Honestly it's a cesspool of POV's

The nurses tried to get Connor to hold him down, but one man wouldn’t be enough, especially since they needed to be careful with him. The man’s bad arm hung off the table, the bloody dagger still lodged in his arm with the tip pointing threateningly out the other side. The other arm though, swung out at anyone who dared get close enough to him. Legs kicked out and the man was a thrashing animal, no doubt worsening his wounds. A couple of the nurses were brave enough to keep him from vaulting off the table like a rabid dog with the help of Connor, but it was scarcely enough.

It was clear it would take a war effort to calm the man down, but suddenly everyone stepped away from him. His breath came out in heaves and his nostrils flared, but his eyes did focus as Gennadius appeared over him. Nilo nearly snapped at her, but the woman didn’t touch him. As long as she didn’t touch him this would be fine. The man opened his mouth to produce what would have been a stuttering response, but then he spotted Augustus enter the room and people began to move for him again. The battle then resumed.

Except this time, there was more than just Connor. There was the addition of Theophilus and Damien, who moved to hold his upper half down. The advisor took his bad side, strong hands forcing his shoulder down with a loud thump, causing the prince to cry out in pain. “Shut up and let them help you! Do not make me dislocate your shoulder!” Damien snarled, “Where the hell is sedative?! Get him some damn sedative this won’t work, he’ll only hurt himself!” He hollered, unaware Augustus had already formed a plan.

With Connor prying Nilo’s mouth open they managed to force a dose of the stuff down his throat. Well, what he didn’t spew back in their faces. “Why isn’t he calming? That’s strong stuff?” One of the nurses asked tentatively as Nilo continued to curse and howl, clearly unaffected. Although Damien didn’t respond that time, anyone who knew the prince well enough knew he had been an alcoholic. There would have to be enough sedative to out-do his tolerance.

It was then, at the most unfortunate of times, Leonel entered but froze in the doorway. Eyes bluer than the sky shattered instantly, terrified as they watched his only son in agony. The pain in his gaze was one of a father who had already seen one of his children covered in blood and had lost them. The man had left a luncheon with his nobility, having Theodore, who had informed him in the first place, escort them out. “Who did this?!” The king demanded, though nobody but the prince currently knew the answer, “I swear on each of the Gods if this boy dies I am firing the entire infirmary staff!” Leonel had lost all the grace of a ruler, the man only a fearful father, “I am not losing another son today.” Came the threatening snarl, though, at the end of the day, he would not be firing his staff.

Nilo’s body bowed as they forced another dose down his throat. A normal person took two to three at most and they were on dose four with hardly any improvement. The prince hacked, choking on the liquid for several moments, not taking anything easily. “GET AWAY!” The injured royal boomed, spitting blood into the face of Augustus. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” Things would have been easier if they could have just poured the jug down his throat, but if they did that, they risked overdose or Nilo drowning in it.

It was after what seemed like an eternity he finally seemed to slow, but he still wasn’t settling. They were about to give him another dose when Leonel finally shoved his way in, shaking his head. “He’s had enough,” He said firmly, “just give him a minute.” He received a look from Augustus but disregarded it. His father leaned over him, palm coming up to his son's cheek. Pale eyes flashed and a hand reached up and grabbed the back of his father's shirt to protest but softened as a rough thumb ran over his cheek and all that was feral faded from the prince’s eyes, replaced by his fear. “You’re okay,” Leonel murmured, hand delicately moving to his forehead to brush his son's hair back, “it’s okay Nilo, you’re going to be fine.” His father reassured him.

Nilo’s mouth opened to respond, but no sound came out, too weak to form a sentence as light eyes began to shed tears. He had nearly been killed, he was in excruciating agony, the stress and horrors of the entire situation getting to the man as he finally began to lose consciousness. Leonel pressed his forehead to his child’s, knowing he was still fighting to stay awake when he needed to be treated. “Sleep Nilo,” He implored his son, “Sleep and let them take care of you, you won’t feel a thing, I promise you.” It was when Nilo’s eyes finally closed Leonel stepped away, letting the doctors move to tend to him. A hand came up to his eyes to wipe away his own unshed tears. “Augustus, take care of him. He’s all I have.” And it was with that soft, vulnerable statement, the king exited, leaving them to finally tend to the man’s last son.

Every yell that came from Nilo, shouted protest, sickening thud of his body thrashing came with an unprecedented force in Gennadius’s mind. She couldn’t do anything... and she cursed being a woman for that. She cursed everything in those moments, from the reality of life itself to the ever-fading belief that there really was such a thing as fate. She desperately wanted to help, wanted to be able to comfort him and be the one to calm him down. She needed to be there, and she couldn’t.

Her head swiveled at Leonel’s entrance and his threat portrayed every fear that echoed in her eyes. But it was the king that was given the chance to see the man before he fell into unconsciousness. Which was as it should have been, it being the calmest she had seen the prince since she found him covered in blood in the infirmary. It was almost surreal how everything seemed still for those moments with just the soft reassuring murmurings of the king before he stepped back to allow Augustus to do his job.

It was the first time she was given a chance to get close to Nilo, Augustus, for a reason beyond her understanding, actually let her come over in the calm of the storm. He and the nurses were already working on his torso and trying to stabilize his injured arm as the woman came over near his head. There was an indescribable amount of terror in her eyes as she reached out, fingers dusting the prince’s jaw, managing to cover her hand in his blood. And with that, the calm was over, her hand withdrawing into a fist as she took a step back, turning on her heels and marching out to join the rest of the concerned group.

But this time... it was her turn to release all hell and Damien was the unfortunate soul who happened to be closest and make the most obvious target of her fury. There was no hesitation from exiting to marching right over to him, hand snapping out to grab him by the shirt collar and using the momentum of her steps and surprise of her attack to ram him into the wall. “WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?! HUH?!” Her voice echoed off the halls as he shoulders had begun shaking, the terror replaced by an unbridled fury, though in the end, it really wasn’t towards Damien.

“I thought you were supposed to be with him! Or at least have MADE SURE he had a guard!” she snarled, needing to blame someone for this. “YOU’RE DAMNED USELESS!” Her bloodied hand had only tightened around the already stained fabric as she pressed closer, anger and what was dangerously close to hate dancing in the dark orbs, that had seemed to darken all the more in the wake of the current events. They were cold and they were dangerous.

Theophilus was the one who dragged her, quite literally, out of the infirmary itself to leave the others in peace. His own green eyes flashed, showing that this was not going to be one of those times where he patiently allowed her to let out her frustrations. No, this time he was putting his foot down and the woman could spit all the curses of the world in his face if she wanted. He didn’t care. “Get yourself together,” he growled as he shoved her out into one of the main halls. “You don’t think Damien and Theodore are already doubting themselves? If you want to play it that way, where the hell were you?”

Gennadius took a step back, eyeing the man that was driving his point home, but it only seemed to infuriate her all the more. “Doing my job! Damien should have made SURE he had a guard... or gone with him!” she snapped back, straightened as her nostrils flared, hand coming to rest on her hilt, though it was an action of comfort, not actual threat.

“Stay out of the infirmary until you can act like a mature adult,” was the only reply before the man gyrated around and marched back to be with the others while everyone waited to see what Augustus had to say. Everyone but Gennadius who now stood alone, staring after the Captain. But his words only kept her quiet for a minute before she released her fear and anger on the castle walls, hand coming to make contact with one that made a booming echo through the castle. Explicative were shouted with unprecedented force and speed, no doubt able to be heard all the way to Nilo’s room. She paced in a violent circle as she did so, the servants skittering far from her who had been about to pass through.

It infuriated her that they knew nothing of what had happened... that no one knew how many attackers there had been or where it had happened. No description, nothing! Except... Conner said Nilo has stumbled into his shop. Which meant there had to be a trail of blood to the scene itself! The woman didn’t stop to even ask herself if it was a good idea to go. No, she was focused on doing something, and that something was going to be catch, and maybe even kill the bastard who had done this.

She told no one where she was going, just marched out and started for the city. The only tell-tale that she was gone was the new silence her absence was creating. And perhaps she should have changed out of the bloody clothes, but again, there was very little thought that was going into this process, just determination. Let the rest sit and be useless! There was an assassin out on the streets and she needed to get him. As much as she yelled at Damien, she felt just as responsible for Nilo’s harm. Because what would it have hurt for her just to make sure he really did have a guard?

Her steps were swift to the blacksmith’s shop, the woman near running there, her sword thwapping across her thigh as she hurried. And just as she thought, it wasn’t hard to tell where it had all taken place. There was a trail of blood coming from the shop front, people eyeing it as the stepped over and around the rather disturbing trail. Those in the shop had already begun cleaning up the mess inside, but she was interested in where it all started now.

Crouching down, her gaze followed the splatters towards... an ally. NILO HAD TAKEN THE ALLEY? Eyes widened in horror as she followed it into the darkness, hand reaching into her boot to pull out one of her own daggers. Her focus was everywhere at once, the woman sliding into the familiar habit she had learned on the streets, paying attention to every shadow, shift in the still air, and slightest sound. Nilo wouldn’t have had a chance out here... and had the attacker not been playing games, she knew the prince would be dead. And that thought caused her hand to tighten all the more around the hilt, finding the original scene it had started.

Her dark eyes darted between the spot and the exit, seeing it was a miracle Nilo had made it out at all. The scene was a mess, blood everywhere. On the ground, the walls, splattered in the oddest of places. There were bits of torn cloth and... Gennadius crouched down again, eyes tracing over a boot pattern. And the print wasn’t from Nilo’s. Her guess was that these were work boot or some kind of slightly more expensive footwear, but not to the point they would stand out in a crowd. But it was still a clue, and one hell of a one. Not to mention, there was no way the attacker could have gotten all the blood off.

Gennadius knew what to look for. From there, it would be about getting the right direction and trying to spot someone who fit all the criteria, had hidden weapons, and perhaps even posture could help. The woman made her way from the alley with this description in her head, rough and prone to mistake, but a whole hell of a lot more than anyone else had. And that’s when she started asking questions around the blacksmith’s shop, from passersbys to the actual workers.

It paid off, as it seemed there had been a civilian that was found looking suspiciously covered, but who had claimed to have tried to help the prince but had been thrown off in the confusion. Hence the bloody clothes. With some further digging, she got a direction and took off after the man, and this time, she had an even better description of what this man looked like. So she took a couple of detours to get onto some of the rooves of the houses and business, trying to get a better view of everyone.

How long she was searching, she did not know before she spotted someone who seemed to fit the description given by the people. With ease, Gennadius made her way back down the staircase of the building she used as her perch and delved into the crowd, determination across her features as she made her way to the spot she had seen the suspect. But when she arrived, he wasn’t there, not could she see him now. A low curse escaped her as she spun in a circle before deciding to duck into the alley way to break out onto one of the other streets to see if the man had done that.

It was halfway through that she spun around in time to dodge the dagger coming for her back, pressing against the wall just in time. Now it all made sense... the attacker had made her out and the bastard had purposefully set it up to lead her into the alley. Though there was little time to think on that as she got her own blade and went on the offensive, making her own slashes towards the man who easily avoided the first strikes.

It was too small of an area for her sword, but she had had enough fight in alley ways to know how to use her small size in the small space to her advantage. At the same time, the attacker seemed to be trained and also had a decent knowledge of how to use the space, and the dance became a deadly one. Except, Gennadius had one thing on her side. She had the man she was supposed to marry dying and it was this bastard who had put him there. And she was going to bloody murder him for it!

Her dagger made contact with the man’s forearm as his leg shot out, hitting her on her bad thigh. It was an unfortunate aim for the woman as she fell her knee with a hiss, managing to roll off to the side. But not without getting another well aimed hit striking her across the left of her collar bone. But it was at the same time that her arm shot out with the dagger, so as his knee, meant for her head, struck the tender area near her shoulder, she brought her blade across his leg.

The man let out a howl as she managed to her feet, the two going hand to hand again, though it was clear the attacker was growing more disoriented as she pushed on and he was starting lose for a second time. He got a few good slices towards her, though he did no more than superficial cuts on one of her arms and a few along her side. No, she was bearing down and her blade had been replaced by her knee striking the man alongside the head as he crumpled, followed by what sounded like a crunching noise as her boot contacted with the man’s ribs, no doubt at least cracking a few.

It was then, the man having dropped his weapon that she snatched him by the shirt, her dagger held near one of his lungs as her voice lowered, “I should stab you right now and have the satisfaction of watching you bleed out all over this alley way, just like you planned on for the prince. Maybe add a few more cuts just for the fun of it. That’s what you consider fun, isn’t it?” Her voice was scarily cold as she moved the dagger to beneath his chin. “Or maybe I should just slit your throat for treason...”

But, no matter how deep her blood lust, reason was coming back and with it, the knowledge that she needed to bring the bastard in alive to be questioned. And perhaps Leonel would appreciate being the one to give the death order... So she grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back as she moved the blade to press against his spine. “But... I’m going to take you to the king instead so he can be the one to gut you in the dungeons and make you pay hell for what you’ve done,” she hissed pushing him forward.

She was still at a disadvantage with a slight limp from the kick, but as it happened, one of the city guards was nearby and hailed down. With the man’s help, they dragged the attacker back to the castle, hands tied now. The way back seemed longer than before but this time, instead of Nilo being the one dragged in, they had his attacker. Which was promptly tossed violently into one of the rooms next to the war room with strict instructions to the guard to keep him there.

“Be sure to tell the king we have the bastard who did it. And see if you can get any information out of him,” she growled to one of the guards as a servant was sent off scurrying to inform Leonel. As for Gennadius, she made her way to her room in the barracks first, taking the time to quickly clean herself up, haphazardly wrapping her forearms where she had a few minor cuts and throwing on clean clothes. She left her hair down as she pulled on Nilo’s coat, flipping the collar up as she buttoned it to hide the bruising that was beginning to form along her shoulder and neck. The sleeves were also left down to cover up the crappy bandaging job.

It was like this that she made her way back to the infirmary, rather complacent looking as she moved towards the man’s room. “How is he?” the question was worried as she glanced at the door, the limp mostly gone except for the very slightest hitch in her step on occasion as the muscles calmed down from their shock. “Damien...” she started as she turned to look at him but stopped for a moment. What was she really to say to the man? “I’m sorry.” It all seemed rather lackluster, but the woman had just spent more adrenaline than was healthy and her actions and exhausted look were evidence of that. But still needed to know what the word was on Nilo, because that was what really mattered to her.

Damien

Damien was waiting outside the prince’s new room, which Leonel currently haunted for fear of his son’s condition taking an unexpected turn since they had him stable. The dagger they had pulled from his arm was set aside as a form of evidence in hopes to track down the criminal who had Nilo in the infirmary, covered in an obscene amount of bandages and no doubt sickened by the amount of sedative they’d forced into his body. While someone talked to Connor the advisor waited for his king to emerge so the man could receive what they knew so far and hopefully provide him some sort of comfort, even if Damien was the worst person for that job.

Thus far the king had been inconsolable. There were no tears, but the man had been dead silent with a seemingly permanent expression of pain, flooded with overwhelming fear and worry. The father and son were both extremely readable and usually, it was a good thing, but now it only served to make Damien worry. If the king, who was always a strong persona and figure, had been reduced to a frazzled mess, what did that mean? But the man had faith, as Augustus had said he would pull through.

It was then Gennadius returned to the scene and he stiffened, straightening himself from where he leaned against the wall. Eyes narrowed as he prepared for another outburst, but she just seemed drained and concerned for Nilo, who was just behind the door. “Alive,” Damien responded gruffly, about to walk away without telling her the rest when she apologized and he sighed, running a hand through his hair which he had torn out of his ponytail in stress. Granted, it was a small apology considering she had chewed him out and called him useless, but the man figured she deserved the rest of his report.

“Augustus says he should make it through the night. A couple of the wounds had to be stitched, but most were just shallow enough to go without. There was a deeper stab wound at his hip that he lost a lot of blood from. He’s lucky he didn’t die from that. If he hadn’t found Connor, he probably would have bled out…” Damien trailed. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, so many more ways the man could have died, not to mention that his arm probably saved him, given it had disarmed the assailant, even if he was left with a horrific wound.

“As for the arm, he has a couple of fractures and other damage, but he should still be able to move it and he should regain full mobility. He’s in a splint now to keep it straight because who knows how he’ll be when he wakes up,” Damien explained, as no one was too sure if the prince would wake up and be mentally unsound or if he would be calm. The scene in the other room had stunned them all, their docile, positive prince turning into a rabid animal that foamed at the mouth.

Damien leaned back against the wall. “A lot of bruising on his torso, but no broken bones there. His jaws purple, but he’s lucky he didn’t break it.” Satisfied with what he had given her, the man fell silent for several moments before speaking again, his voice low and his eyes faintly displaying hurt. “You forget who was the one who stood by him for two years and was his only friend. It would behoove you to remember who was the only one he had because you left.” Was he really angry at Gennadius for leaving those years ago? No, that was none of his business, but the man also wouldn’t be her personal punching bag.

The advisor already felt inadequate enough seeing the prince half-dead on that bed. “He said he was taking a guard, so we believed him. He is an adult who made a bad decision and I am not responsible for that.” Damien pointed out, even if deep down he believed it was his fault for not being so overbearing, for feeling like it all could have been prevented if the man had followed Nilo to the barracks to make sure someone accompanied him. Damien sighed again and poked his head into the room, where Leonel sat hunched over his son’s unconscious form. “Your majesty?” He questioned tentatively.

“Yes, Damien?” Leonel didn’t look his way, but the words had been the first he had spoken since the initial incident.

“I’m not trying to take you away from him,” Damien was treading lightly, not looking to be snapped at, “but Gennadius is here to see him. Would you mind coming with me so we can discuss the situation with the others? Your input is required.” The advisor's voice was softer than down as he tried to coax the king from his child’s side, which would have been humorous given the situation was a different one. “She’ll be here for him, sire.”

The king sighed and rose, walking numbly towards the door and opening it the rest of the way so he could step out. Leonel looked rather sickly, though physically he was fine, he was only nauseous from worry and afraid for his son. He only nodded wordlessly at Gennadius and walked away, with Damien, leaving Gennadius to take the king's place.

Nilo

He could hear his father talking quietly, voice low and familiar, yet he couldn’t find his consciousness. His mind was a haze from the sedative, the man no doubt intoxicated given the amount they had shoved down his throat. Everything hurt and the man could not even process how much pain he was in, much less actually drag himself into the dredges of full consciousness. Nilo heard the sound of a chair scooting back and a faint fear poked its way through the fog. He was being left alone. He didn’t want to be left alone. Not when he felt so weak and hurt, with his father’s voice gently pulling him back to consciousness. The man wanted comfort, but he couldn’t yet find the strength to speak.

A soft noise of protest escaped him, but it was nothing more than a whimper and his father had already walked away. The king had not heard his plea. Why had his father left him? Suddenly the prince felt a need to be alert, a new sense of foreboding coming now that his father had walked away, but his body desperately begged him for rest. Da… Da come back. I.. don’t want to be alone.

The woman was grateful for his report, though she still knew her measly apology was nowhere near what he deserved. But her focus was on Nilo, absorbing all the information that was being given to her. How long had she been gone? No doubt at least a couple hours. The hip wound bothered her quite a bit, wondering how deep it was and how much mobility it would impair, if any. The arm was also concerning, though she was relieved when it was clarified that it would be alright.

The rest was expected and nothing to worry about. Gennadius had assumed the jaw was going to bruise before she left, the mottling already starting when she had traced her fingers there. But bruising was better than broken in so so many ways. Overall, the report wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either. As long as he pulled through, she could care less if he had an eternal limp or his arm stopped working... just as long as he survived the night and made it back to thriving again.

At the tone shift, she knew he was referring back to her previous accusations, though she did flinch slightly when he referenced her leaving, as if she had done some horrible depilating thing to Nilo. Had her arm not been sore, her collar bone aching, and all her energy drained, she might have actually grown defensive about that. Damien didn’t know how painful that decision had been, how it had been made for Nilo. He did not know how she had spent that night comforting the man, still aware that in the morning she would be leaving. But she also knew it was coming from his hurt at what she had said earlier, which had held no grounds either.

“You don’t have to explain yourself Damien, I know this wasn’t your fault,” she said softly, though did not push the subject further. Not now. Instead she allowed Damien to talk to the king, able to see the man who was clearly upset. And why wouldn’t he be? Nilo was his son... but not only that, his last remaining son, the other killed. She was hurting, but she couldn’t imagine what the man must be going through. No... Gennadius could never imagine such a thing.

As they started away, the woman paused at the door, looking back at the group. It seemed the servant meant to tell Leonel had either gotten lost or just didn’t know where to go. “You can find out what happened if you go two doors down from the war room. Damien, you should enter first and with caution just to be safe.” She did not explain what she meant, only moved into the room, closing the door behind her, dark gaze scanning over the bandaged yet familiar form. This... this shouldn’t be, and yet it was.

“I should be angry with you,” Gennadius spoke softly, not even sure if Nilo could hear her in his state. But when she had passed out, she remembered Damien’s voice. Not what he said, but his presence. “What were you thinking taking the alley, huh? And then being dragged in here in a bloody heap... you gave me a heart attack. I still have to find out a decent apology for Damien. I wasn’t exactly kind to him by any means.” She sighed, moving to make sure she was on the side of his good arm, pulling the chair closer to the head of the bed.

Her hand reached out to run her fingers soothingly through his hair, the gesture meant to comfort both of them. “It’s all like some nightmare... And I know I should be the one comforting you but damn it Nilo... I want you to be comforting me. I want you to be able to hold me and promise you’ll be alright. To remind me that you love me and you wouldn’t dare leave me here alone.” Her voice was thick, her exhaustion and adrenaline hangover causing her to struggle with her emotions.

“You’re supposed to marry me soon, you hear me? You proposed already and I can’t very well go announcing that and going to a ball without you, now can I? And who is going to rule the kingdom, huh? Damien? I don’t know if you want to leave him in charge. Whole kingdom might get a bad case of the grumps because he decrees it.” It was a terrible joke, and her voice didn’t really hold any of the intended humor but she was trying. Because the longer she sat there, fingers in his hair, looking at him, the more afraid she grew of what would happen if he didn’t pull through.

Gennadius leaned over, mindful of where his injuries were before her free arm draped gingerly over his chest, head burying into neck. The stretch pulled at her own bruise but she could care less, trying to breathe in his scent, feel the soft rise of his chest, and know he was warm. “You’re an ass,” she choked out against his skin, “making me cry like a damned child...” Her shoulders were softly shaking as she stayed there, the one hand still moving in his hair as the tears filled her eyes, getting her face and his neck wet. “I can’t lose you Nilo... you’re all I have in this world.”

Much to his comfort, a voice returned, though it wasn’t his father's. His brow furrowed slightly as he fought to recognize it. Gennadius. It was Gennadius. She had been there earlier, trying to calm him down in the midst of his agonized frenzy, only to have him react worse. Her words started out muddled in his mind, but as she continued to talk to him, things grew clearer. The man could hear her heartache as she hurt for him, her own fears coming into play as her hand ran through his hair.

She wanted him to wake up… dammit he needed to wake up. Nilo’s brow furrowed again, but this time as he struggled to focus. His fingers twitched as he trudged through the fog in his brain. Hadn’t he promised to always be there for her? Come Hell or high water the man planned on keeping his word and if that meant fighting obscene amounts of sedative to get there he would. The woman needed him and he intended to be there for her.

When his eyes finally opened, everything was blurry. His mouth parted and he let out a breath, silent but finally conscious again. But it was still a shaky form of lucidity as the man was fighting the heavy medicine. Everything hurt, but he felt her touch, the way her body shook softly with quiet tears and that was enough for him to reject the tempting sleep. Nilo wanted to lay eyes on her.

A shaky arm shifted, lifting up and around her, palm coming to rest between her shoulder blades, weakly holding on the back of the coat she wore. The man couldn’t do much, given his pain and his inability to use his other arm, which pained him the moment he tried to move it. So he tried his best, anything to dry her tears. “Sorry,” Nilo finally managed, his voice rough and gravelly from his early yelling and overall pain, “I’m sorry Gennadius.” The man apologized, though he sounded weak.

“I’m okay,” Nilo felt the need to tell her that, to reassure her that he would make it through this. He had woken up, right? That meant he was going to be okay, even if it took a while. Her form was warm against his where she leaned over him, tucked into his neck. “So there’s no need to cry, darling.” As he continued to speak the gears began to turn again in his head, eyes finally focusing. Although, the longer he was awake, he realized every breath hurt him and his arm throbbed. Not to mention the nausea, but the man didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was the woman who’s tears stained his neck.

His arm fell back against the bed with a soft “thump”, the man too weak to hold it up. He may have been rather fragile at that moment, but he was alive, breathing, and would pull through. “And I’m going to marry you,” Nilo reassured as he stared at the ceiling, “so don’t go thinking you’ll get off easy, you hear?” He asked and tried to laugh, only to anger his wounds. Nilo groaned quietly at his body’s protests, clearly not used to being in such pain.

The man wanted to sit up, but as soon as he tried to shift he was greeted with the feeling of being stabbed all over again, so he relaxed again with a hiss and a grunt, clearly going to spend the rest of his day horizontal. “I love you,” Nilo told her after a few moments, remembering her early requests, “and I wouldn’t dare leave you alone. I promise I’ll be alright.” His voice had grown stronger since he had begun to talk and at last, the man sounded somewhat like himself and not some dying patient. He sounded more like the prince she knew and loved, even if he was covered in bandages.

He may have been afraid, rattled, and hurting, but Gennadius meant more to him than anything else and the man loved her with his entire being. "But if you start to yell at me," Nilo added with a touch of humor, although it lacked his usual charisma, "I'm going back to sleep," He told her, but his arm came up again, gently tugging her closer without hurting himself, "Thank you for being here," Nilo murmured afterwards, softening, "I didn't want to wake up alone."

She was trying to compose herself, afraid of what would happen if she stopped talking. But Gennadius was also fighting herself and the tears that threatened to turn into a flood. She hated crying and barely ever did, so it was hard when they were actually threatening. The woman needed Nilo... because her life truly was empty without him, which was one of the things she was struggling not to think about in order not to start just sobbing.

The very light touch caused her to lift her head, very aware of just whose touch it was. It wasn’t strong by any means, but it was his touch. “Nilo?” her voice was soft, uncertain as if he really could be awake so soon. Oh gods, she wanted him to be but she afraid to get excited and it to have been a reflexive gesture, though his eyes were open. His eyes were open! And then he spoke, weak and gruff, but he was speaking and making words!

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she murmured, the hand in his hair stilling as she buried her face back against his neck. The relief was more overwhelming as her shoulders shuddered, the softest of sobs escaping her. It was a mix between the relief and her previous escapade, the vision of seeing the man nothing more than a mangled mess of blood... all of it just flooding from her soul hearing him reassure her with his own voice. But she was still fighting for composure, and as he reassured her of their marriage as well, she lifted her head again, sniffling with a soft laugh.

When he started to shift, Gennadius leaned up more, hand coming from his hair to gently rest on his shoulder, “Easy now...” Dark eyes flashed with concern, glancing over him at the hiss as she realized just how much pain her must be in. Hadn’t it been excruciating when her leg had been sliced? And the pain was always there, sickeningly. And here he was, with multiple bad wounds, and a fractured arm...her poor Nilo. But she tried to focus on what he was saying, realizing he had heard what she had been saying before, since he was hitting all the points she had made.

Her hand came up to her eyes again as she tried wiping away some of the tears, smiling at his humor, pleased to see that he was still her Nilo. Not the man that had gone crazy earlier, but the one that was ever optimistic and trying to see a bright side. “Yell at you? I would never,” she murmured with another sniffle, again trying at her own humor but it still lacking the playful tone, instead allowing him to pull her closer, her body shifting to accommodate the tugging while trying to be mindful of his injuries and keep the pressure off her own arms which were still aching.

There was just enough room on the side for her, so she tentatively moved herself on the bed with him, staying on her side (thank the gods it was the one without the superficial slashes which still hurt) as she gingerly draped her torso very lightly across some of his chest so his good arm could wrap around her back. It left her able to look right into his face, and she liked that, constantly glancing over it just to make sure he was still okay. He could try and tell her every second that he was fine, but she would still check.

“Your father was here the longest. I just came in a few minutes ago. Everyone is worried sick about you, you know. Damien was waiting outside your door and Theophilus was worried too... I know because he kicked me out of the infirmary, which I had coming to me,” she explained, starting to talk to try and help keep his focus on her and not the pain that was no doubt plaguing him. “I may have yelled at Damien... I swear I will fix it.”

Her fingers moved across his face gently as she felt silent, mindful of his jaw as the back of her knuckles caressed his cheek. “You scared me, you ass... really scared me.” She shifted forward a bit more to gaze directly down at him, very carefully bending her head to lightly touch her lips to his before pulling back again, “don’t you ever do this to me again, you understand? I don’t appreciate being made to cry.” She was very serious in not wanting this to happen, but there was a very soft breathy laugh that had followed her statement about crying. While she had managed to stem the tears, her cheeks were still stained.

For a moment, she had leaned away to pull the coat off, the room hot to accommodate Nilo and her coat making her near miserable. But as her hand went to the first button, she stopped and decided against it. She didn’t need to explain to Nilo why she had a bruise growing across her collarbone or why her arms were wrapped. “We should tell the others you are awake, you know. Especially your father since he was worried sick.” Her hand reached out again to brush over his cheek, the other taking his good hand and interlacing their fingers.

The only problem was that she didn’t want to leave him alone, ever afraid of what could happen still. That and she had no idea if Damien and Leonel had found the assassin yet, and if so, if it would be wise to disturb them. “When a nurse comes in, we well send someone to tell them, would that work?” she offered, being forced to move to the chair before his body heat added to her already increased temperatures.

Nilo gave a faint nod as she mentioned his father had been there, aware of the man talking to him while the prince was faintly conscious, though it was only Gennadius’s words he had been able to make out. The man felt bad for making everyone worry and rather embarrassed at the scene that had occurred when he was first brought in. Nilo didn’t really want to remember his venomous words and violent intent. Though a brow cocked at the mention of her making Damien made, but he left it at that. The woman said she would fix it and Nilo knew they were good friends.

The woman fell quiet for several moments and his eyes fluttered shut as her knuckles ran over his cheek, the man releasing a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t like to see you worry,” The man told her, leaning into the soft kiss she offered him. “I promise. I’m definitely not looking to be almost killed again.” Nilo couldn’t imagine not feeling her touch again, to not hear her voice. That was when it hit him and he fell silent. He could have died. He had almost died. Without his one opportunity to escape or the help of Connor to get him home, would he have even survived? What if the assassin had slashed him a little bit deeper? There were so many other ways things could have gone worse.

It was not his first brush with death, but this time Nilo had so much more to lose. He had the woman he loved, who he intended to marry. He had friends and his father. The prince didn’t want to die, nor had he in the alley, where every move had been made of fear and desperation. If one more misstep had been made, Nilo could have been nothing more than a body in an alley, covered in his own blood while he waited for someone to discover his corpse.

Nilo refocused as she shifted to remove the coat, but seemingly decided against it. The man was aware the room was warm, given the fact his torso was covered in nothing but bandages and the blankets were notoriously thin. At the mention of the others, Nilo looked somewhat sheepish, not wanting to face anyone following his feral actions. The man knew it needed to be done and nearly agreed, but then he realized he probably shouldn’t get up. He was extremely weak with the familiar haze of intoxication on top of that and to top it all off the process of getting to his feet would probably be rather painful.

So when she recommended the nurse, the man nodded. He didn’t want to be alone in the room, not when he felt like he would see figures in the shadows or the noises of the settling castle would scare him. Nilo had been under the impression he was alone in that alley. How many more times had he assumed he was alone when he truly wasn’t? “They’re going to want to talk to me about it all,” Nilo commented with a sigh, aware he would be having an interrogation of his own. The assassin needed to be found.

Nilo’s hand reached out to recapture hers when she shifted into the chair, the woman looking a little rosy. He didn’t want to let go of her, not yet. “You can always take the coat off, y’know, this room was heated for a half-naked man, not a woman bundled up for winter,” Nilo told her, faint humor sparkling in his eyes as he was regaining himself. Her presence always seemed to calm him and he probably wouldn’t really grow anxious and stressed until she left.

It was then the man attempted sitting up again, gritting his teeth as he shoved himself up against the headboard. It was a rather painful series of hissing and grunting, but once he succeeded he felt a surge of triumph, even if he was winded and the nurse would probably force him back down once he entered. Eyes drifted downwards as his torso was fully exposed, although there wasn’t much skin to be seen. No, he was a bundle of bandages, spots of blood outlining the wounds that scatter his body. Gently, the man lifted his bad arm into his lap, the splint telling him it was broken in some fashion.

“I wonder what happens now…” Nilo wondered aloud, not quite sure what happened once one had an assassination attempt. “I mean, how are they supposed to find him? I never even saw his face… I guess we have the dagger, but that’s not much.” The prince sighed, worried that such a violent person was on the streets, let alone possibly coming back for a second attempt.

“Maybe not,” Gennadius offered when he mentioned them wanting him to talk about it. The assassin was caught, and that would be all the information they would need, right? No point in torturing Nilo into reliving it all. At least she hoped not. Surely the assassin would do all the talking considering he wasn’t in much of a position to do otherwise, with quite a few injuries of his own, most notably the cracked or broken ribs she had inflicted, and would never regret, though she would have rather snapped his arm.

At the mention of the coat, she shook her head, “I’m fine. It’s a comfortable coat, being a few sizes too big and all.” Her own eyes matched his in the light sparkle, though there was something hidden in her gaze. She would have loved to take it off, but right now, she thought it better not. No one knew she had sustained any kind of injury, however nonthreatening and simple they were. That was unless the assassin had brought it up in interrogation but she highly doubted that.

“Nilo!” her thoughts were shattered as he started to try and sit up, but she could tell there was no point in stopping him. Instead she moved one hand behind his shoulder to try and offer support as he moved. “You really should be laying down,” Gennadius sighed, keeping her hand as support while he gained his breath back, “and if Augustus finds out I helped you, you may very well find me in the room next to yours.” But even as she said that, her gaze fell to the bandages, and just by the spots of blood, she knew he was going to be left with quite the scarring.

Her attention was shifted back to his words, and this time she knew there was no real dancing around the truth. Well, not all of it anyway. Her hand rubbed his back very gently as she shook her head, “You don’t have to worry about him Nilo. He’s already in custody and out of the streets, alright?” She didn’t go into an explanation of how this was possible or how they even knew for sure, but he needed to know so he wouldn’t have to worry about the man coming after him again.

“I don’t know why he went after you, but I am sure Damien, Theophilus, and your father are finding out. But no one else has to worry about him, especially you. But we know for sure he is the one,” she offered that much to him, hoping it would appease any questions he might come up with or try to get out of her. The woman couldn’t even imagine how hard this all was for him. In war, everyone was trying to kill you, but as a soldier, when you returned home, you knew better. What would It be like to have someone from a place you considered safe attack you?

Her hand moved from his back to reach out and very carefully touch the splint, fingers running over the device, her eyes saddened, “This never should have happened. Not to anyone but especially you. You’ve done nothing but good...” Her voice was heavy as she looked up to see his face. “You shouldn’t have gone alone, and you really shouldn’t have taken the alley. Oh Nilo... it’s a miracle you made it out...” Her words came from her deep emotions, not reprimanding him by any means, but simply speaking her mind in the realization that it truly was a blessing he had made it.

It didn’t dawn on her that she clearly knew more than anyone should, considering Nilo hadn’t even mentioned taking the alley. But at the same time, she was reaching her hand up to trace around the purple of his jaw. But unlike when he laying down, it brought her arm up straight and since the coat was so big, the sleeve automatically slid down, revealing the hasty bandage job she had given it.

There wasn’t really a way to hide that arm now, though she did pull it away instinctively, glancing at the prince, “Just a few scratches...” It was a hasty explanation, though some of the very light speckling shared that the ‘scratches’ had gone a bit deeper than she was letting on. Not that it would be hard to actually see what was going on, since the bandaging wasn’t that tight, and if wanted, could easily be pulled off to reveal the few light slashes.

Nilo’s eyes widened when she said the man had already been caught, but then his brow furrowed. Had someone caught him on his way out of the alley? Had a city guard seen him fleeing the scene? The prince didn’t understand, but before he could ask the woman continued talking and the man had already relaxed. His assailant had been captured before he hurt anyone else and that was all that mattered to the injured royal.

It was then she seemed to grow sad and his own face fell. He could tell she had been scared, afraid that he wouldn’t make it out from beneath the puddle of blood that had coated his skin. Gennadius was right… he shouldn’t have taken the alley. “It’s a shortcut I’ve taken for years to visit Connor… it’s obvious I won’t be using it anymore though. Who would have thought that one blind spot would nearly be the end of me?” The prince shuddered at the memory. He had been so helpless, stuck taking every blow that rained on him. One of the only exposed parts of the skin on his chest had a large splotch of purple. The perfect size of a fist.

As Nilo opened his mouth to share another piece of his tragedy, he realized something. The man had never told her, or anyone for that matter, about the alleyway. When fingers traced gently of his purple jaw, which would probably be swollen by tomorrow, the man watched her carefully before seeing her sleeve fall, revealing haphazard bandaging. Scratches? He eyed the small specks of blood carefully. Those did not seem like typical scratches. Not to mention the way she pulled away… it was as if she were caught. She was hiding something.

Nilo’s gaze narrowed, her explanation far too suspicious and rushed for his liking. Custody… Alleyway… “Gennadius,” His voice was full of warning, the man having a sickening feeling of what she had done. “What did you do?” He questioned, how now steely gaze making it clear that he was not going to be tolerating any lies or stretched truth. He sincerely hoped he was wrong and she would get angry at him for jumping to conclusions. Then again she had said Theophilus had kicked her out of the infirmary and that she had arrived again not too long ago. She hadn’t had the bandages that morning and judging by the blood it was a recent development.

She wouldn’t have gone after the assassin, would she? Surely she wouldn’t be that reckless… right? His hand reached out and grabbed her bandaged arm, pulling it towards him, his glare just daring her to pull away. Nilo was going to look at it whether she liked it or not. The man delicately used his bad hand to help him undo the wrappings, revealing the slashes beneath. “I did not mention taking an alley and I didn’t tell Connor.” Nilo nearly growled out, eyeing the cuts. These were not from your average sword fight or spar. They were from a honest duel.

“This is not from a sword,” He speculated, not having let go of her arm yet. “No, this is from close combat and you always spar with your sword and if not a sword, you would have gone without a weapon. Not to mention none of your soldiers would be stupid enough to do this several times over.” Eyes flickered dangerously up to hers again, his displeasure already evident. There was no other logical option. Now that he looked at her… she did seem rather drained, although that could have been from the day's events in general. He still couldn’t help but pin a correlation between the two. “In fact, I’d say this from a dagger.”

At last, he released her arm, his suspicious gaze still pinned on her.”Take the coat off, I want to see what else you’re hiding,” Nilo told her, cocking a brow, “and tell me what you spent the afternoon doing Gennadius. I want to hear it.” The prince sounded rather frustrated, though it came from a place of fear and concern. “Please.” He finally added, his voice softening somewhat as worried eyes flicked back down to the wounds.