Not Your Princess

Chapter Twenty-Six

The sound of songbirds and wind chimes is much louder than usual. Every morning, they are a soft melody that happens just outside the palace walls. Typically, August will have to open the window in order to listen to them closely and appreciate their music. It appears that there is no need for August to open the window today, considering how close the sound is.

Slowly opening his eyes, August looks over at his wife. She always looks stunning in the morning. He loves how relaxed and calm she appears when she's asleep. As if nothing in this world can cause her harm.

The sunlight streaming in through the window strikes her features in a manner that makes her appear otherworldly. Her brown skin looks golden in the morning light. Her wavy hair is slowly spilling out of the messy bun she had thrown it in last night.

A small smile grows on August's face from the sight.

He draws in a deep breath, preparing to go back to sleep. Just as the prince begins to close his eyes, the sunlight reflects off of a foreign object. When he opens his eyes once more, he sees the blade of a knife right above his wife.

There is no time for him to call for help or to fend off the attacker. No time to awaken his wife or to flee. All that August has time to do is roll over top of her and make the knife sink into his own flesh rather than hers.

A fiery pain shoots through his body as the knife inserts through his back. His entire body begins to cry out from the pain of his action.

Below him, Asch is roused from her sleep. She looks both shocked and half-asleep while she looks at August. Soon, her eyes widen with what can only be described as pure terror. Despite the circumstances, Asch's hazel green eyes stun August. Or it could be the knife that is currently sticking out of his spine.

"August?" She murmurs quietly in confusion.

Behind him, August can hear the assailant stumble backwards. They draw the knife out of his back and drop it onto the floor. "Your Highness! I-I didn't mean to—" the man claims.

It's strange how quickly August's strength fails him. Within a matter of a few seconds, August collapses back onto his side of the bed.

"August!" Asch screams. She scrambles so that she is sitting. His wife cradles his head in her hands, ignoring the current danger she is in. "Somebody help!"

There are tears slipping down his cheeks of their own free will. In the background, there are sounds of their bedroom door busting open as well as the assassin being arrested. Asch calls out for a doctor, but August is starting to understand that a doctor is of no use to him at this point.

He's dying.

Hands brush against the sides of his face— through his hair. Asch's abnormal warmth brings August comfort. "It's okay, charming. You're going to be okay."

He reaches up to touch her cheek, finding the action to be far more straining than it should be. His thumb wipes away one of her tears. "I do not believe we're as fortunate this time, my love."

She shakes her head. "Don't say that—"

His hand slips down to her shoulder, cupping it so that he can hold on to her. "We were never supposed to meet," he claims. "We were to never have been married or— to have fallen in love—" The words are starting to become difficult to get out. He has so many words he wants to say to her, but he doesn't have the time or strength to say all of them.

"Shhh, August, please save your strength," she begs.

It is pointless for a dying man to hold back his words in hopes that one less word will save his life. Whether August tells Asch that he loves her does not matter since he is going to die regardless. The only difference is that when he does die, both he and Asch will have the knowledge that he loved her.