Dusk of the Realm

29

The princess looked like she was dead.

Her prone body lay on her bed at Tarin's request. He did not want her in the curative wing where anybody was granted access. He wanted her to get her rest in a private place, where she would be unbothered, where she would feel comfortable upon waking up.

Holly worked over Serena until her eyes were bloodshot, though she never once complained. Though she initially asked Tarin to leave the room, he vehemently refused by simply glaring so darkly at Holly that it encouraged her to drop the attempt. However, he did remain utterly silent, doing nothing but standing and staring at the princess who evidently did not know just how adored she was.

Serena had only opened her eyes once. They had been frantic, her pupils bouncing around in their sockets until they settled on Tarin. He heard her say his name, and then she murmured, "My blood, Tarin, my blood..."

At that point, her eyelids fell shut once more, and he could hardly hear the sound of her breathing. Holly had used magic to provide Serena with a change of clothes soon after the guards had carried her to the bedroom, but at the princess' words, he had called Stacia in and ordered her shortly to remove all the blood-soaked cloths that Holly had cut away from Serena's arms, as well as the ones used to clean her cuts. He figured that the smell or sight of it was what was bothering Serena, and was eager to cater to everything and anything that might make her feel better.

He, meanwhile, had never felt worse. Not even when she had been taken from him. At least then he had had hope that he would find her again, and that they would both rejoice when they were reunited. At least then he had had an enemy to seek revenge on.

He had no idea what had made Serena hurt herself like this. And the fact that she had sought to leave him, leave all of them in such a desperate manner made him feel more inadequate and wretched than he had ever felt before.

It had been hours now. Tarin's words to Stacia had been the only ones he uttered. His grief was nearly unspeakable.

Tarin had watched Holly clean Serena's cuts, and had seen that they had gone fairly deep. He had assumed that this was the case, considering the amount of blood that had collected on his bedroom floor. He wondered if the stain of that might ever fully go away. He could still make out Alcern's if he looked closely enough.

Three deep vertical cuts on each forearm, from her inner elbows all the way to the heels of her hands. The mutilation was impossible for him to look at, but he could not look away, either. He had been relieved when Holly had washed away most of the blood; it had created a frightening contrast when stained across Serena's porcelain skin.

Now the wounds were covered up by white bandages, which Holly had required Tarin's help in wrapping tightly around the princess' arms after she had applied some kind of paste to the cuts. He had done as she asked without even a nod, and had dropped Serena's arm and backed away as quickly as the job was completed; she was so cold that it scared him - actually scared him.

From there, Tarin was not sure what Holly had done, exactly. She often parted Serena's lips and poured concoction after concoction down her throat; a whole mix of colored potions had probably gathered in the princess' stomach by now. Holly seemed to speak in streams of words that almost sounded like chants under her breath as she worked, waving certain flowers under Serena's nostrils and laying her fingertips against her temples, her cheeks, her eyelids...

Eventually, she announced that she had done all she could, and that Serena was not dying any longer.

Tarin did not dare to even breathe as Holly continued on with a small, tired smile on her face, informing him that while she would wake up, she would be exhausted and, judging by the cause of her condition, she would likely be withdrawn as well - more so than ever.