Little King

Ashe

Azi is gone. I sigh, leaning back in my chair, placing my feet on the desk. She insisted on facing the prince alone. I was mesmerized by the idea of talking to our future king, but she refused, like I assumed. Azi isn't much, but she's all I have. I don't remember much, but I'm sure of three things. I lost my left eye and scarred my leg in that fire. Wynter died saving me. It's all my fault.  I use the back of my palm to wipe my cheeks. Azi doesn't like it when I cry. She's become a mother figure for me, and after ten years she's stuck by my side. 

The Healer's wing isn't very special. Several cots for the sick, a desk for papers and notes, a window for fresh air, and a balcony for breaks. There's one other healer, Kopa, but she's out collecting some kind of herb. Only one of the cots is filled, a guard named Mikah who broke his arm while climbing a tree. He watches me as I stare out the window. I can feel his gaze, and it makes me squirm a little, but I ignore it.  His voice shatters the silence I relish. 

"What's wrong with your leg?" He asks. I turn, raising an eyebrow. 

"That's a pretty bold thing to ask." He shrugs, then winces. 

"I'm not doing anything else." I sigh, standing up and limping over to the cot beside his. I sit, pulling up the bottom of my pant leg. The flesh underneath is a deep color, and he can't even see the worst of it. 

"Recognize the marks?" I ask him. He stares at me curiously. 

"How'd a healer get burn marks like these?" He murmurs. 

"I wasn't a healer then. Kitchen staff." I tell him, standing back up and limping to my chair. He stays quiet but I can once again feel him staring at me. I'm bored, so I begin to braid my hair. It's sort of a strawberry blonde color, and It falls to my waist. After burning off a lot of hair in that fire, I've decided to grow my hair long. The door to the healer wing creaks open, and I turn, expecting Azi but meeting eyes with Kopa. 

"She's still not back?" Kopa asks, giving Mikah a polite nod and setting her basket of herbs on a shelf. She always looks like royalty, just like Azi. Kopa has short black hair, tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. She prefers tunics and trousers, like me, but hers looks way better than mine. She has tall black boots and a flower tucked behind her ear. Her eyes are a soft hazel color, and she wears a satchel that seems to complete her everything perfectly. 

"No, I hope there isn't any trouble." I murmur. Kopa smiles. 

"Azi's braver than us both, she'll be fine." She turns to Mikah. "How's your arm? any pain or swelling?" He shakes his head. "Can you move it?" Kopa asks. Mikah lifts his arm with a wince, and Kopa looks it over. "We could use something for the pain. Ashe do we have any-" I've already put the Zephlls  in her hand. They're a pale pink flower and the petals are good for numbing pain. Kopa holds a few out for him, and Mikah looks at them quizzically. 

"Eat it." I tell him. He complies, chewing the petals with a grimace. 

"Ashe, can you go get more?" Kopa says, not looking up from Mikah. I nod, grabbing a woven basket and pushing open the door, glad to be out of the room for a while. The hallways are dimly lit and the carpet is a bright, cheerful red. The basket thumps against my right side and my braid thumps against my left, on beat with my limp.  I'm turning a left corner when I slam into somebody, my leg giving out. I tumble backwards, crying out as my leg slams into the once welcoming carpet. The burn marks sting and a sharp pain runs up my side. 

"Are you okay?" I'm staring up at Prince Maxe, and I nod numbly. He's doing the same thing most people do when they see me, staring at my eye. 

"I'm fine." I tell him, standing up and stumbling. He catches me, concern glittering in his eyes. "I'm fine." I say again. I slip out of his grasp and continue down the hallway. I can hear him following me. "Can I help you?" I ask, turning to face him. He nearly runs into me again. 

"I just wanted to know why I haven't seen you before." I try to decide how to answer. I'm ashamed I killed my best friend? I am trapped in an endless cycle of healing and sickness? I want nothing more than to leave this palace forever? 

"I'm a healer." I mutter. Realization floods his face. 

"What's your name?" He asks, following me. "Ashelyn. Ashelyn Morrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do." I motion to the courtyard, giving him a small curtsy and slipping out the door.