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Chapter 87

The wind gusts, loose strands of my hair flying over my face, and I impulsively bring up the hand that isn't covering my wound to tuck them back behind my ear, wincing slightly because of the wounds made my Coal's claws earlier. Again, though, it's a small matter, and it doesn't hurt too bad.
Iron fingers catch my wrist, and I look sheepishly into Coal's face, the gorgeous blue eyes wide in horror as he examines the deep gashes in the flesh. I wince, though his prodding is gentle, a movement which doesn't escape him. Now that I can look at my own hand without fear of drawing attention, I see the puncture wounds pierce clear through the flesh, opening up in my palm. It's so numb now, though, I'm barely repulsed.
"When di-" He raises startled eyes to mine, and sees the answer. "Oh, no. Oh, God, no!" He closes his eyes and shakes his head, remembering, apparently vividly, and groaning slightly in revulsion of himself.
"It wasn't your fault." I add, trying to be helpful. If anything, it was mine. But of course I don't add that part. After all, we don't need him getting any ideas or anything, like I did something wrong.
"I don't care. I still did it. I hurt you." He looks forgivingly into my eyes, trying to muster up an apology that he won't find sufficient. "I'll never forgive myself."
We all know I hate mushy moments. Well, considering the large amount of them I seem to end up in, actually you might not know that. But now you do. So I must change the subject.
"Are you hungry?"
"Stop changing the subject." He snaps, but I can see he's not really angry, just sad.
"Fine. But you shouldn't be angry with yourself- I dumped the bottle of alcohol on your cuts, remember? So, really, you can think of it as getting even." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they were the wrong ones.
"Do you really think I would do that?" He leans forward, eyes wide and maybe even... scared?
"Yes." I lie, simply for the sake of hearing the answer. This better be good.
"Then I'll tell you," He leans forward further, so our noses are practically touching, and his eyes are staring directly into mine, tufts of his black hair mixing with strands of my brown. "I swear, Ash, that I would never, ever hurt you on purpose. Or by accident," He adds, eyeing the wounds in my hand.
"But you might wish you could." I smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"Sometimes." He admits with a sly grin, still not drawing away.
I can barely think, he's so close, much less come up with a snark comment. I can't imagine why he would possibly want to be so close to me- I haven't had a chance to bathe since Pine's, which was, what a week ago? And I'm disgusting and dirty and bloody and sweaty- And quite frankly, his scent ain't no picnic either.
"I won't kiss you till you bathe and brush your teeth." I say abruptly, on a thought. He looks slightly taken aback, then laughs, and backs off. "Whatever you say, my Princess."
It's meant as a joke, but for some reason the words hit me like a blow in the gut. He realizes a little too late how I took it, and goes to apologize, but Glass calls from up on the back of the Beast- Everyone is ready but us. How much time has passed?
I don't give Coal a chance to bring it up, sitting at the front of the pack, up near Sir Blarg's shoulders. He squeezes in behind me, hands gently resting around my waist, but I shrug them off, feeling uncomfortable.
Because I can't get the comment out of my head. If he and I are 'together', and he's a Royal Prince, then no matter if we rebels win or lose the final battle, no matter if we overthrow and burn the Order, I would still be a Princess- And perhaps, eventually, a Queen.
A Queen of the Order.