CHAPTER 13 - Someone I Loved
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I rode at the front, my silver mare showing no hint of fatigue.
"I've already told you to ignore such requests," I replied Bastian.
Riding beside me, the captain of my Briarbound Knights sighed much like his cousin would.
"This one is causing quite a disruption," he said, the hardened lines in his face deepening in irritation. "She claims that one of the other ladies will die if we don't stop for a doctor."
I rolled my eyes.
My gaze shifted to the darkened woods lining our path, tinged with the late afternoon sun. Rather than fretting over the endless grievances of my brides, it was far better to remain vigilant for ambushes.
Briarvex, slung across my back, was both a comfort and a burden on this matter.
Already, its whispers rooted through my mind, warning me of unrest across my dominion.
"This is the fifth concubine to fabricate an emergency," I replied. "We've already halted thrice today. At this rate, we'll reach Flynmoore by winter. Instruct the knights to ignore any further interruptions, even from the Nightshades."
Bastian inclined his head, his long black hair brushing past his shoulder.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I've already advised the knight to ignore the Clover woman."
I paused.
"A Clover?" I asked. "Which woman?"
"I didn't inquire, Your Majesty."
My eyes narrowed.
Petty schemes during this travel have been common enough. Even women ranked as high as Rose feigned sickness to catch my notice. Clover would be no different.
And yet...
I immediately thought back to how pale Princess Raine had been on the morning of our departure.
Could it be her?
However, four days had already passed... Surely, she would've called for me if she had been unwell all this time?
I laughed at myself.
No... That woman would rather wither than call for me.
"Stop the procession," I ordered, turning my mount sharply.
Bastian's black eyes widened.
"Your Majesty?" he asked, uncertain.
"Must I repeat myself, Captain?"
My tone cut sharper than Briarvex. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, the thorned vine adorning his neck scraping against his skin.
"At once, Your Majesty!" Bastian responded with a sharp crack of his reins as he rode off to halt the procession.
I dug my heels into Wraith's sides, urging her forward with a forceful twist of my reins. The unicorn responded immediately, her powerful strides eating up the distance as I cut through the line.
A smile tugged at my lips, kindled by the thought of the princess' fevered state.
Would she spit her disdain at me, even now?
There hadn't been a day she looked at me kindly.
My smile widened into a grin.
Servants and guards stumbled in surprise as I passed, their eyes wide as saucers. The concubines, lounging in their carriages, poked their heads out with rounded eyes, their whispers fluttering close behind.
As I reached the tail end of the caravan, I saw it — the disturbance that had drawn the soldiers' attention.
Clover concubine Virella Gildmere had thrown open the carriage door even as it rode forward, leveling an accusatory finger at a guard. The coachman, seeing me approach, snapped the reins to a jittery halt.
At the sight of me, the blonde woman's eyes widened, and she scrambled from the carriage, dipping into a hastened curtsy.
"Your Majesty," she said breathlessly, "I beg of you... Princess Raine needs a doctor."
I suppressed a laugh at all the dramatics.
"What ails her?" I asked, dismounting and stepping into the carriage.
Lady Virella rose, her voice tight.
"She's running a high fever, and her monthly cycle has left her weakened. Her pulse grows fainter with each day."
Inside the carriage, the other Clover concubines sat wide-eyed as I stepped in, their hands clasped anxiously. Princess Raine lay sprawled across another's lap, her face ashen and her dark hair limp against her pallid skin. She barely seemed to breathe.
Is she even alive?
My initial amusement quickly withered into something much colder.
Without a second thought, I scooped her into my arms. She barely weighed more than Briarvex, her frame frail and icy.
An unexpected anger flared within me.
Briarvex pulsed at my reaction, but without any heads that could take responsibility, I suppressed the sword's call.
"Summon a physician to my carriage!" I barked at the guards, striding out with the frail woman in my arms.
"At once, Your Majesty!" a guard called, already riding off to fetch help.
I hoisted myself up effortlessly upon Wraith, holding the princess securely against my chest. Her body stirred faintly in her fevered state, and I tightened my grip.
"What have you done to yourself, Princess?" I whispered.
I urged my silver mare forward with a sharp kick, her powerful strides carving a path through the ranks. Whispers of shock and surprise quickly followed in our wake.
At the head of the caravan, I dismounted swiftly and handed off the reins, slipping inside the large silver carriage.
Inside was a small, lavish space, fitted with minimal furniture which included a single plush bed. I laid the princess down, as though any sudden movement could wring her last breath from her chest.
"My Love, what is all this commotion I hear?"
I turned, expecting a physician, but found Lady Isolde instead. Draped in midnight-black silks, her red hair gleamed in the dim light.
Suppressing my irritation, I answered her plainly.
"The princess is fevered and stricken with womanly pains."
A delicate gasp escaped her lips.
"How dreadful," she murmured. "Allow me to call for my doctor immediately."
"I have already summoned my physician," I replied.
"Nonsense. Yours is prepared for battle wounds, not this. Let me send for mine," she insisted, her persistence a welcome relief in this instance.
"So be it."
Her doctor arrived and quickly tended to Princess Raine, allowing me a moment's reprieve. Leaving the carriage, I sought the shadows of the forest edge, breathing deeply to quell the anger that simmered.
Would she truly rather die than call on me?
Why?
What had I ever done to her?
"Your Majesty, I've ordered the guards to make camp for the night," Bastian reported as he approached, dismounting his horse. The decision was well-timed, the sky already tinted with dusk.
He hesitated, then spoke again, "I bear news from Dornhold, as well... The vylnir has escaped."
"What?"
My hands balled into fists, an old wound at my shoulder aching at a memory.
Bastian's expression grew somber.
"The guard found its prison empty during its feeding day. It could be anywhere by now."
I narrowed my gaze at the darkening woods.
"Alert the men. That creature might seek me out."
My mind reared back to the princess' frail condition. In her current state, she wouldn't stand a chance if the vylnir attacked.
And who knew what form it would take...
Bastian left to relay my orders as I strode deeper into the mossy forest. The sword at my back felt heavier with every step. Though I avoided its power when possible, this situation demanded me to act.
Grasping the blade by its thorned hilt, I breathed in deeply, then plunged it into the earth beneath me.
Magic surged from the blade, dark and potent.
Unseen roots quickly spread through the soil, reaching outward.
I felt the land around us come alive, each bramble and thorn submitting to my command.
Vines twisted out of the soil, encircling the long procession in a thorned barrier too far out for those making camp to notice.
At last, I exhaled, sinking to one knee.
The sword's insistent whispers rooted through my mind, deep and chilling.
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The cursed sword's will tangled in my mind, but I forced it down, buried it.
"It is I who wield you, Briarvex" I whispered. "Not the other way..."
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Morning broke through the camp, and as others readied themselves for departure, I stayed at the princess' side, keeping her fevered body warm with my own through the long night.
A sharp knock on the carriage door drew a reluctant sigh from me.
I threw a black tunic over myself and opened the door to find Lady Isolde waiting, her green eyes wide and fretful. She angled her head to catch a glimpse inside, then pressed her dark red lips into a thin line.
"My Love, I wish to caution you," she murmured.
"What matter is so pressing that it brings you to me again?" I asked, leaning against the doorway, uninclined to let her.
If she started talking about the bloodlust she could smell, I might chase her away today.
"I spoke with my doctor regarding the princess' condition," she said, her voice low. "He mentioned that it's really not that serious — she only requires simple teas and herbs. I would never doubt the princess' intentions... but it's strange she would appear so weakened out of nowhere..."
Her words hung between us, thick with implications. I remained still, considering them.
"Have I been deceived?" I asked.
Her chest swelled at the words.
"Deceiving you would be unthinkable..."
"If you are correct," I replied, "then a grave offense has been committed."
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide.
"My Love, I didn't intend to stir trouble for the princess... I only wanted—"
"There is no trouble," I cut in, unsheathing Briarvex. "Summon your doctor."
Her face paled.
"My Love..."
"Do you expect your sovereign to speak twice, Lady Isolde?" I demanded.
Trembling, she bowed and retreated. Moments later, she returned with her personal guards escorting the doctor. They stopped before me at my carriage. The man's aged eyes darted nervously between Lady Isolde and myself, his face paling at the sight of Briarvex in my hand.
"Your Majesty... Is there a problem?" he stammered.
"I understand from Lady Isolde that you prescribed the princess simple herbs, deeming her illness trivial."
He swallowed, glancing briefly at Lady Isolde before bowing as low as the dirt would allow.
"Y-yes, your Majesty."
My grip tightened around Briarvex.
"I stayed with her all night, and though I lack your training, even I could see her life slipping away. More than once, her pulse faltered to a whisper. Yet you claim it was mild? Do the lives of my brides mean so little to you?"
The doctor shook, his eyes flitting to Lady Isolde in silent desperation.
"Your Majesty, I only did as—"
"What a vile man you are!" Lady Isolde interrupted, eyes narrowed. "How dare you deceive the emperor!? Guard, rid him of his head at once!"
Before I could object, her guard obliged, his blade severing the man's head in one swift motion. It rolled toward my feet, eyes frozen wide in disbelief, the soil darkening with his blood.
I sneered down at the corpse.
"Mount his head at the front of the procession and feed his body to the hunting hounds," I instructed a guard before turning to my concubine. "Lady Isolde, make sure to employ a doctor more worthy of trust. In the meantime, I'll need my physician to prepare proper remedies."
"Of course," she replied, curtsying low.
I returned to the carriage where Princess Raine lay, her brow furrowed even in sleep. Carefully, I lifted her onto my lap, pressing a cool cloth to her fevered skin. The dampness clung to her, her breath shallow, her green gown slipping further down, exposing the fragile curve of her shoulders.
Then I saw it.
A jagged scar, pale against her fever-flushed skin, just above her heart.
My fingers twitched.
What is this?
Before I could trace the wound, the carriage door creaked open, and my physician stepped inside. His expression darkened as he assessed her condition.
"She has lost blood... Likely in quantity. It is difficult to believe this is merely from a woman's cycle..." He hesitated, then added gravely, "She will need broth to strengthen her, and I will prepare medicines to keep the fever from taking hold."
"See to it." My voice was steady, but my mind churned.
Shortly after, maids arrived with a fresh nightdress and the necessary cloth belts. I left them to their work and stepped outside, tending to my steed. Yet, even as I ran my hands over Wraith's reins, my thoughts remained tangled around the sight of that scar.
When I returned, the carriage was filled with the faint scent of herbs and damp linen. The princess lay still, her color no better, her new nightdress a muted gray that clung to her delicately.
Slowly, I reached out, tugging the fabric aside just enough to glimpse the wound once more.
A scar like that... as it possible?
Even seasoned warriors didn't boast such deep scars — above their hearts no less.
My hands curled into fists.
This wound should have killed her. How was she alive?
A soft whimper broke through the silence.
"Please..." Princess Raine murmured, her voice barely more than a breath, thick with desperation. "You must believe me..."
She shifted restlessly, her lashes damp, a tear slipping down her cheek. I had never seen her like this. The woman whose tongue could cut deeper than a dagger now lay trembling, defenseless against whatever horrors haunted her dreams.
"Your Majesty..." she whispered brokenly. "May I at least ask that my body be burned...?"
The words chilled me to my core.
I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I pulled her closer, cradling her against me.
"You're not dying, Princess."
For four days, I stayed by her side, watching over her as the fever took its course. On the fifth, she finally regained color, though her nights remained haunted by a nightmare I longed to banish for her.
While reading through reports at the small desk in the carriage, I heard her stir, and set my work aside. She opened her eyes slowly, as though emerging from a long, dark tunnel, and I cradled her gently.
"Why are you in such a state, Princess?" I asked. "You should've called for a doctor sooner."
Her eyes, grey as the storm clouds from her homeland, blinked up at me as if I were a stranger. She searched my face before her expression hardened, and she pushed herself up, retreating to the far side of the bed.
"What... why am I here?" she asked, her gaze flitting around the carriage.
I couldn't help but smile at the spark of life in her eyes.
She scowled, and I laughed.
"So, you truly do have a death wish, Princess?" I teased.
She clutched the fur blanket close, looking affronted. Then her gaze lowered, and she noticed her attire, her expression darkening in horror.
"Why am I dressed in this?"
"You were unconscious for five days. Your gown needed changing. Often."
Her cheeks flushed a rich crimson.
"Did... did the maids dress me?"
"Would you be disappointed if I said yes?"
Her gaze shot to me, half bewildered, half appalled. Ignoring her distress, I poured her a glass of water and held it out. She took it reluctantly, gulping it down in silence.
"Rather than fret about the maids," I pressed, "won't you tell me why you chose to suffer like this?"
Her gaze flickered in that way that stirred something in me, daring me to push her, to play this game of barbed words.
"It seemed more appealing than the alternative," she scoffed, setting the glass aside.
My jaw tightened.
"You could have died, Princess. Regardless of your feelings toward me, do you not value your life? Or have you come to enjoy the thought of death?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps death would make for better company."
Before I could stop myself, my hand moved of its own accord, pushing her down to the bed.
Her eyes went wide, surprise breaking through her defiant mask.
Gently, I tugged down the neckline of her gown just enough to reveal the jagged scar that peeked out.
She squirmed, trying to push me away, but failed.
"Tell me, what is this scar?" I asked.
She continued to resist me.
"What scar?"
"This," I said firmly, not letting her escape. "On your chest. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or did you imagine me bashful enough to look away as you were dressed? I could strip you again, if it would help you get reacquainted with your own body."
The color drained from her face, her bravado cracking.
"You... you can see it?" she asked.
I scoffed, my tone turning cold.
"It's rather difficult to miss, Princess."
She bit her lip nervously before looking away, staring at the wall.
"It's from a long time ago..." she murmured.
"Who?" I asked, a dark need gnawing at me. When she still refused to meet my eyes, I tilted her chin toward me. "Who dared to wound you like this?"
Her eyes brimmed with the promise of tears, and a faint tremor brushed her bottom lip.
"Someone I loved..." she whispered.
The thought of her keeping another in her heart had an unexpected effect on me. Already, Briarvex pulsed in the corner. But beyond that, my hands itched with an urge to avenge her.
"Did you make them pay?" I asked.
She swallowed, her face hardening.
"I will..."
The way her eyes lit with raw determination pulled a smile from me. I wanted to take her pain from her, but seeing the fire kindled within her, I knew she had the strength to do it herself. And perhaps that was exactly what she needed.
My eyes drifted to her lips, still damp from the water she drank. I pushed the thought away and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her brow.
"Good," I said, rising to pour another glass of water. "I'd like to see you get your vengeance, Princess."
She stayed coiled in the corner of my bed, eyes narrowed.
"I'll give you a front-row seat, Your Majesty."
"I look forward to it," I smiled.
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