Chapter Seven
Iwoke to darkness.
My surroundings were foreign as I fumbled through the blankets that trapped my body to the mattress, my heart pounding as my gaze snapped to the door.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The knocks weren’t loud, but insistent, almost frantic in their repetition.
The palace. I was on palace grounds. My heart stopped entirely, frozen in fear.
Had they discovered what I was already? Scrambling from the bed, I felt for the oil lantern I knew was placed on my desk to the left, my hand shaking as I struck the match.
Careful to keep the flame from the two fingers I held it precariously by, I lit the wick.
I turned, lantern in hand, only to find Rena’s bed empty. The covers rumpled and strewn as if she had woken in a hurry.
Thumpthumpthump.
The knocks came quicker, angrier.
My hands fumbled for the dagger beneath my pillow before I faced my impending doom.
One. I let out a breath, steps hesitant.
Two. Another as I reached for the handle.
Three. If the Moon Goddess still listened to the prayers of her people, I prayed that Bran and Merle not be caught in my web of lies.
Four. I opened the door.
Roan Delmar stood on the opposite side, illuminated by the yellow light of the lamp. His gaze was furious, but it was the blood that streaked his face that caught my attention. Opening the door wider, I stepped back, taking in the scene before me.
Prince Kairen clung to the Kinslayer, one hand held to his side where blood oozed between his fingers, his brown skin sallow and sickly. Grunting under the weight of the prince, he practically shoved me as he pushed past.
“Where’s Rena?” His voice was ice, his jaw clenched as he carefully laid Kairen upon the floor of our dormitory, snatching a lavender pillow from her bed to lay beneath his head.
“I—” my words caught, too focused on the wound that continued to ooze blood.
He stepped closer, hands clenching at his sides, “Where is Rena?”
My instincts reacted before my mind when he came too close, the blade in my hand flying up before I could think of the consequences that would surely follow. It pressed just beneath his chin, tipping his head back so his eyes were upon the ceiling.
He let out a low growl, his jaw tight as his hand snatched my wrist faster than I could comprehend.
Yet he didn’t take the blade from my grasp, didn’t bat it away. Instead he slid it slowly down his throat until it pointed to the hollow of where his neck connected to his chest. Leaning closer, a blazing anger still lingered as he stared back at me.
“If you’re going to hold a blade to my throat again, at least give me the pleasure of meeting your eyes,” he grimaced as he inched closer, digging the blade deeper. “I don’t have time to parry over sharp blades and even sharper words. Where the fuck is Rena?”
With a ragged inhale I stepped back, my head shaking as the blade dropped to my side. “I don’t know, I only just woke and found her gone. What happened to him?” My attention snapped back to the prince laid upon the floor. “He should be with the Master Healers, why is he here?”
He let out a curse, tension winding his body so tightly I thought his skin might crack and crumble beneath the pressure. “Master Healers aren’t an option, he’ll only see Rena for this.”
Chewing my lip, my decision was made in only a split second. I was on my knees beside the barely conscious man in the next, bringing the blade up.
“What’re you doing?”
There was panic in the Kinslayer’s voice and I batted away the large hands that grabbed at me, that attempted to keep the blade away. My voice stern, “Either let me work or watch him bleed out on this damn floor, Delmar.”
My blade sliced through the fine fabric of Prince Kairen’s shirt, revealing the golden tattoos that swirled on every inch of skin beneath.
“Bring the lantern closer,” I commanded, my inhale sharp when his wound became clearer.
Deep and jagged, it cleaved the skin and muscle in two.
I couldn’t heal it, but I could at least slow the bleeding until Rena arrived.
“He was stabbed?” My throat strained with panic, an octave higher than usual. “Bring me that satchel and fill that bowl with water, okay?”
Why do you panic?
The shadows curved through my mind, their hissing soft and curious.
Is this not what you have practiced for, little shadow?
So many years you have spent at the bedside of those who await death; he is not any different.
A Solerian Prince is who bleeds upon your floor, perhaps you should let him slip away.
A dead Soliel is the only good Soliel.
I ignored them.
As soon as my potions bag was beside me, I unlatched it with practiced, precise fingers. No longer were they shaking, my mind and body a tool honed for this. I knew potions, I knew how to care for the ill.
I could do this.
Prince Kairen groaned as I grabbed the first potion, a vial of clear liquid. Uncorking it, I tilted his chin back gently with a finger and said, “The taste won’t be pleasant, but it’ll help to clot the wound and replenish the blood you’ve lost.”
His throat bobbed as I pressed it to his lips and poured. He coughed, face twisting with pain as he gagged when the vile taste hit his tongue.
Grabbing the next potion I promised, “This one will be much better. We call it the Elixir of Euphoria. It’ll ease your pain as I clean your wound and make it bearable until Rena returns to heal it. Though, it’ll also make you higher than Soli’s Kingdom in the sky.”
I flicked the vial gently, eyeing the shimmering golden liquid within before I brought it to his lips. He took it with ease compared to the last, a quiet groan releasing as the elixir took effect.
Slowly his breathing grew less ragged, the creases of pain easing as his eyes opened and golden irises stared back at me, unfocused and hazy. His hand reached up, fingers catching in the inky tresses that fell over my shoulders.
Eyes narrowing, his words slurring, he whispered, “They dance like a shadow.”
A throat cleared and I pulled away, a rough exhale rushing out.
My eyes darted to the Kinslayer who sat upon Rena’s bed, arms crossed as he glowered upon us.
Not a word was said as I quickly began searching through my bag once more, pulling out strips of clean cloth.
Dipping them into the water, I set to cleaning gently around the edges of the wound, the potion working quickly to clot it.
After a few minutes, I sat back, chewing my lip. “I think that’s the best I can do for now. I won’t be able to tell how much internal damage he has though, only Rena will be able to heal that. Are you sure we shouldn't take him to—”
“No Master Healers.”
My lips pinched shut. With a sigh I took the bowl to the little sink we had within our room and poured it, cleaning it and filling it with new water.
Grabbing fresh strips of linen, I approached Roan Delmar cautiously, as I would a wild animal. His eyes watched me carefully, as if any sudden move I made would cause his retreat.
“Your turn,” it was more a demand than a question as I set the bowl upon Rena’s desk, dipping the cloth.
“I’m not injured.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped closer, lips pursing as I ran the cloth against his cheek with focused precision.
“You’re covered in blood. Injury or not, it’s unsanitary.
” He let out a snort at that, but fell quiet as I worked.
The cloth moved across his jaw next, the blood disappearing beneath my careful ministrations–down his throat that swallowed as it dragged lightly over his pulse point.
I turned to his hands next, gentle as I wiped the blood from them.
Scars littered the rough skin beneath the golden tattoos, little ones that seemingly had no rhyme or reason, and as I flipped his hands to clean his palms, rough callouses scraped against the cloth.
Now washed of blood, my eyes narrowed upon the cuts on his knuckles, the skin torn and bruised and I tsked quietly.
“Not injured, huh?”
I moved back to my potions bag, grabbing an ointment that I kept on hand at all times.
“Hardly worth mentioning. I’ve had worse.”
I used a fresh cloth to dab the tincture over his injuries, and a hiss of relief fell from his lips. I knew the feeling, the instant cooling relief washing away the stinging pain, like rain dousing a sizzling fire.
“Better?” I asked, my eyes drifting up to catch his already upon me. Clearing his throat, he glanced away, flexing his hand before nodding.
“Thank you.”
Lips curving, I turned and made my retreat to the sink to wash my own hands. “A thank you from the notorious Roan Delmar? Should I write back home about such a momentous event?”
A quiet laugh surprised me, the sound rich and deep as I peeked over my shoulder. When our eyes met, he quieted, as if realizing he’d been caught in some strange act. His focus drifted back to Prince Kairen. “He’ll be alright?”
I shrugged, hesitantly moving to sit upon my own bed. “He seems stable enough, but I can’t know for sure without a Healer checking the injury, which you seem very adamantly against. What happened?”
“He was stabbed.”
“Clearly, dummy. I mean why was he stabbed?”
He shrugged and laid back upon Rena’s rumpled blankets. “We were patrolling, got separated, and he ran into a bad crowd. It happened quickly.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
Scoffing, I crawled beneath the covers of my own bed. “If you’d been just patrolling and he was injured, you’d have taken him to the Master Healers within the palace. You two were doing something you don’t want anyone else to know of, which is why you sought out Rena.”
He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand.
“Don't tell me if you don’t wish to, Delmar. Curiosity already bit me the last time with you two, so keep your precious secrets. I’m going back to sleep, my first trial is in the morning.
Wake me if his condition worsens and Rena isn’t back.
I won’t be charged with treason for a dead Prince upon my dormitory floor. ”