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“Cyrus?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Cyrus smiled at me softly, standing from the chair he had been sitting in and stretching his arms above his head, wincing as a loud crack echoed around the room.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He said, his quiet voice carrying around the room despite its low volume. I stood, rooted to the spot as he came around the bed, sliding his hands onto my waist and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I wondered when you would come and see him.”
“I — “ I cut myself off, frowning and wrapping my fingers around the fabric of Cyrus’s shirt, surprised at the fact he was here in the first place, but still staring at Maeteo’s sleeping body. “I had to make sure he was okay.”
“He’s fine,” Cyrus smiled at me, “He has a lot of pain killers in his system, so he has been in and out ofconsciousness, but he will heal.”
I nodded my head, Cyrus’s words bringing me a slight sense of comfort.
“Why are you here?” I asked him suddenly, looking away from Maeteo for the first time to look up at Cyrus’s face. His eyes were heavy with dark circles, and his hair was messed up as though he had been running his hands through it.
“Tarian and I have been taking it in turns to sit with him when Fionnuala has to sleep.” Cyrus smiled sheepishly, and my heart throbbed in my chest. I knew neither of them were the biggest fans of each other, but the way he looked so shy about keeping an eye on Maeteo… I could not help the small smile that came across my face.
“That’s nice of you,” I reached up, placing my hand on Cyrus’s cheek and rubbing my thumb along the skin under his eyes. He hummed low in his throat, and his eyes slipped closed. “You should go and rest.”
28
Kira
The door closed behind Cyrus with a soft click.
I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, chewing on my bottom lip as I let my eyes adjust to the now darker room. Only one candle was lit on the bed side table, but it was enough to be able to see the discarded clothes on the floor, and the boots that had been thrown haphazardly into the corner; It was enough for me to be able to see the shreds of Maeteo’s shirt, burned through and blackened by my outburst. I cringed away from the sight, turning my attention to where Maeteo lay on the bed.
He lay on his back, his head turned towards the window with a hand on his bandaged stomach. I swallowed harshly past the lump in my throat and tried with all of my might to steady my uneasy heartbeat.
The sounds of the castle outside of Maeteo’s room door were muffled by the thick wood, enoughso that I could barely hear people returning to their duties after dinner, and instead could only hear Maeteo’s sharp, uneven breathing coming from the bed. Pushing myself forward from where I stood, I picked my way across to his bed, careful to avoid the items scattered around the floor.
I had never seen him look so small. He had always been the most demanding presence in my life, but as he lay there now, he looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him over. Sweat was glistening on his forehead, and his lips were parted as he struggled with his breathing. Bandages covered his chest and stomach, wrapped tightly over both and wound up over both of his shoulders. If I stared at them long enough, I could see where blood had begun to seep through the fabric, and my stomach turned.
Ripping my eyes away from the bandages, I looked back to his face, my heart aching in my chest and fighting the growing feeling of nausea. Reaching forward, I tried to steady my shaking hands as I pushed Maeteo’s hair from his forehead. He had let it grow longer recently, but it made him look younger.
His eyes flickered at my touch, and he groaned as he shifted slightly on the bed. I pulled my hand away, anxiety controlling my body as I worried that I had hurt him again. His head turned to me, his eyes opening fully and blinking a few times as he took me in. I smiled lightly, but he did not return it straight away.
“Why are you staring at me, Princess?” His voice was barely above a whisper as his eyes slipped closed again,and relief flooded me at the subtle dig at me. It reminded me of a time not too long ago, when we were in the meadow, just the two of us.
I smiled at him, letting out a breath and relaxing instantly.
“I was just making sure you’re okay.” I replied, my voice was just as quiet as his. He smiled lightly, but his eyes stayed closed as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, the grunts and groans of pain making it hard to watch. I reached forward to help him, gingerly putting my hands on the back of his bandaged shoulders, careful not to disrupt any of the thick creams that covered the exposed skin of his arms and pulling him upwards slightly.
He grunted at me in thanks, resting his head against his headboard.
My eyes wandered the room, landing on a water jug and glass on top of the rolling trolley full of fresh bandages and creams. Rounding his bed, I grabbed the crystal glass, filling it to the halfway point and returning to Maeteo’s side. Clearing my throat to make him look at me, I held the glass out to him with one hand and let the other slip behind his neck, helping him lean forward enough for him to drink.
He gulped at the water greedily, and a second glass after the first was gone, and then let his head fall back against the headboard again, groaning.
“I don’t need you to help me,” He grumbled, and I rolledmy eyes at him, putting the empty glass onto his bedside table.
“Don’t be an ass, Maeteo.” I sighed, making my way onto his bed, and crossing my legs, sitting as close to him as I could without the risk of hurting him.
He watched me closely as I crossed my legs and let my hands fall into my lap. His skin was so pale that up close I could see the veins running under the skin of his cheekbones, but his eyes were as sharp as they had always been. The warm, welcoming brown of them missing nothing even now that he lay injured, clinging to consciousness.
He always managed to make me feel small just by looking at me.
I looked down, away from his face, to where my hands were curled in my lap. My skin was still marked with golden veins, though the pulsing had died down and the colour was not as bright. The eight-pointed star on my palm still shone enough to cast a light glow over the space around us.
Maeteo’s hand came up to rest on my knee, and I jumped at the sudden contact, lifting my eyes to meet his again.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice slightly louder now after he cleared his throat a few times. I stared at him, the absolute ridiculousness of his question settling in.
