Tending To The Prince (2/2) || Reyin

Hael threaded the needle through me again, and I sucked in another sharp swallow of air. I couldn't prevent the whimper that stumbled past my lips.

"Almost done," he said, almost tenderly, and then the needle pushed into me again.

My hand crawled forward, finding somewhere on his sleeved arm and squeezing. Hael's muscles tensed briefly before relaxing again, and I made sure to squeeze passionately at every sting of pain so he at least felt every bit of my agony. 

By the time Hael finished, I was a panting and sweaty mess. I feebly pushed off his coat, letting the frigid air sweep across my body to cool me down. This time when he cleaned my wound, he gingerly applied an ointment I recognized. I sat up when he tried to bandage me, as he was already crossing the line with the duration of his hands on me. Taking the bandage from him, I carefully wrapped it around my waist despite the repeated strike of pain attacking me in this crunched position. 

Throughout my torment, Hael watched me, his jeweled eyes tracking every one of my movements and waiting for the moment I would need him. I decided then I wouldn't allow myself to rely too heavily on him. He was a murderer and couldn't be trusted. Dropping my guard was what he wanted me to do, and it unsettled me that I knew not of what he planned to do with me.

The moment I could walk far enough on my own, I would slip away and find someone who might be willing to help me and explain the condition of the kingdom now that its royal family had been murdered. I desperately needed direction because I did not know what I could do on my own.

Hael's eyes lingered on my stomach for moments too long, and I fought the prickly urge to close my garments—not wanting him to know his gaze affected me. Eventually, he did look into my eyes, and I wasn't sure which was worse: holding the attention of a murderer or making eye contact with him.

"You need water. And food," Hael expressed. 

"Are you prepared to serve me now? Is that how it works? As long as it seems like your suggestion, you become acquiescent? You must not like being told what to do," I said, a bit sardonically and wanting to get under his skin. 

It was wrong to provoke him. To provoke anyone. But anxiety was running rampant in my chest as I waited for this nice facade of his to end. I needed him to show me the apathetic villain he was beneath this, and the sooner I pulled his true character to the surface, the easier it would be to hate him. 

Hael only looked at me, his eyes falling to my neck and lingering. There was a scar there, too, from my time in the village. I had gotten into many fights as a boy, protecting those who couldn't stand up for themselves. Most of the individuals I'd challenged were wealthy children from the inner cities who'd wanted someone to pick on. And they hadn't fought fair.

The horizontal scar on my throat had nearly killed me. It was a hideous blemish, a jagged and soft gray trail across my white skin. Self-consciously, I covered my neck.

"Don't pretend to care," I murmured. 

Hael's gaze was a torch to my skin, light acknowledging all my blemishes and heat melting away my existence. He said nothing and walked off, but not before handing me a pouch of water. I didn't know where he'd gone off to, but eventually, he'd been gone for long enough that I began to worry my attitude had irritated him enough to abandon me here for another rogue to find me or a bear to devour me. 

The idea of depending on him sickened me, but I was in no condition to take care of myself right now. I sipped on the cool water worriedly while I waited. He might have been ready to abandon me, but he wouldn't sacrifice his horse and supplies to do that, would he?

I still needed Hael; at least for another few days.

An hour later, Hael returned, and my eyes sought him out with relief that sickened me. His pant legs were folded neatly beneath his knees, revealing smooth and toned calves that dripped with water. His feet were bare as one hand carried a long stick of hanging fish and the other his boots. 

Hael dropped his shoes by the chestnut, grabbing a few supplies, and walked into the shallow water ahead to bring a long slab of stone to our campsite. There, he began to prepare the fish. 

"What did you use to catch those?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. I hadn't seen him bring his sword or a net with him.

Hael paused on his knees, sliding his vibrant gaze over to me. He cocked his head, lips twitching like he wanted to smile but prevented himself from doing so. "My bare hands."

My eyes widened, moving to the slippery fish. 

They prompted a fond and warm memory of a childhood friend I'd had who would try finishing with his bare hands. As children, we couldn't have afforded fishing rods, and our fathers would not allow us to use theirs without supervision. So, my beloved friend would wade into the deep lake water beside our neighboring homes and try to capture fish with his bare hands for dinner. They would slip out of his small grasp, and he'd send me that helpless, adorable look that had me following him into the water. But I hadn't been any more skillful than him, even though my hands had been slightly larger. 

I missed the days of my youth. I missed having friends and parents who loved me. I loved my adoptive family, too. They weren't all terrible. No, for my oldest sister, Emelia, and her twin brother, Ellis, had been the only two of my six siblings who hadn't gone out of their way to mock my existence. 

They hadn't exactly been loving, but they hadn't been mean either. Indifferent to my presence entirely, rather. And it was pathetic I loved them the most because of that. However, my biological parents and everyone I'd had back in my village would always hold a significant portion of my heart. 

"You can admit you're impressed," Hael said, and it startled me that he was smirking. His gaze held me, his dangerously dark hair daring to swoop low and hide it from me.

My eyes caught on his wavy strands that seemed like they almost wanted to curl, quietly fascinated with how calmly they swayed in the wind. The way they danced was too familiar. I stuttered my next breath and tentatively found his eyes again. I flicked my wrist dismissively. "Anyone can catch a few small fish." 

Why was my heart resonating with the sight of him?

"Oh really?" he mused.

My lips twitched at the playfulness in his voice. "Really."

"And you are sure you aren't too spoiled, Your Highness? I assumed earnest labor would send any royal into a coma." It seemed like he'd intended for it to be a jab, but he was smiling, and it was dazzling, so…I was uncertain. 

I cleared my throat. "Being royals doesn't make us sloths. We still do things for ourselves." And I wasn't always a royal. I didn't admit that part. Mostly everyone knew already. 

Hael hummed like he didn't believe me.

"Really," I persisted, for some odd reason wanting him to. 

And Hael's eyes were amused when they danced over me. He dropped his knife—it had been strapped to his calf—and wiped his hands on the small towel draped across his lap. "Then I suppose you don't mind finishing up here? I should get a fire going."

I knew he was only teasing, failing to believe I would actually gut the fish and clean them, and that was what encouraged me to walk over to him. I supposed I could have crawled as my pain suggested since he was only a few feet away from me, but I'd wanted to treasure the last shred of my dignity.

Hael watched me, eyes wide and glowing innocently again. I sat down carefully across from him, crossing my legs and closing my eyes briefly. I felt dizzy again, like I would tip over any moment now. 

I grounded myself with a deep breath, then opened my eyes to reach for his knife. Hael caught my wrist, uncertainty grieving his features.

"Don't touch me," I seethed, panic bleeding into my veins. 

His touch on my wrist loosened. "I was only kidding. Let me do it."

"I'm capable."

"I know you are," he assured, and the soft look in his eyes told me he was being honest. I didn't want to believe him—about anything—but I was exhausted and in pain, and letting my stubbornness control me wasn't good for recovery.

Hael nodded over at the bed. "Go lie down. I will cook for you."

I tensed my jaw, making my way over to it. Courage spread through me under the cover of his fondness for me, enough that I could say, "Please don't speak like that. Like we're intimate. We aren't friends, Hael. To me, you are only the man who murdered my family and stole my home away from me. Or have you already forgotten how evil you are?"

Decently comfortable on the bed now, I looked over to find Hael staring at me, something about my words sending him into a distant headspace. His gaze was blank, unfocused on me, and there it was again. That innocent look to him. And for some reason, it contained my heart in a life-threatening hold. It was too familiar. I felt a clawing in my chest as I watched him. 

For some reason, it felt instinctual to bear…affection for him. It felt innate. Fundamental. Natural. But that should have been impossible.

The blood loss was confusing my head. 

Hael regained himself, his gaze returning to the fish he carved. And quietly, his voice danced across the wind. "I haven't forgotten."