The Rebel (#Wattys2016)

17. We Won

Prince Skander, not used to sleeping with someone else, woke up when Adeen stirred besides him. He stared at her for a while, at her body pressed against his, at his skin against hers. Her dress was lying on the corner of her room, feet away from his shirt.

The music was gone, but it was still night. The party must have finished. And that meant Skander had skipped his speech. God, his father would be furious. He would probably demand Adeen left. But Skander wouldn't let that happen. If she left, then he followed her.

But still, he couldn't keep out the image of his father's whip that time he had disobeyed him. Skander sighed and got up as slowly as he could, terrified he might wake Adeen up. When he finally got up, he silently crept to her balcony.

He sat on the ledge just like he had that night when he first met her. He remembered the way the city lights illuminated half her face, as if the other half was a secret. The gleam on her black eyes as she teased him, her smile. God, her smile. A hundred whippings would be worth it if he got to see that smile again, as corny as it sounded.

He heard footsteps and turned to see Adeen come out to the balcony, wearing his shirt. It was big on her, and she looked so good in it.

"Hey." She said as she sat across from him, exactly the same as that night. "What time is it?"

Skander shrugged. "I don't know. Late, if the party's over."

Adeen nodded. She turned to the gardens. They were quiet for a moment, then, she spoke as she pointed to the gardens.

"Is that— Is that someone?"

Skander turned. Sure enough, a man stumbled through the gardens. He collapsed.

"Rebel?" Adeen asked, already entering that soldier mode of hers.

Skander shook his head. He knew the uniform the man wore by heart. "Guard." He stood up.

As if she had read his mind, Adeen handed him his shirt. He put it on and tried not to look at her almost naked body as she crossed the room and put some pants and shirts on. She followed him out of the room, down the halls until they made it to the gardens.

It took them a few minutes to find the fallen man, but when they did, they stood, dumbfounded.

The man was lying, looking towards the sky, both his hands cut off. Skander hurried to scan his wounds and Adeen to see if he was awake.

"Hey, you there?" Adeen asked. The man stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. "Hi. You're safe. You're in the palace."

The man shook his head. "I'm not safe. Neither are you. The palace isn't safe."

Adeen turned to Skander. "Should I go get help?"

Skander shook his head and she understood. The man had lost both his hands, and too much blood.

"My right pocket." He said. "They told me to give you a message."

Skander followed his instructions and found a paper. He opened it and shuddered. Adeen knew whatever it said was not good, so she turned to the man.

"It's okay." She said as she stroke his blond hair. Blond, it must have been, before his blood turned it red.

"They cut my hands. It was a game. They said that if I didn't find a way to put the paper into my pocket, they'd kill me. If I managed to do it, I'd be free. I agreed, and then they cut off my hands. Didn't tell me before."