Emilie of the Royal Heart

Chapter 53: The Prince, Wounded, Wounds Worse

 Emilie woke in the last few moments of pure night. No matter how she shifted or cuddled into Elias' bed, she couldn't convince herself back to sleep again. Not only the restlessness, but she began to worry about what the castle staff might think of her darting through the hallways in her robe with a ripped nightgown in her hand. She took one last look at Elias, sleeping in nearly the same posture she found him at the start of the night, before she got up, wrapped her robe around her naked body, and strode over to the desk.

It felt like a millennium, but it only took her a minute or two to pen a note for him. She told him that she might never be able to forget last night, for better or for worse and that she was sorry she couldn't give him the answer he waited for until the bind she was tangled in untwisted itself. She said she would meet him on the dancefloor at the Unification Ball tonight. Lastly, she tried to explain why she needed to leave without a trace. She scribbled out two separate paragraphs with that aim because she couldn't bear to be frank on that account. Crafting a couplet about appearances and gossip, she ended the letter with her signature and left the note on her pillow before leaving.

Then she bolted to Aurora's bedroom. And then she froze halfway down the hall in horror and sprinted through the empty corridors to her room. Once inside, she threw off her robe and hastily clothed herself in one of the Zuhian-style dresses that she could get on by herself. Then she stormed into the hallway once more, searching with frightened eyes for his door.

Emilie had never been to his bedroom before. She knew where it was because she had walked with him to it on occasion, but she hadn't yet been inside.

When she found it, she practically tried to run right through it. She skidded to a stop, sliding three feet to the right of the door. Emilie took a cool breath as she stepped back in front of it. Her hand flew to the door handle and then she clenched her fingers into fists. Should she knock? Aurora always knocked on her door, didn't he? But then again, she had never been kicked and thrown in a well when he came to see her. Though she did have a fever once. If he knocked then, she wouldn't have known.

Her mind went attacking itself for overthinking at a time like this. Her hand jerked through the air, but she rapped her knuckles on the wood loudly enough that if he was awake, he could hear. There was no response. Emilie's blood was full of firecrackers and the sparks were twitching throughout her body. She knocked again. Nothing.

What if he was in terrible shape? What if he was in a coma? What if the stress of the Keepers' punishment caused his whatever-it-was-called, aneurysm, condition to overcome him?

Out of her mind a little, she tried the handle and threw the door open without the slightest bit of caution. Part of her was surprised the door was unlocked, but then she figured the nurses needed to come in and out and then her brain completely disregarded her fixation on the lock because dawn was breaking through the windows and Aurora was lying on his back with a grimace on his face. Emilie choked out something unintelligible that hadn't even been words in her mind before they sputtered out her mouth. She lurched for Aurora, but then yanked back to close the door, then she slingshot herself across the room. She dove to Aurora's bedside.

"A-are you-" she squeaked in a pant, lifting her right hand up from where she knelt on the ground to hover over his chest. Honestly, she couldn't tell if he was awake or not, but she was too shaken to stay calm.

He was propped up slightly by three fluffy pillows, his right arm bent into an 'L' shape as he rested his hand on his stomach. Even considering the stiff way Aurora carried himself, Emilie knew that he was holding it that way for the shoulder injury. The light helped her investigate his face. She stretched over over him, trying not to touch him and cause any unnecessary pain. It took some time with the sun still breaking, but the harder that Emilie looked, she noticed a walnut sized bruise over his nose and one on his cheek that matched colors. The bruise on his cheek met right at his dimple and something about that speared Emilie through the heart.