Nilo was calmed so fast it startled him. Perhaps it was her words, her demeanor, or even his own sense returning, but he relaxed. It was quiet development, but the tension he had thrown out into the air faded rapidly. The fire in him dissipated, and was quickly replaced with a confusion. Nilo was a fighter, a prideful man who knew no bounds. Yet, in the face of Gennadius and their highly unusual relationship, he found himself willing to lie down. Feelings were difficult. And how he felt about the guard before him was still up in the air. For once in his life, Nilo had no plan, no prediction of what was to come next. It was enthralling, but terrifying. She already knew more about him than anyone else, but at the same time she knew so little. How was Nilo supposed to continue?

The prince’s eyes fixed on the back of her head from where he stood behind her. His gaze was indignant, unsatisfied, but he made no move to continue his questioning. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t receive an answer. Most of him had already accepted that fact, even though he so wanted the answers to the many inquiries that danced in his head, taunting him. They played on his tongue, but he gritted his teeth, and moved to stand beside her.

Nilo looked out on the market, watching the people move below with thoughtful eyes, absentmindedly playing with a longer locke of his russet hair, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger. Eventually he kneeled beside her, still neglecting to speak. He ate the pastry bit by bit, eating with an elegance that could only elude to his princehood. It seemed as if every bit was some kind of show, but then again with royalty, everything was a performance.

Nilo gave a small nod at her words as she spoke again, not admitting that he didn’t want to return home. He never knew he could relish daylight so much. Even though the sun had not yet reached its final hours in the sky, he felt old fears returning. For awhile, he had allowed himself to be swept up in the hustle and bustle that Gennadius found so alluring, getting the smallest of glimpses into her world. Now the time was coming back to return to his own universe, the one where he was a rapidly breaking prince, with a kingdom whose future rode on his shoulders. Nilo shuddered, not yet wanting to address his inner turmoil.

He felt the guards eyes bore into his back, silently letting him know it was time to get going. For a few minutes, he made no effort to move from where he perched. Nilo’s eyelids had fluttered shut, his head tilted back as he felt the soft winds caress his skin. He would allow himself these last few moments. He needed those few extra moments. The prince needed time to lie to himself, to reaffirm the shaky belief that everything would be okay. Nilo released a faint exhale and stood up, facing Gennadius at last.

For a moment, Nilo examined her, as if trying to figure something out. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. Then, he cleared his throat. It was a gruff, raspy sound, as if his voice had been overused, when in fact, Nilo had never spoken less.

“We can leave. I’m assuming that’s what you’re waiting for.” At last he made an attempt at words. They were careful, as if he had pondered them for several times before speaking them.

What surprised Nilo the most was the patience she had for him that day. He had definitely not been the best companion, yet she had remained kind. It was a relief, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long the behavior would last. It was evident that Gennadius confused the young prince, judging by the constant look of puzzled analysis he gave her.

Nilo turned his head slightly, glancing once more out at the market a flurry of emotions crossing his gaze for a moment before fading as abruptly as they came. The longing was the only thing that remained in his eyes as he looked out across the town. It was a desperate want. For what though, remained undisclosed.

Nilo had just begin to ponder what he would choose for tomorrow's activity, when her question struck him like a well calculated blow. It was casual, calmly asked as if it were your average inquiry. Except she wasn’t asking him what was for dinner. Oh no, Gennadius was asking him a question he couldn’t afford to answer.

Nilo made a strangled noise, a pitiful sound laced with shock and unspoken words. He had flinched so hard at her query it was as if he had experienced whiplash. For a moment, his face contorted with several emotions at once and his light eyes flashed. Each emotion was like another strike, hitting him all in the matter of a few seconds. Nilo continued to jog after her, their eyes not yet meeting, leaving her unaware of his vulnerable moment. How was he to proceed? Oh how tempting it was to unravel, to let his walls shatter. Nilo gritted his teeth. No.

The prince caught sight of her reopening wound, seeing the dark crimson gently seep out her bandage. He quietly cursed it, because although he still felt guilty, if it hadn’t chosen that moment to open back up, he may have been able to avoid the inevitable discussion of his previous nights actions.

Nilo avoided answering for a few more moments, but once she fell back to walk at his side, he tensed. He needed to be very, very careful. Gennadius deserved some semblance of an answer, as she had hurt herself helping him. The guard had done more than her job, not only saving, but offering gentle consolation to the broken prince. He bit his lip, clearly nervous.

How could he possibly admit what he had done? How could he pour his sins atop this woman, making them not only his, but hers to bear? The silence they were in was tense, awkward. His internal battle was clearly written on his face, not having enough focus to hide them behind a calm facade.

Nilo took a deep breath, squeezing his eyelids briefly before giving a soft exhale. “It won’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness.” I wish I could tell you…

For such lackluster words, it had certainly taken a lot of buildup. All that for what, a half-assed admission? He felt pitiful and dumb for being so dramatic. Nilo had expected himself to say more, give a little insight, but when faced with the ultimatum, he had responded with cowardice. The prince had hidden, hand resting on the knob that opened a world of secrets, but never opening it.

Nilo had never exited after they returned. He had bathed and returned to his own clothes, abandoning the sleeveless, skin tight shirt he had been wearing earlier. Although it did wonders for his ego, the way it had hugged his skin had shown off his body, he was glad to settle back into his plain white dress shirt and dark pants. As vain as he seemed, he usually kept himself hidden under baggier clothing, afraid of judgement. Now back in his comfort zone, Nilo spun in the center of his room, enjoying the click of his familiar boots on his tile floor.

For a few hours Nilo did nothing. He stood on the balcony, hands wrapped loosely around the pale marble as he overlooked the land. Land that would one day be his. When he was young, it excited him. A forlorn smile had graced his lips as he remembered the time he had the stars in his eyes, enthralled by the idea of being king. Nilo had so wanted to impress his father, he would take great strides to improve his relations with his people. He had been a decent prince, although his brother, Castor, ran circles around him with no effort when it came to diplomacy.

The wild child. The prince who had once been his father’s pride had fallen from grace, becoming addicted to the overwhelming temptation of freedom. As fiery as his lockes, he had become a sucker for adventure, he had begun to venture into the royal city. Nilo would get drunk. He’d dance in the pub. He would sleep with the women. No longer in love with his father’s praise, he lusted for the spice of life.

“I wonder if the ocean smells different on the other side of the world.”

“By the God’s brother, you’re absolutely drunk. Is that a… dare I say it… a hickey?”

“Hush hush Castor, I may be slightly inebriated, but I am perfectly fine.”

Night fell upon the kingdom. Nilo hadn’t gone down for dinner, instead keeping in his quarters, meandering around the large room till boredom consumed him. He attempted to read a book, but he was unfocused. Eventually he ended up sprawled out on the balcony, sitting and watching the stars, a thick bottle of ale clutched in one of his large hands that he would take a swig from every once in a while. The prince had a secret stash hidden within his wardrobe, perfect for nights he’d rather just forget.

So now he sat his legs stretched out in front of him, one leg crossed over the other, using his free arm to support his weight. His chiselled face was turned up towards the sky as he admired them in slightly drunken way, tracing the hazy constellations with his eyes.

Something was wrong. An unwelcome feeling tore through his haze of pleasure. A shudder attacked his arm. Commotion. The courtyard Nilo. The drunk prince stumbled to his feet, catching himself on the balconies cool edge, using it to keep himself upright. Unfocused eyes landed on the scene.

“Put this wench in her place!"

“Gennadius.” Her name rolled off his tongue almost instinctively as pieces fell into place.She was only woman who could possibly be there. He watched the fight with blurred vision, engrossed in something he couldn’t properly view. They insulted her, called her a variety of malicious names, but they rolled off her back as she moved with ferocity, golden hair like pale flames beneath the moon.

Part of him wanted to go down there, to get a closer look, but he knew better than to meddle in her personal affairs. Having the prince show up three sheets to the wind would shatter any possibility of her victory. Because even if she won the fight at that point, any sliver of her reputation she had regained would crumble in the wake of the drunken prince.

“Ugh, I just want her to liiiike me.” Nilo drawled, chugging more of the liquor, relishing the warm feeling as it rolled down his throat.

When he turned back to the fighting scene, it had dispersed. Nilo groaned loudly, his entertainment lost. The prince floundered back into his room, slumping on the bed. For a few moments he dozed off, the alcohol making him drowsy. But the sound of a door flying open startled him. He flinched, eyes landing on the door that separated their rooms.

Nilo approached slowly, pausing at the knob, hand resting on the cool metal. She likes her privacy. The prince turned back to his bed, fully intending on collapsing, when a soft “thump” and a low curse blessed his ears. She’s hurt. Worry clouded his pale gaze, and he softly opened the door, peering in. Nilo was prepared to apologize instantly, blame it on his drunken stupor, but then he saw her slumped against her bed.

He carefully made his way over to her, eyes wide and cautious. But when she didn’t seem to notice him, his concern grew. Her usually piercing, unforgiving orbs of dark blue were inattentive. Nilo scanned over her fervently, then his eyes landed on her side. Crimson stained the white shirt she wore. The fight. By the Gods.

“Gennadius…” Nilo trailed, gently tilting her head up for his frenzied gaze to meet hers with one hand, while brushing away a few stray lockes of her hair with the other. Stay with me, please. “Gennadius, darl-” He cut himself off, shocking himself at the word he almost uttered. Get. It. Together.

“Talk to me, what happened?” His words had a slight slur, and Nilo knew he was in no condition to help her, but the prince also knew she would want to keep his quiet. “I know you don’t like me, or like talking to me, or like talking in general, but please you have to tell me how to help you. You’re hurt Gennadius.” Ridiculous as he sounded with his slurred rant, the unease in his voice, and his tense body showed how that he was experiencing very sober emotions of anxiety.

Nilo’s hands moved down to her shoulders, allowing her head to slump as he desperately hoped she would pick it back up. He blew a few stray russet lockes from before his eyes, praying for sobriety. I’m so stupid. If I wasn’t so ignorantI could properly help her. I could actually think. I’m useless to her like this. “Gennadius…” Nilo trailed again, speaking her name for the fourth time in those few minutes in a vain attempt to capture her attention.

Nilo grew more frenzied as she slipped further. It was then he realized that she too, was far too out of it to give him directions. “Gennadius dammit.” His voice was sharply rough, as he fought to reach her. That wound, it needs tending. After a few moments, her hand fell away from it, and he moved to look at it, but a foot connected with his chest.

Nilo let out a startled yelp as he fell backwards, head thumping against the tile. It was the pain that dragged him back to land of sense. Clouded eyes rapidly grew focused as he watched her struggle to get to her feet, garbled speech still running from her mouth. “No! Wait-”

It was a blur of movement. Nilo threw himself forward as the headstrong woman collapsed, her slender body crumbling atop him as he slid across the floor, her head thumping against his stomach. Nilo let out a string of curses as she made contact.

Fear. Fear was the only thing he felt when she fell. It was such a familiar feeling, and it thundered through his body, making him its victim. It took everything, left nothing. The fear of losing someone, he knew it all too well. Castor. His mother. One had died, one was going too. But Gennadius didn’t have to die. He wouldn’t let her, even if she wanted to.

The prince gently rolled her off of him, lifting himself up to examine her wound. It was an ugly thing, making itself at home on her ribcage as blood gushed. With a determined growl, he tied his own shirt around her middle, so it could at least soak up some of the blood. It was evident that the gash was just the tip of the iceberg. Gennadius needed help, and she needed help now.

Forming a hasty plan, he scooped the woman into his arms, probably clutching her tighter than he should have, and kicked the door open, stumbling into the dark hallways, creating a scene that was eerily familiar.

A teenager ran through the halls of a grand palace, covered in blood that was not only his own, but that of the figure who was lifeless in his arms. A bloodied, broken blade was slung around his waist. Tears streaked through the blood that coated his features, his face a gruesome sight to behold. The child’s cries filled the air, echoing off the walls.

“HELP”

It was a horrific sound, Nilo’s calls into the dark castle. He ran haphazardly through the halls, headed in the direction of the medicine wing. His bare feet slapped against the tile. Sweat ran down his body in bullets. Not again. Never again. His thoughts were broken, barely understandable, but they ran rampant through his disaster of a brain.

Hair as red as the blood that stained his body, guards had reacted and reached him, stopping him in his mad dash for the infirmary.

“Prince Ni-”

“SAVE HIM!” He had cried back.

The guard took the lifeless body from the prince, but didn’t move. His face confirmed what Nilo had already feared.

“I SAID SAVE HIM!”

The other knights that stood with the man nudged him, and the guard took off jogging towards the infirmary, the dead figure in his arms. As that guard left, Nilo began to sway, the world spinning. The prince's forehead made contact with tile, and the kingsmen that surrounded him gasped in shock. Not at Nilo’s fall, that would prove to be the least of their problems, but at the atrocity that was the gash the covered the majority of the young royals back.

Only one prince had survived that day, and that was Prince Nilo Van Aslan. Castor Van Aslan had died long before they had even reached the castle. The queen’s screams had echoed off the walls, replacing her sons desperate cries with her own. Her youngest son had died. Her baby had died in indescribable pain, his face still contorted with the most gruesome of agonies when she saw his body. His cheeks were still tearstained, eyes still dully depicting a look of horrified betrayal.

The loud thuds of metal boots could be heard farther down the halls. The guards were calling for him, but Nilo wouldn’t stop, he was too close. The prince threw the door to the infirmary open, calling out again. Immediately, help reached him, and suddenly, Gennadius was taken from his arms and he became dimly aware of how close he was holding her.

What happened next was a blur. He couldn't form a solid recollection for the life of him. At some point Gennadius was taken to an actual room to stay in within the small medicinal wing, and Nilo found himself passed out in a chair that sat in her rooms corners, long limbs sprawled as his large body struggled to find comfort in the tiny space.