The Darkest of Truths

Chapter 9

"Who in the hells are you?"

He then pulled down both my mask and hood, revealing my own tired and sweaty face. He seemed to study my face for a while before his expression softened slightly. I don't know what it was that he saw that made his demeanour change.

Maybe I was younger than he expected.

Maybe it was because I was a woman.

Maybe it was because I was going pale from the amount of blood I was likely losing inside of me, bridged by the dagger still sheathed in my abdomen.

I looked down at it, watched as a dark red stain began to slowly pool around it and laughed. It was a breathy, weak and pathetic laugh.

"Stabbed by my own blade," I laughed, wincing at the movement. "Wouldn't have been my first guess. Stabbed, yes but not by my dagger."

The King didn't seem to find the humour in the situation.

Instead he glanced behind me before gently pulling the Eternal's Kiss from my hair. Even after everything it was still perfect, not even a crease or a broken petal.

A truly resilient flower.

"You're of Eldwyn."

It wasn't a question, he said it with so much certainty. I wasn't sure how he had come to that conclusion with just a flower but he seemed confident.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told him as I struggled to push myself into a more comfortable seating position. Except every movement sent a spark of pain throughout my body.

I'm so tired.

He turned to his friend who looked as though he was in shock, "go and get Aleister."

He looked at his King with a surprised expression but nodded and left.

I watched him leave then redirected my attention to the King, actually taking the time to study his appearance.

He wasn't a bad looking man, if you ignored the beginnings of bruises, the bloody nose and broken lip. Evidence that I put up a good fight, a really good fight.

Would Father be proud? I'm not sure he'd be proud of me attempting to kill a King, especially one that had done me no wrong.

I'm sorry Papa...

"You have to admit, I almost had you there for a second."

I laughed and winced again and he ... comforted me.

He held my shoulder with one hand and my hand that was pressed over my wound with another.

"Try not to speak or move too much, you could cause further injuries."

I didn't know what to make of this action. Was it kindness or pity?

"Why do you care?"

"Because this shouldn't have happened and I'm sorry."

I looked at him confused.

"I tried to kill you and you're apologising? What is this? A new interrogation tactic that I haven't heard of yet?"

He shook his head, "I just want to help you.""I don't need your help."

"I would beg to differ."

I chuckled again and more pain came with it.

Cheeky bastard.

"Fair enough."

I dropped my head back against the wall and sighed.

This really hurts. I hope it stops soon.