Bound by Blood

Ch. 2 - Bloody Washcloth

Heavy panting filled my once silent apartment as I barged into it, once again having just escaped a crowded marketplace before I killed anyone by accident. 

Thing is I'm not a violent person. I could've killed people for simply having gotten my nose broken by some dumbass who tried to steal from me. 

Today I decided to go out on my day off to restock on groceries I was running low on, and some raggedy thief underestimated like most people tend to, and decided to try and steal my coin purse out of my hands. I'd broken his wrist as soon as he reached out, but I didn't notice that his other fist was already swinging out and hit me right in the nose. On instinct I swung out and broke his arm, but that's when I felt the familiar feeling of hot liquid starting to fall in my nostrils. 

"Fuck." I cursed at myself for letting myself get hit, and ran off to my apartment to somewhere where I wouldn't let anyone come into contact with my blood and the curse I'd been born with. 

I'd started to feel the blood pooling in my hand as I clasped my nose tightly, feeling it pool into the back of my throat. I locked my jaw trying not to focus on the metallic taste of the blood flooding the back of my throat, or the feeling of pulsing pain coming from my nose and spreading across my face. 

As soon as I'd slammed the door closed behind me I ran straight to my kitchen and grabbed the nearest washcloth and pressed it to my nose, wincing slightly at the feeling on putting pressure on my broken nose. I threw my head back and sighed. After a while, my bleeding stopped and I flinched looking at the washcloth that I'd now have to burn. It was covered in grime and now poisonous blood that could be considered the biggest biohazard to have ever existed. 

I looked at my reflection in a bucket of water I'd left untouched from washing dishes earlier today. My eyes were already starting to bruise slightly, and my nose was ever so slightly crooked. I wanted to scrunch my nose, but quickly flinched when the pain laced through my skull once again. I sighed, muttering under my breath, "Fuck that bastard."

Some time passed, and as soon as my pain had subsided some, I found the courage to once again reposition my nose back into place, hoping not to leave it more crooked than before. Thing is I would've left it broken the way it was, but I realized that I'd have trouble breathing out of my right nostril, so I decided to relocate it. More blood rushed out and I had to make sure that none of it got onto the floor.

I cringed when I removed the washcloth from my face once more, looking at the sorry state it was in. Covered in grime from washing the dishes earlier today to now looking soaking wet in my blood. As I delt with my sorry state of a broken nose my thoughts drifted back onto the events of today.

I work as a guard to the royal family. I'd won this position four years ago after I'd won a reputation as a good street fighter. I'd fight for pennies and stale bread in back alleys for those who were willing to bet against me. I snorted slightly remembering my old fighting days. People would always underestimate me and to this day it's shown as per my experience in the market just an hour ago. No one would ever expect to be beaten to the ground by an 18 year old girl who was malnourished from living on the streets since age 14. 

I'd never truly learned formal fighting, I just realized that I was talented in that department one day after an older boy twice my size decided it was a good idea to steal half a loaf of bread I'd found behind a bakery. I never knew how or why I ended up as homeless, all I knew was that one day I'd woken up being carried on a boys back who was helping me get to the capital city of Gauclem, after I assume I'd fallen out of a tree or something and hit my head, I assume this because I have no memories beyond that point in my life. 

That boy did have a family, and he left me on the main road before returning back to whatever family he belonged to. He was what I'd describe as the wind. Quick, strong, but playful and comforting. I've never seen him since that day. 

I bring myself out of my daydream and look out my window and realized that somehow this little ordeal has now taken up half of my day off. I once again feel pain lace my face after unconsciously trying to scrunch my nose in displeasure. I need to fix that habit of mine. I look back into the basin of water and see that my nose is now somewhat centered in my face, but still swollen and bruised. I look horrendous, I cringe slightly at my appearance.

I decide not to linger on the fact that I look like something that crawled out of a garbage dump and go outside wrapping the washcloth with another one and shoving it into the pocket of my coat. I don't leave the house before stuffing my nostrils with cotton to ensure that no blood escapes and accidents happen. I walk all the way to the castle, not caring as the young women of nobility gasp when they catch a glance at my sorry state as I pass by them. 

I scowl slightly, not wanting to deal with nobles on my day off but I need access to the furnace in the dungeon. That's what I've come to rely on now, any time I need to dispose of my blood. I suddenly envy everyone else because they don't need to go to these extreme measures to dispose of their own blood. 

As I'm lamenting my current predicament I hear a very cheerful voice, one I'd grown very familiar and fond with. "Winter! Why are you here I thought you had the day off?" As I turned back to look at my best friend Kurisa, she cringed as she looked at the sorry state of my face, following with a barrage of questions, "Oh god, are you alright? Who was able to lay a hand on you like that? Was it an accident?" 

I hushed her before she could start another question, "It's alright, I just got into a scuffle with a random thief, I guess this is a sign I need to train more, instead of being dragged into your shenanigans." I roll my eyes at her, "You've roped me into every major ball and begged me to help you with your studies. I've hardly had any time for training in the past few months." 

She huffs and crossed her arms across her chest, "Don't blame me entirely, you were willing to comply. Also you've been taking on so many meaningless tasks for his highness. Like just the other day he had you go out and hunt guinea fowl with him for a week." She rolled her eyes as she spoke of the youngest prince, which warranted a smile from me. We both know she has the hots for the prince as do so many young ladies like her. 

I smiled at her, "Well that's my entire job," I poked her forehead, "teaching you isn't." 

She batted my hand away, "Well it should be, I don't learn with anyone else." We started walking down to the dungeon so we could reach the furnace and burn the washcloth. "You should get your face checked with the healers after this you know... it would be a shame if you lost that beauty of yours."

I rolled my eyes at her, ignoring her remark of calling me beautiful, "You know I will get it checked, but I will need your help with covering up the bruising on my face, I don't want the other guards thinking I'm weak because of this."

This time it was her who rolled her eyes, "I don't get that whole dick measuring cockiness they all think they have to prove. I know damn well half of them can't even get it up." I snorted but then flinched and groaned in pain. I love her sense of humor. She continued, "Regardless I just think they're insecure that a woman is the one to put them in their place." She tilted her head higher, "Regardless, I bet it stings more knowing it's someone who never received formal training like them. The people here all are horrible." 

Kurisa like me was born into the lower class, she is the child of two immigrants from the western continent, but her older sister married into nobility and ever since she's been raised here as a noble, but that never made her forget her roots as a person who had to fight for everything she had. I loved her for it. 

We reached the doors to the dungeon, and Kurisa didn't even flinch when I opened the door and she didn't flinch as we walked down and the scent of rot filled the air. She kept her head high the only sign she was uncomfortable being her silence. I started walking faster wanting to get her out of this place as soon as possible. 

I walked to the furnace that was near the entrance before you turned the corner to see the cells, and opened the door. A blast of heat hit me and I quickly threw in the washcloth into the furnace, and slammed the door closed before anyone could smell the burnt blood. 

The reason I could never let anyone near my blood was because, every time someone smelled my blood they would pass out, and if they came into contact with it, they would die, their insides boiling after coming in contact with my blood.