, doing something that changes your mood, something that breaks through that fear and makes you feel at ease,” Weinstein explained. “Does that make sense, before I continue?”

“My mood.” Mara mused a moment, then suddenly said to him in a shaking voice, staring at him, “My mood? You think this is about my mood? What do you know about it? It’s not about my mood! It’s that my father was assassinated. It’s that my mother is plotting to control all my money and make me do whatever she wants. It’s that I have to dance around a wall, walk on eggshells because there are people stupid enough to start another civil war, think they know more than me...and I guess they do….and would if I gave them the slightest hint. It’s that my own...my...ha ha ha...government arrested members of my court and my family because they broke old laws in the Morality Act. My best friend got married and sent off by her bastard of a brother, I hope he rots forever in that monastery. And when I finally did get married, my husband stupidly, unrealistically wants me to fall in love with him, so that I had to move away from him. You think my nightmares are about anxiety? They’re about stuff I’m afraid is actually going to happen. How in the world is talking about my MOOD going to help? This…” she brushed angry tears from her cheeks. “This is Enoch’s idea because he’s grasping at straws. I know you’re trying to help. Lord and gosh almighty, everyone’s trying to help. Lord above…” she buried her face in her knees as she drew them up to her body a moment, and then whispered, in a muffled voice, “Can’t we just sit and look at the horses a moment?”

When Mara finally cracked, it erupted all at once. Weinstein knew fear was at the root of it all. She feared isolation and being turned into a performer. She feared prisons, at least three varieties. She feared for her life. And she was...what, a year or two older than Ron? There’s no way she could have been prepared for this. Weinstein himself wasn’t even sure he’d be prepared for that level of danger...then again, here he was.

Weinstein fished a box of tissues and some wipes out of the bag he brought with him and set them next to Mara. “Of course we can sit for a moment,” he said. Without really thinking, he reached over to rub her back as she let it out, briefly asking “Is this all right?” before he started.

“You have every right to be afraid, Mara,” he said quietly. “That fear is real, with everything you’ve been through it is normal. It’s normal to feel afraid with the tragedies you’ve faced in your life. You are strong enough to control that fear, though. Dr. Rezanic and I can teach you how.”

With a deep sigh, Mara leaned against him a moment, and closed her eyes. “Thanks,” she whispered, and dabbed at her eyes with tissues. “She said that too...Rezanic...that it is normal to have these feelings. I...don’t know anyone in my family who does...maybe Olivia but…not really when I think about it. No one. I never felt it was okay. It’s hard to feel it is okay now.”

“It is okay, Mara. I understand why you’d feel otherwise with everything under the microscope,” Weinstein said, continuing to comfort her. “Fear is something we all feel. It’s one of our oldest instincts: fight or flight. It can save us sometimes, when we’re in real danger. It’s part of what makes us human.”

Mara thought about that a moment, and said, “You know it’s weird...but I feel a little better hearing that...I mean...not better better, but better about feeling bad…” she laughed softly. “If that makes sense.”

“I know just what you mean. There is nothing wrong with the way you feel, Mara. Put anyone in your position, knowing what you know and seeing what you’ve seen, and they would feel the same way,” he said.

“Could you use a hug? If not from me, Precious would probably accommodate you,” he offered.

“I could…” Mara said, “But...you won’t be offended if I hug Precious instead? People around here don’t really know you well yet and I have a reputation, doncha know…” she smiled at him and hugged Precious, who licked her face.

“This is about you, Mara, it’s whatever you want,” Weinstein said with a smile. He handed her a bottle of iced tea from the basket. “It’s like I said the day we met, our emotions are all real, and you’ve been through more than most. It’s how we cope that gets us from one day to the next.”

[Seelelander]

Cowritten with the Good Sport Ghant

The Office of Dr. Rezanic
The City of Padan Aran, Bara, New Edom

The radiant daystar cast its luminous glow upon the city below, the endless expanse spread across the sky. Hewn with azure strands, the horizon was laced with clouds creating an arch, which was where the earth and sky met one another. The silvery swirling clouds crossed through the golden shafts of light, which kissed the fertile dells, with the city of Padan-Aran at its heart. The luscious verdant gnolls were reaching up toward the gleaming flecks of gold poured down upon them from the heavens, which . The glistening lea was catching the rays, nourishing the wending grapevines which curled around trellises. These were the very same trellises which held up the plants so they could catch its warming caress, which would then be sold on the market streets. From a distance one could not hear those markets. Instead, the feathered symphony could be heard, with the merry minstrels chirping and fluttering, upon the wind. The buzz became louder as one reached closer to the city, as the people clamored with the daily chatter becoming a roar of voices, with each person going about their daily business. The various vocalizations not giving rise to the unease that lay unspoken. Within the Estate of the Royal family, the unease was measured not by the murmuring, but rather by the silence. The silence which spoke of the precariousness which lie behind circumstances never touched upon. Beyond Padan-Aran, Mara’s cousin led the purge with zeal, eliminating state enemies. As he did so, this little refuge chattered on, a quiet respite from those underlying fears which screamed louder than any words could express. The very screams whose echoes hid in the heart of a woman, began to gnaw and tear at her. It was rending her mind, body, and soul as her devoted husband Michael struggled with his own inner demons.

New Edom was to him a sea of repose, where around him he was beset on all sides by temptation. Soft forms of comely figures, with slender figures and exotically beautiful faces unfamiliar to his eyes. He could see them everywhere, hues of bared and burnished skin of various colors. The long velvety lashes all around him, those half-moon cheekbones, the shapely bosoms, and smooth backsides that called to his attention no matter where he looked. They were not hidden behind the lush dreamscape which seemed to cover him on all sides. He had perhaps not prepared himself for what had come from marrying the Edomite Queen, as she was far from interested in him in an emotionally intimate manner. Thus he was left alone, forced to face the vows he made that day when he only had himself to rely on for comfort. There was a moment of awareness as the door before him was the office of Amyris Rezanic, Ph.D. The woman who was attempting to treat his wife for her depression. This was the very same depression that made her reclusive, so reclusive that she hid from everyone, even him. He had never seen her face, nor had he any idea what was going on between her and his wife. He had been sent a card with a signature by Doctor Amyris Rezanic, a name that sounded strange, foreign to his ears. As the door was opened, one could see the room, the cream colored walls, with the soft fluffy carpeting and a hand-woven rug which rest at its center, and it had asymmetrically woven with repeating designs a diamond shaped medallion at its center, and it was woven with gold, brown, red, and bronze threads, with flowers, and various other designs on the floor. There was a walnut wood desk in the corner with a tree frog in a small cage, the singing could occasionally be heard, and the musty scent of the room was offset by a wonderfully scented potpourri.

Michael waltzed into the room with a relaxed gait and a lazy yawn, soaking in the colors and contents of the room. He didn’t really think much of it, other than it giving him a sense of calm with the aura of gentle invitation. The King Consort found a comfortable looking seat and sat down, stretching out in it the way a slacker might…like my brother-in-law. He was wearing a casual suit, was cleanshaven, and had his black hair cut short and trimmed neatly. His deep blue eyes stared out blankly at the wall in front of him, anticipating his meeting with the shrink.

The doctor entered from behind him, the door softly creaking as the door behind her shut and she turned towards him exposed and unadorned . She stood before him, her beguiling bosom like her sweet honey brown skin, which was bronzed under the golden rays of the sun. Full and tempting forbidden fruit before him, and they were both round and firm, and soft as satin. Her torso was long, and her waist slender as if attempting to tease him with all the wiles a woman could offer. As if that dainty and exquisite refinement could, itself, not be outdone, there was the firm tautness of her tush, her form kept in perfect shape, and flawless with an exotic touch and even further outdone when she was in movement, as she stepped as if dancing, swaying from those hips, her voluptuous form swaying with them. Her eyes were a soft emerald color, with hues of blue around her iris, inviting him to stare deep into them, cloaked by their natural adornment of finely spun languid eyelashes, which were as dark and black as her long lustrous locks. Her lips were soft and scarlet red, as she had bruised herself earlier, having bitten her lip as she had earlier taken a bite of a pastry, and she applied that smooth glossiness to cover the difference, but it had certainly made her seductive smirk even more effective, as her lips were full and they were even in injury as flawless as the rest of her form was. Her voice was a soft purr, sweet and buttery as if the soft silkiness brushed against his ears with a tender fondle every time she moved her lips.

“Your Highness, I presume.” The woman said with an arching of her eyebrow, and she took her notepad which she carried in her purse with her. “Amyris Rezanic, at your service.” She bowed and looked over at him after, giving him a perfect view from the angle he saw her from in all ways. “We shall speak at last?”

...Seriously? You have got to be fucking kidding me, Michael thought as the very attractive shrink stood naked in front of him. Michael squirmed a bit and wiggled in his seat as he talked to her chest. Fuck it, no sense in beating around the bush… sure enough, he did in fact, stare at her bush too, his eyes drinking in her body the way a child oogles a new bicycle. “...I...uh...I mean...yes, you presume correctly...doctor. Tits...I mean it’s a great pleasure to...meet you...and yes...we can...speak...although the sight of you is...quite distracting and it...might make it...hard...so hard...to concentrate.”

“Sight? Oh this?” She asked as she gestured at herself for a moment, drawing attention as she almost spoke ’come hither’ with her body language. “There is nothing to worry about, but if you prefer for propriety’s sake. I can wear clothes from home, and we can speak more.” She said, with that still warm purr to her accent, and she smiled and leaned over. “I shall return in just a moment, and when I am fully clothed, we can speak more openly about your wonderful wife, yes?” She asked as she seemed to not notice at all how much of Merovani body language was very much like a dance, the normal way she spoke included gestures and full movement with her hips and swerving which did almost appear like shimmying as she stepped lithely on her small feet, rushing to change into her clothing, but in a way, he would already have that lingering sentiment, for there were few joys more joysome than a beautiful woman, but Amyris was not purely a beautiful woman. No, she was a sensuous woman whose entire body oozed sex appeal, which is why her mother could never find a suitable husband for her, and her father had kept men away from her up until the day he died with a spread out shotgun on his chair as he sat in front of their home, in a nice comfortable rocking chair.

“Wait.” Michael called out. “Do we have...doctor-patient confidentiality?” ...Am I about to go balls deep in my wife’s therapist? No...I can’t do that...can I?

“Anything said to me shall not only be kept secret,” She said as she slightly turned to face him with a dancer’s pivot, “But I am legally bound to keep every word secret until death, or I guarantee my own death. It’s quite clear the seriousness of doctor confidentiality is not merely just a job of keeping secrets, but an oath. Now… is there something you wish to tell me? You can tell me whatever you need. C’mon, I won’t bite.” She said with a little smirk, and a bounce in her step. “Well, maybe a little,” She said as bawdy humor was entirely not taboo in her culture, but naturally, she did hold her pen in her hand, fondling it, waiting for the moment to note something important, her fingers practically trembling for that moment.

God damnit I don’t want to get purged, Michael thought as he shifted in his seat, feeling like a man in an electric chair. “...You...uh...wanted to talk about...Mara, right? Not really sure what to say there. She just...kind of did a 180 after our...honeymoon.”

“Did you consummate your marriage?” She asked nonchalantly as she took her pen and began to hold it in her hand, moving it up and down as she wrote on her notepad. “If yes, was there a change from after the first time to the second time?” She asked as she then waited for his answer and she took the pen and tilted her head ever so slightly.

“Uh...yeah.” Michael answered as he began to sweat and feel the tingling in his pants intensify. “...Before the first time...she didn’t know what...to expect. She was all like...’I’m not going to break’...but I ended up demonstrating my...abilities in bed...so come the second time...she was aware of what I was capable of...for I am a Dakmaran, and loving...is what we do best. Hot, passionate, intense...sex…” Michael had to close his eyes hard for a moment.

“Now, I know this can be hard for you, but this is important. Did she ever have a moment where she appeared to suffer pain or discomfort from your execution of the deed, or performance, as it were?” She asked as she noted things carefully and then she ran the pen over her lips for a moment, and let the top enter her mouth, subconsciously doing so. “Ah, apologies, sucking the pen is a bad habit I have.”

...sucking is never a bad habit, Michael thought as he watched it like a lion watches a gazelle in tall grass. “...Uh...not that I am aware of...although there were times on the honeymoon that...I felt as though she might have been...forcing things a bit just to please me. It’s very hard, trying to understand her...not sure how much I can give you in that regard…”

“I see… well then, I have another question… when did it all start off, I mean, by her becoming uncomfortable. Not just in performance, but also in her day-to-day?” The lady asked as the head of her pen once again found its way into her mouth, and she removed the cap with her tongue and blew it into her hand as she had very decent breathing, she slightly wiped her lips off with a giggle. “Forgive me, I do hate those being on the thing, they inhibit my movement. Hand has to be right and well enough to pump out reports constantly.”

Man, this is hotter than Nathan’s bachelor party, Michael thought. Not even Sophia was aware of the level of debauchery of that event. “...It started when we got back...from vacation.”

“Do you remember any specific events that happened at the vacation that felt significant to you? Something that called out to you as odd or unusual?” Amyris asked as she still seemed to keep that calm expression, without the slightest bit of distraction from his words.

“...Well...she didn’t say anything to me...but, she had her cell phone with her...so she was presumably being kept up to speed on...events back home.” Michael explained as he continued to study the shrink’s body like a science project. “...While we were gone...her cousin, Count Thomas Lalery, and her friend, Lavinia Nabal, got arrested...and her other friend Olympia Domris...had a baby…”

“And nothing of note happened with you and her specifically? Or was her attention fully absorbed in what occurred back home?” The lady asked as she leaned against the doorframe.

“...Like I said...I felt as though when we were together...she was just trying to please me...as if she was forcing herself to do it...because she wasn’t entirely invested in it or something.” Michael said. “I mean...some of it is my fault...she just wanted to enjoy our honeymoon and be leisurely...rest and relaxation, not dealing with the pressure and stresses of...court. Things might have been easier if I didn’t...try to create so much intimacy...I feel like if I just got on top of her, did a...pump and dump, blew my load and then went off to do my own thing, maybe it wouldn’t have...overwhelmed her. She clearly wasn’t...comfortable with that degree of...intimacy, and I wanted to give her everything that I had to offer. Because I felt like...that was what she deserved...everything that I had to offer...but I was blind to see that maybe she...didn’t want that.” Michael explained, forcing himself to look at the floor.

“You did your best, it seems. I shall return to Her Majesty’s side soon, so I must go. I thank you for this information, good and helpful so far, Your Highness.” Amyris said with a smile. “Not a single word will come from my lips. Now, I’ve to return to my duties.” She said as she stepped out with four pages of notes and a satisfied expression.

“Wait!” Michael called out as she was leaving…don’t...don’t be an idiot...this is a test...a trap, he tried to warn himself.

“Yes?” The lady asked as she looked at him, the intensity returning to her gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

God forgive me. “...I was wondering if you wanted to...add a little more to your notes...could you maybe spare another...ten to fifteen minutes?” Michael asked.

“What would you like me to add? I have enough to segue tomorrow’s session in such a way that her Majesty will not even know you told me a word, after all, is not all of these things public knowledge or things that are only relevant to her health? Don’t worry. It will be fine.” She said with a brush against his cheek with her finger. “Now, I must go, but don’t fret. You have more time to speak to me if you wish to perhaps schedule your own appointments, and that way we can talk more about it.”

“...You don’t have everything.” Michel said as the finger on his cheek felt like fire. He closed the gap between them, going for the kiss and a hand on the back of her neck… As he did so she took a moment and froze and didn’t say a word, blushing as it was perhaps unexpected for her, and she then raised her eyebrows and leaned against the door as she opened it and pressed against it, attempting to find her way out of his grasp.

Michael pulled himself away and exhaled, feeling breathless. “Have a nice day, Amyris.” That was the end of that, it would seem.

[Seelelander]

PAIN & STRESS COPING SKILLS INITIAL ASSESSMENT

Referred by: Paul Gath, Undersecretary of Health in the Ministry of Health of New Edom

Patient name:█████████████████████
Location: [LOCATION REDACTED]

Subjective Observations: The patient reports intense feelings of anxiety, depression, and isolation. She also reports feelings of grief over the loss of her father, and the inability to experience comfort or arousal from her husband. She also reports the inability to cope with the stress of daily life at court, and she no longer has the ability to function as needed to perform her duties. She reports fatigue, and she reports a lack of interest in all of the things she once enjoyed. She reports difficulties concentrating and difficulties eating, and she is unable to sustain her normal relationships with her family, court, and friends. She is having frequent nightmares, which also gives her worst feelings of fatigue.

Objective Observations:

Mood: Anhedonia, Labile, Alexithymia, Depressed, Anxious, Guilty,

Physiological: decreased appetite, weight fluctuations, restlessness, initial insomnia, diminished libido, constipation, muscle tension, rapid breathing, inability to concentrate, substance abuse, gastrointestinal distress, nightmares. Patient has torpor, cataplexy, verbigeration, and psychomotor agitation.

Thought Processes: are pleasure-oriented, emotional, and have various cognitive distortions. Evidence of cognitive distortions exist in the form of personalization, circumstantiality, tangentiality, verbigeration, abulia, derailment, knight’s move thinking,

Speech: is clear, logical, intact, spontaneous and coherent. No known speech impairments at the time.

Perception: is intact, and well. No known sensory disorders at this time. No known hallucinations of any kind.

DEPRESSIVE SYMPTOMATOLOGY:
Within the last two weeks the patient has admitted to experiencing:

1. Sad or depressed mood daily
2. Loss of interest or pleasure in most activities
3.Feelings of hopelessness, guilt, or worthlessness
4. Fatigue or loss of energy daily
5.Diminished ability to concentrate or make decisions
6. Night terrors almost daily
7. Significant weight fluctuations
8. Feeling restless and slowed down
9. Diminished willpower to sleep.

PAIN RELATED BEHAVIORS observed include bracing, guarding, and ambulates slowly. the patient complains about cramping in her leg fairly regularly, and has reported its increase.

PAIN STATUS REPORT: (Maximum Subject Rating is 10 points)
5 Average Pain for the Report session

SUICIDE & VIOLENCE ASSESSMENT:

A. There is no evidence of self-injurious ideation, intent or plans
B. There is no risk of violence, aggression, or homicide.
C. The patient exhibits no current evidence of delusions, psychotic thoughts, perceptual disturbances or poor impulse control.

THOUGHT CONTENT focuses on insomnia, muscle tension, gastrointestinal stress resembling acute Gastritis, functional restrictions, depressed mood, and high anxiety. She reports that there are mild, moderate, to severe significant increase in pain and stress which significantly interfere with her daily activity. The patient would benefit from continued serial assessment of her distress severity, and she requires didactic information on chronic pain, depression, anxiety, stress, and the gate control theory. The patient was instructed to self-monitor pain, emotion, and activity level.

ASSESSMENT:

1. Level of functioning: Severe impairment
2.Stressors: Occupational, Marital, Family
3. Motivation: Low
4. Insight: limited
5. Judgement: limited
6. Treatment Compliance: Good

Diagnostic Impression:

1. Major Depressive Disorder
2. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
3. Anxiety Disorder
4. High Risk for Substance Abuse
5. Dysthymia

PLAN:

1. Follow up with the Physical Therapist
2. Request a gastroenterological specialist
3. Request for Sleep Study
4. Prescription for Prazosin
5. Monitor Medication compliance as prescribed.
6. Begin Stress Inoculation Therapy (SIT)
7. Begin eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR)
8. Introduce progressive muscle relaxation
9. Begin Image Rehearsal Therapy (IRT)
10. Prescription for Sertraline
11.Prescription for Alprazolam

Amyris Rezanic
National Rx Security

1-877-555-0125  
1-877-555-3186




Name:█████████████████████  
Age: 26

Address: [LOCATION REDACTED] 

Take 1 mg prazosin orally at bedtime. 
Take 50mg of Sertraline orally in the morning
Take 0.5mg of Alprazolam orally in the morning, and at night. 
Reserve 0.25 Alprazolam for PRN basis. 

Refill:  NR 1 2 3 4 5
MD

[New Edom]

Padan-Aran, New Edom

Queen Mara, first of that name, lay on her back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Part of the shadow pattern on the ceiling made her think of a person's face--like a man she had seen selling nuts on the streets of Fineberg one day, a century ago it felt like, when her father had been alive.

She was aware of the day growing, the sun rising, and of people whispering outside her door. Her personal maid, Tegan, a slim and fair Elwe girl who had been raised as her companion and later her maid, came in with a tray of food to tempt her; the smell of hot mint tea, warm naan brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with rosemary and sea salt, soft goat cheese and a sliced mango was there. She turned away and faced the wall now. Tegan after a while walked quietly out.

Her dog, Precious, a black fluffy Pommeranian, came and jumped on the bed. She felt the small weight of him, pattering towards her, sniffing at her face, licking her ear, nuzzling her, and she cuddled him more ut of relfe than desire.

Sometimes she thought of a popular song.

There is no pain you are receding
As distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you say
When I was a child I have a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain, you would not understand
This is not how I am
I have become comfortably numb.

She finally forced herself to get up and went to the bathroom--and fought the temptation to simply tune out, both on the toilet and in the shower. She stood in the shower, head bent towards the wall, ,letting it rain down over her endlessly before finally deciding she needed to soap herself. She was shocked at how she looked in the mirror, shocked at how fuzzy her teeth felt, how sick she felt.

She didn't bother to dress yet; she simply put on a red and black kimono and went barefoot to her dining room where she sat and finally ate breakfast; it was fresh again. Tegan did not hug her in front of the other servants, but gently passed a hand over Mara's arm while glancing at her. Mara gently held a finger a moment and then read the news while she ate slowly. The food tasted like ashes; she was tired of pretending it did not and ate mechanically. Then she realized she was about to throw up, and she said, ,"Bucket, Tegan...for the love of God..."

Tegan grabbed an ice bucket for champagne out of a cupboard in the next room, barely getting it to Mara in time. She heaved, it burned, and she wiped her mouth, rinsed with mint tea and burst into sobs that tore at her throat and made her stomach heave again.

In a muffled strangled voice she screamed for the rest of the servants to leave her, and found herself in Tegan's arms, her hair stroked, her mouth rinsed again, and she wept with throat aching sobs.

---

Father Emmaeus grunted as he read the report from Rezanic. He was dubious, Mara didn't seem to take well to pharmaceuticals, would complain of metallic tastes, fuzzy mindedness, poor digestion. Well, after dconsulting with his other staff he found nothing obviously wrong with her prescriptions and sent the list to the pharmacist that was attached to the Household, who in turn placed an order with Montana Pharmaceuticals, which had a direct contract with them as their supplier.

Then he knelt in prayer, asking God to forgive him for his desire that the regimen should fail, and correct his hard heart that the cures would work. Create in him a pure and devoted servant to the Household, the Queen, the nation, and the Church.

---

Later that day, Mara forced herself to exercise Zephyr, her bay gelding. She put on a pair of old worn jeans, a work shirt, riding boots and tied her hair in a ponytail will Tegan's assistance, and then asked Tegan to take the day off while she planned to spend the afternoon riding.

She did it in a leisurely way, her energy was often so low she felt exhausted after the simplest tasks. But she mixed together three parts barley, three parts oats, and four parts of dried carrot pellets to give Spotty some extra strength, and watched sitting on a rail as he munched away happily. She worked him over with a currying brush, teasel and comb, checked his feet, and mucked out his stall herself.

Her shoulders, back and stomach ached, but she made herself do it, forking the dirty straw into a wheelbarrow, hosing down the stall, raking sand over it, then raking out dry fresh clean straw down. The smell of horse dung and sweat made her feel good. It felt earthy and clean somehow to her.

She saddled, bridled him with her favourite well worn out gear that smelled of many oilings and of Zephyr and the meadows around the estate, and she made sure she cinched it well--Zephyr was clever and liked to suck the belly in and then let it out at the last second, his dark ringed eye rolling back at her as if to test her.

The next thing was doing some practice riding, but she also got a groom to set up some cones to practice her turns. Nothing strenuous today, just easy cantering and turning, and she was astonished to find that she had done it well. Not merely decently, but as though her body and his had not forgotten a thing. For a brief time she felt like she had often in the past--like a centaur, like he and she were the same creature. she leaned down and inhaled the smell of his mane, and whispered, "Good boy...such a good boy, Zephyr..." And then as a reward she rode him out to a favourite meadow where he could graze on clover grass and she could sit under a tree just...not thinking.

She was aware of attendants vaguely shadowing her the whole time, but they kept their distance, and for a little while...she felt almost content.

[New Edom]

Padan-Aran

A curious hush lay over the Royal Estate. The Cavalry Guards' usual equestrian and parade exercises were canceled, in fact they were all being called (except those on sentry or emergency watch duty) to full parade formation--in rural battledress kit no less.

Lieutenant Count Domris was astonished. Apart from during target practice and occasional field exercises, he couldn''t remember the last time he had had to carry an assault rifle, he didn't even remember the serial number, but he received it, and watched as his platoon sergeant got his unit to fall in and pretended to inspect them. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for; for the past several months he had largely been looking to make sure people didn't return rain wet swords to their scabbards (it caused rust in the scabbard) or walked their mounts properly. He had avoided reading the M20 Hamsher manual because it was boring and there were mechanics and drivers for that. And now what?

Mr. Zoar spoke sternly to the minimal palace staff. "You will continue to carry out your duties as devoted servants of the Monarch. The news of outside does not concern us save where we are instructed so. Our families are cared for and safely here in Padan. There is nothing to worry about. I want no gossip. Substitute prayer for gossip. Now, I wish to address the subject of the inappropriate table linen with last night's meal..."

Deliveries of food, potables, laundry and other services continued, incuding the bubble pack of Mara's new meds, which were inspected by Father Emmaeus and proscribed as instructed.

Mara allowed herself to be given them, and then got back onto her bed, turned to face the wall and closed her eyes, curling her knees up to her chest, hugging Precious to her.