Not Your Princess

Chapter Twelve

August can feel the earth moving around him. It's a lot less smooth than he had expected— a lot bumpier and less of a spinning sensation. It almost feels like he is lying down in a carriage, being jostled about by dirt roads with sharp stones and large branches.

His head pounds angrily, having taken far too many blows in the last few days. It's a surprise he's able to be awake at all, considering how hard he hit it last time. The traitor did not hold back on the prince, truly wanting him dead.

At that point, Elliot was dead. There was no longer anything to gain from August's death. Asch could never be married off to a lowly guard.

Asch. His eyes snap open, finding the walls of the carriage. He ignores the pain in his head to look around. Henrick lays on the bench across from him, completely unconscious.

There are no signs of Asch inside of the carriage. Not a trace of her tattered red dress or a single hint of her dark wavy hair. His wife isn't here.

Panic takes control of his lungs while he makes an effort to sit up. Every muscle in his body aches. His head feels like it has an entire house resting on top of it.

Somehow, the prince is able to get himself to turn toward the carriage driver. Slamming a fist against the spot besides the blocked window, August ignores all the pain searing through his body. He has to know that she's okay. He needs to know that she's alive.

"Stop," he cries. His voice is softer than he intends, barely carrying far enough to reach his own ears. He bangs against the wall harder, sure that he will break his hand if he continues on long enough. "Stop the carriage!"

After a minute or so, the carriage begins to slow. August can hear shouting coming from outside, but the voices are far too muffled. As soon as the carriage is stopped, the prince opens the carriage.

Sunlight beams into the interior, flooding it with additional light. Squinting against the sun's bright rays, August takes a few shaky steps outside.

A cobbled pathway is the first thing to meet his gaze. Its smoother surface was designed to make carriage travel faster and less bumpy. The next thing that August spots is a growing crowd only a few yards away from him. It gathers outside of a large stone mansion, which overlooks a small lake.

Somehow, he made it to the beach house.

Cries for a doctor fills his ears, the sound louder than the waves from the nearby beach. No one in the crowd has spotted him yet. Their focus is on something else entirely. Something that August cannot see due to the crowd's thickness.

When a pair flee from the crowd to grab a doctor, August finds the center of this crowd. A brief glimpse of Asch's sallow face comes into his view.

His head swims while he staggers toward her, unsure of her fate. "Asch!?" He calls out.

He barely makes it two steps before his legs buckle out from underneath him. Someone catches him before he fully faints, their panicked features being the last ones he sees before he falls unconscious.

*****

Asch and August have been bed bound for the past week and a half. The injuries that the couple sustained were enough to have the couples coming in and out of consciousness for at least two of those days.

The pair missed the funerals for all the guards as well as the discussion of redistributing Baron Elliot's lands. They had also missed the king's public statement of the attack, sparking rumors that one or both of them are dead.

Despite the fact that neither one of them have been able to leave their bed, Asch feels glad to have this time with August. She's thankful that she will continue to wake up every morning by his side for the rest of their lives.