Elwanda

Chapter 18 - After Effects

Most of the time, the gory sight of a half-dead, or rather dying, damsel sprawled out in a pool of her own blood would have moved any gentleman to come to the rescue immediately.

But it was a different case for the Steward.

Though he received the impulse to take a step forward, the Steward's reluctance lasted long enough for him to begin to question his resolve. The sincere truth was that the humane part of him felt driven to do something about Elwanda's situation. With the blood in her tousled hair, upturned bloodstained hands and her eyes shut in what could turn into a deathsleep at any moment, she looked absolutely helpless and a pitiful sight.

However, hate and logic kicked in and chased away budding sentiment in his heart.

She was a witch.

After all, she was slated to die.

He convinced himself that fate had simply presented an easier method of doing away with her, and he felt satisfied with it. Best to let her die in a lonely hallway and save the whole of Rauloring the trouble. In fact, he would be glad to break the news of her horrible death himself to Alodie; even to Raegros – of how the Lady Dove Dale met the saddest ending after a terrible accident. If she had been gentle mannered and not an absolute thorn in his flesh all the time, he would not have contemplated on whether to save her life or not.

With these thoughts in mind, the Steward turned to go.

But something irked him deep inside and brought him to a halt.

Whether or not he wanted to admit it, Elwanda had purposefully gotten in the way of the falling statue. It should've been his body lying in a pool of blood, not hers. Besides, he had glimpsed the great fear in her eyes just before she shoved him – with interesting strength – to the side. She had known just how fatal the accident would be and took the blow nohow.

She saved his life.

It felt like needles were weaving loops in his head as the Steward hurried forward and bent to lift her into his arms. She felt about as weightless as a pillow and the strong stench of fresh blood hung around the heavy fabrics of her dress.

Starting down the hallway in a half run, he realized that Elwanda grew heavier and deduced that time was running out.

Once halfway up the stairs, he began to yell.

"Help! Someone!"

A servant turning down the next hall with a tray in her hands spotted him and suddenly let go of the brass.

"Ambassador?" She gasped, fingering her lips anxiously as if she held back on a scream.

"The royal physician." He groaned, hefting Elwanda at intervals because she slipped from his grip almost every second. "Take me to the royal physician."

The servant held her dress and raced down the hall she had just come from. As they hurried down, other servants and palace guards on duty sighted them, and panic arose.

He bore Elwanda up a flight of curving stone stairs and luckily, the very first door down the hall was where the servant halted.

"Remus!" She barged in, holding the door wide for the Steward to follow suit.

An elderly man took great strides out from behind a tall shelf of books that he was much taller than. At the sight of the emergency, he rushed forward.

"What has happened?" He questioned, reaching out to help the servant clear off a bed.

"A statue. It fell and crashed into her by accident." The Steward revealed, gingerly setting Elwanda down on the bed. "She has lost an alarming amount of blood."