Chapter six
Iwas abruptly awoken by multiple warriors stumbling as they helped the emperor into his tent.
It was the darkest part of the night, and blood leaked from his chest and stomach.
I felt my insides turn when I saw the wound that cut deep into his flesh.
I frowned. What was I doing here? I clawed my mind for my last memory, and, ah. Of course, I was tempted for a quick nap while the emperor was gone.
My breath hitched, and my heart raced, realizing that this could be my way out of this dreadful place if the emperor was gravely injured.
The other warriors were also wounded but not as severely as the emperor.
Aris drew in a sharp breath when they placed him on his bed, grimacing from the pain.
“Leave!”
he commanded.
The warriors obeyed and scurried to leave, not noticing I was crouched near the large chest.
Aris grabbed one of the linen cloths I had laid out and held it to his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
How long was I asleep? Nighttime was filled with danger, and I knew I couldn’t linger here.
But I also couldn’t risk walking back to my tent now… I heard the crackling of a large fire nearby and some of the warriors outside the tent cheering in victory.
Idiot.
I shook my head.
As I contemplated my dilemma, the thought of staying in the emperor’s tent seemed utterly imprudent.
He lay wounded on his bed.
A low groan escaped his lips, and his eyes now fluttered closed.
I should be heading back to Camilla’s tent. Where I would be safe—for the most part. I looked over at the emperor, oblivious to me watching him.
Flashbacks to the woman dying in the apothecary danced across my mind.
It was my fault.
She wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t been so clumsy, if I had a steadier hand when I gripped that bottle that might have saved her.
I took her life and—
Just this once, I would help him.
Life had given me another opportunity to save a life.
And I would help give his life back into his hands.
Not only did I feel obligated to make this heavy, suffocating guilt right within my heart, but he chose to protect me from Tobias.
Utterly unaware of my presence, I silently approached the sleeping emperor.
My heart crashed against my ribcage, knowing that my life depended on staying unnoticed.
I stared at the emperor—completely vulnerable.
My sister would kill him if she were in my position.
She wouldn’t even bat an eye.
But I was weak and pathetic, nothing like her. I grabbed a fresh cloth and plunged it into the water bowl next to his bed.
It was hard to tell if he was asleep or unconscious from the pain and blood loss.
This is dangerous, Solei, I thought to myself.
I carefully lifted his arms away from his wound and placed them by his side.
With gentle and hesitant hands, I cleaned his wound and rinsed the excess blood away.
The wound was undeniably deep.
He definitely needed stitches.
Moving swiftly, I searched the tent for any slender objects that would work as a needle.
My hands settled on the thinnest bones I could find scattered on the floor.
Remembering Helon’s sputtering mouth all over the chicken bones, I cleaned them thoroughly.
I ground the bones together until they formed a point that was thin enough to penetrate through skin. I carved a small hole at the other end. After preparing my makeshift needle, I tore a loose thread from my dress.
Droplets of sweat formed at the back of my neck as I crept to the emperor’s bed.
I’d done this process many times before; I knew exactly what I was doing, but a tremor ran through me as I realized the position I was in.
He might wake up and find me harming him instead of healing him.
He might blame me if the infection grew worse and then kill me. I would be touching the emperor in his sleep without his permission—that alone was cause for punishment. So many things could go wrong.
I had to try; it was an oath I made when I became a healer.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake of letting someone die in my hands if I could help it.
I drew a breath as I pierced his skin and weaved the thread through.
His breath remained steady.
I continued.
Stitch by stitch.
The last thread went through effortlessly, and I completed the procedure with a rigid knot, ensuring any rough movements would keep the stitches intact.
I grabbed another clean linen, drenched it with fresh water, and performed a final cleaning.
I looked at Aris.
How innocent someone could appear when they were completely unconscious…yet when they were awake, they were responsible for death and misery.
Shaking the confusion from my head, my hand went into my pocket to find the medicinal herbs I had stashed earlier.
I placed some across his now-closed wound. The herbs soaked in and clung to his stitches.
Perfect.
I smiled proudly.
As I picked up the needle and thread, I heard the flaps of the tent open.
I whirled towards the entrance to find a healer, dressed in a long black tunic, and multiple warriors accompanying him.
Oh, no.
“You! Who is this intruder?”
shouted the healer, his voice filling the tent.
My scrambled thoughts left me speechless and wide-eyed as I stepped away from the emperor.
Frozen in shock, the needle slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.
The healer stalked toward me.
“Answer us immediately, child!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the emperor stirring from the commotion.
This is bad.
Think. Think!
One of the warriors rushed towards me.
I recognized him from before.
His eyes narrowed.
“You witch!”
the warrior shouted.
“She is the emperor’s pet.
Tobias left her here for Aris’ pleasure,”
the warrior explained to the healer.
He seized my arm as I attempted to pull away from his harsh hold.
“What has she done to you, My Lord?”
the healer muttered as he examined my procedure.
“Witchcraft,”
the healer hissed as he inhaled sharply.
Stitching was a relatively new procedure Fenrah had taught me.
It was not widely accepted yet and most likely would be frowned upon—especially by those from the Eastern Sea.
My employer warned me to choose wisely whom to heal with this new technique.
I was a fool.
The emperor finally lifted his heavy eyelids and rested his sleepy gaze upon the healer.
The healer bowed his head.
“My emperor.”
The emperor slowly sat up, grimacing from the pain.
He propped his elbows up on the pillows and analyzed the situation.
As he surveyed his closed wound, wrapped in herbs, the healer eagerly explained.
“I came as quickly as I heard you were wounded, Master.
But the witch found you first, planning for your death before we reached you.”
The emperor focused on the healer, listening and contemplating.
The healer continued.
“I’ve heard of procedures such as this in the West, and the infection spreads within.
It suffocates the healing.
We need to leave it open and cauterize the wound.
I have no doubt the witch secretly enclosed your wound, knowing you’d grow weak from infection.”
The emperor glanced at me, his eyes darker than I’d remembered.
I shifted, barely able to move from the warrior’s tight grip around me.
He held one arm around my waist and the other on my mouth—probably afraid I would try to cast a spell on them.
“My emperor, allow me to continue this procedure the correct way.
I will need to reopen and clean the wound out properly,”
the healer suggested.
He looked at the warrior who controlled me.
“You, take the witch and dispose of her immediately for putting him in danger.
Now, let me see this—”
“No—not tonight, Oleo.
Leave it.”
The warrior pulled me towards the entrance.
I fought and struggled against his grip.
I regretted not walking back to my tent earlier and leaving the emperor wounded in his bed.
“We can’t wait too long, My Emperor,”
Oleo warned Emperor Aris.
Their voices faded as the warrior’s tight grip pulled me towards dark-lit paths.
The crackling fires nearby and the cheering voices faded as I could only hear the beating of my pounding heart.
Everything seemed a blur before I was thrown into a cage, tall enough for a small being like me but wide enough to fit a few more.
The warrior slammed the door in my face, locked the cage, and left with a grunt.
My world stopped spinning as realization sunk in.
I frantically looked around me.
I’d heard of these infamous Strokan cages before.
War prisoners, criminals and captives were held in these barbaric cages.
Known for its cruel isolation, most people would lose themselves before slowly dying from the lack of food and clean water.
They’d become Insulatus.
No.
There was no way out.
I wrapped my fingers around the cage door, leaning my forehead on its cool bars.
I cursed myself for trying to help the emperor—my enemy! How could I?
Why I cared at all perplexed me.
Although many in my life had chosen to keep me at distance for different reasons, it was difficult for me to not care how others thought of me.
My mother would often regard me with such weariness and tell me I was too sensitive for the world we lived in.
She was convinced I was born at the wrong time and wouldn’t hesitate to let me know that, too. I knew that my mother would also have stabbed the emperor in the heart for what he had done to our village, and she would have died happily for her people. She was bold like that.
I slumped into mud in the corner of the cage.
I, on the other hand, was not convinced yet by aggression or hatred.
But maybe I should be.
Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
My mother would tell me it was because I was young, inexperienced, and had never been hurt by anyone or anything, but I thought being ignored and bullied my entire life was something that normal people would grow a thick skin for.
I took a long, shaky breath.
This was going to be a long night.