BRUISES AND BANDAGES

"I would appreciate it if you stopped moving."

I gently tend to Prince Nevan's scars on his arm. We recently fled away from the guards, seeking to find a recently exiled prince who's on the loose. I recently took him into my care. Not for his own protection, but for mine. The Guild, a group of the stealthiest assassins alive, wants to terminate the prince. If I can just turn him in, then I would gain riches beyond my imagination.

"Well, it's hard to keep still when you have gashes on your skin."

"You would've never had them if you would've moved faster," I counter.

His face turns to me, his golden skin illuminated by the fire, his eyes narrowing. "You pushed me in the lake, Nyxia."

I wave his comment off. "Ah, you nearly tripped."

"Right. Of course. I just happened to trip. Totally makes sense."

I sigh. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Nevan's expression softens slightly, though the suspicion doesn't leave his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons," I answer, tightening his bandage. Even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel my his gaze piercing my skin, studying me, burning me. "It's rude to stare, you know."

I look up, and a slight tug pulls on his lips. "I could say the same thing to you."

"What are you talking about?"

He leans his head back, and his dark, silky hair falls with him. "You stare at me, too."

I roll my eyes. "You wish." With an extra tug, I finish bandaging his arm. "There. Good as new."

I arise on my feet and make my way towards the bed. Suddenly, a searing river of pain throbs in my neck. With hesitant hands, I touch my neck and examine the blood that comes with it. I do my best not to cringe. I open one of the compartments and take out a fresh cleaning towel to clean the wound. Then, I hear soft footsteps approach me.

"Allow me," Nevan says, reaching for the towel.

"That won't be necessary," I respond, pulling it back. "I can tend to my own wounds."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're very stubborn."

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is mine," he smiles, snatching the towel away from me. I try to steal it back, but the agonizing pain rushes through me once more.

"Let me help," he insists, his voice softer now.

I want to snatch the towel out of his hands and tell him that my wounds are none of his concern. Instead, I grit my teeth, and give him a nod. I sit down on the bed, and his fingers softly move my hair out of the way. Nevan drenches the towel in water, rings it out, and applies it to my wound. The soft strokes makes me want to fall into an abyss where the soothing sensation is all I feel.

"See?" he whispers. "This isn't so bad."

I let out a slow breath, the tension easing slightly from my body. "You're surprisingly good at this."

"I've had my fair share of wounds," he replies, his touch gentle and careful. "You learn a thing or two." He grabs a bandage from a nearby stand and presses it on my wound. I bite back a wince, but Nevan can see my struggle.

His eyes soften with a mix of sympathy and determination. "Almost done," he murmurs. "Just a bit more."

I clench my fists, focusing on the rhythmic sounds of the forest outside to distract myself from the pain. The cool night air filters through the small window, mingling with the warmth of the fire.