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Cassandra sat on the edge of the bed, absently stroking Drifter’s wiry hackles. The black wolf yawned, licking his muzzle.
Cassandra smiled as the wolf lay down, debating whether or not she should go over to the sofa, when Kyem shuddered, whimpering in his sleep.
Gently, she reached out, cupping his hot cheek in her hand. His eyes fluttered open, a look of helpless confusion in them, which then melted into utter relief.
“Were you having a nightmare?” Cassandra asked.
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse, and Cassandra grimaced.
“Aldir.” She called, and the guard opened the door immediately.
“My Lady?”
“Could you fetch me some water, please.”
“Of course, princess.” He said with a bow.
Kyem shuddered, nuzzling into her hand. His fever was still worryingly high, but Cassandra saw no need to tell him that.
She had no wish to distress him further.
Again, the thought of what her soldiers had done left her with a vicious flare of rage.
But she was true to her word. She wasn’t going to have them whipped.
But she was going to do something else.
Aldir returned moments later, Daren trailing behind him.
“I need to check the wounds, princess.”
Cassandra nodded, but Kyem shied back with a whimper.
“Sssshhhh, it’s alright.” She assured him, as Daren unwound the bandages, exposing his lacerated back.
He shuddered, sobbing quietly.
“Easy lad.” Daren said gently, as he prepared to rub a salve over the wounds. Kyem whined in pain and fear at the touch, and Cassandra gently took his hand.
He gripped back, as if she was his only lifeline.
She stayed like that for some time, even after Daren had rebandaged the Prince, and taken his leave.
Cassandra helped Kyem sit up, coaxing him into drinking the water Aldir had brought.
“I have a matter I need to see too. I’ll be back soon.” She assured Kyem, and strode out, leaving the two wolves to stay with the prince.
***
The scene that awaited her in the courtyard told her just how much harsher Morig would be on those who disobeyed.
Talir, one of the ones that, as Aldir had told her, had been gleeful in tormenting Kyem, was restrained by his wrists, his back covered in cuts and welts.
“What’s going on?” Cassandra asked calmly.
“Back talk, your grace.” Morig replied.
“I see.” With that, she strode up to Talir, walking around in front of him. His face was even paler than usual, and streaked with tears.
“It’s not enjoyable, is it, even when it isn’t a cat’o nine tails being used?” Her meaning was clearly not lost on him, and he averted his gaze in shame.
“N-no your Grace.” He managed.
“Your Grace?” Morig called.
“He’s had enough, general, you may stand down.”
“Yes, Princess.”
Cassandra untied Talir’s wrists. He seemed shaken, but he was able to stand. His wounds were mere scratches compared to Kyem’s.
“Get yourself looked at by a healer.”
“Thank you, your Grace.”
With that, Cassandra approached Morig, and then addressed the soldiers behind him, all of whom had been brought out to watch Talir’s punishment.
“I am sending you, with the exception of Talir, on a patrol of our entire region’s perimeter.” She said coolly.
“Aside from Morig, you will all be on foot.” Cassandra added, and the look of dismay on the faces of the soldiers was almost amusing.
“As none of you are injured, it should be no problem to keep up with a walking horse.” Cassandra snarled that part, and again saw varying looks of shame, dismay, and worry.
“You leave tomorrow, that is all.” She said stiffly, and turned on her heel, leaving them where they stood.
***
Kyem lifted his head as Cassandra returned.
“W-why are you helping me?” He asked weakly, terrified of the answer, but desperate as well.
“What else could I have done? Left you like that? Never.” She said, sitting on the bed next to him.
Timidly, he reached out, curling his fingers around hers.
“Please, stay.” He whispered.
Cassandra gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, and lay down beside him, her long chestnut hair spreading out on the pillow like a halo.
“Just rest, Kyem. I won’t leave you.” She murmured, wrapping her arms around him.
The light grey wolf jumped up onto the bed, curling up against his back. Yet instead of fear, her presence brought him comfort.
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Warnings: Fever, begging, panic, violent death threat, vengeful caretaker, mauled by dogs, whumper gets wrecked (No, this is not going to be a whumper turned whumpee thing, as much as I love the trope)
Daliara slowly pushed open the door to her daughter’s chambers, pausing midstep as she saw Cassandra lying on the bed, holding the shivering figure of Prince Kyem.
Worry briefly flickered through her body, but the Queen pushed it away. The Prince was in no condition to harm Cassandra in any way.
Daliara shook herself, pacing over to the bed as quietly as she could manage, looking down at her daugher, and the Tyrant King Ramse’s son.
Even asleep, the boy looked miserable. He whimpered softly, a shudder running through his body.
Again, the queen felt guilt knotting her stomach, guilt that she had denied the boy a proper medic for days.
“Is something wrong, Your Grace?” Cassandra asked quietly.
Daliara sighed. “And here I thought I could avoid disturbing you, though you always were a light sleeper, my darling.”
“What’s wrong?” Cassandra repeated.
“I should have listened to you, about him. But he tried to kill you, and I was blinded by resentment for him.”
Even as she said it, Prince Kyem stirred, his fever-glazed blue eyes fluttering open. As soon as his eyes settled on Daliara, he cowered back against the bed with a frightened sob.
This Prince had been known for his arrogance, his nastiness and mean-spirited pettiness.
Nothing like the broken mess curled up in her daughter’s bed, trembling all over, and crying in hitching sobs.
“Please.” He moaned weakly, and mother and daughter sighed in unison. Kyem shifted closer to Cassandra, whimpering pitifully.
“Please, I-I’m s-sorry, it’s not- I can’t-” He broke of with another sob, and buried his face against Cassandra’s shoulder.
Cassandra gently stroked his hair, murmuring reassurances as he cried.
Daliara shook herself out of her reverie. “You will both need to eat. I will have something brought up for you.” She said calmly, before she leaned in, pressing a kiss against her daughter’s hair.
_______________
Cassandra heard the door close, even as she did her best to soothe Kyem, who was still trembling and weeping in her arms.
“Sssssshhhh.” Cassandra murmured, as his shivering began to slow. “Ssssssshhhh, you’re alright. No one is going to hurt you.”
Kyem moaned something unintelligible, resting his head against her shoulders. He was still boiling from his fever, and clearly still terrified of more torture.
Just thinking it made her feel sick. Her men had tortured him. Aldir had told her the full story. About how he had collapsed and been dragged behind a horse for fucking miles. She’d not realized how long he’d been dragged. Then he’d told her how they’d tied him up outside in the rain, striking and taunting him when he begged for mercy.
Then he’d told her about how some of them had sat around and laughed as he cried out from his fever dreams, as he pleaded for someone to help him, to show him mercy.
Cassandra ground her teeth.
“Aldir!” Cassandra called.
“My lady?” The young soldier replied immediately, opening the door.
“Stay with Prince Kyem. I have something I need to attend to.” She said calmly, standing and heading towards the door.
***
She went down to the kennels first, fetching two of the wolves that she had reared from birth, the two most loyal, well trained, and, when she commanded it, the most vicious. Then, she went to soldiers barracks, specifically, the troop who had been with Soan and abusing Kyem.
They all leapt to their feet when they saw her, standing in the doorway. They must have seen something in her eyes, because for the first time, they all looked afraid of her.
Cassandra grit her teeth, rubbing Morningstar’s silvery-grey hackles, even as the jet black Drifter sat beside her. Then she spoke.
“I have heard talk of what you did to the Prince.” Cassandra said. She did not raise her voice. She did not need to. The barracks were so quiet that one could have heard a butterfly’s wingbeats.
“Do you need me to detail how furious I am, or shall we keep it brief?” There was no answer. Someone gulped.
“Let’s keep it brief then, I have no wish to waste anymore time than necessary on you.” Cassandra said coldly.
“You’re Grace-”
“Silence!” Cassandra barked, as Drifter surged to his feet with a vicious snarl.
Several of the soldiers flinched back at her shout.
When she spoke again, her tone was quieter, but sharp as the edge of a razor.
“I gave strict orders. You all disobeyed me. You all took part in something you knew I would have forbidden had I been there. I should have each and every one of you lashed fifty times for what you did to Kyem.” She said, almost able to taste the fear that hung heavy in the air.
“But as I dislike seeing others in pain, I will not.” Cassandra went on. “However, I have come here to warn you. Each and every one of you, that if you ever do something like this again, if you ever even disobey me again, I will hack you to pieces and feed you to the wolves.”
Both Morningstar and Drifter growled, lips pulled back and quivering over gleaming fangs.
“Morig.” Cassandra called.
“Your Highness.” The soldier replied, stepping into the room behind her.
“This is your new General. Soan, you’re relieved of command.”
“Your Grace-” Soan said, jumping to his feet, and taking a step towards her, reaching out to grab her. Cassandra did not reach for her sword. She did not need to. Both wolves leapt forward knocking the former General to his feet. Drifter sank his teeth into Soan’s arm, but Morningstar had him by the face, her pale grey snout already stained with blood.
Cassandra took a breath, exhaling slowly, before she clicked her tongue.
Both wolves returned to her side immediately, leaving Soan where he had been knocked to the floor.
“Take him to one of the healers.” Briefly, she considered denying him that, handing him over to an apprentice, but she would not sink to cruelty. “Then take him to the dungeon. Make sure he is seen to by a healer regularly, even though raising your hand to your princess can be punished by death.”
With that, she strode out, her wolves by her side.
***
She took them with her back to her rooms, they were her favorites, and she often kept them with her for companionship.
She sat next to Kyem, smiling gently as his eyes fluttered open.
“Morningstar, Drifter.” Cassandra called. “Come, this is Kyem. Kyem is a friend.”
Kyem watched the wolves approach fearfully, but Cassandra ran her fingers through his hair.
“It’s alright, they won’t harm you.”
The wolves sniffed his hand, one at a time, before loping over and laying by the fire.
“They have blood on their jaws.” Kyem mumbled, his blue eyes betraying his fear.
“They were protecting me.” Cassandra said softly. “And now they’ll be here to protect you too. They won’t hurt you, though Morningstar may fight you for the pillow.”
He looked uncertain, and Cassandra helped him sit up, letting him lean against her.
“You’re safe with me, Kyem, no one will ever touch you again. I’ve ensured it.” She promised, letting him fall back asleep, under the catch of his fever, while snuggled in her arms.
Cleaning out the deepest wounds was one of the worst experiences of Cassandra’s life. And they weren’t even her wounds.
They were her former rival’s.
“No! I-I can’t. Stop it, stop it please!” Kyem wailed, squirming weakly in her arms.
This is my fault. I should have been there to stop it. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt in the pit of her stomach.
“Cassandra, please.” He moaned. “Please make it stop, save me.”
“Kyem... that’s what we’re trying to do.”
He whimpered, and Cassandra blinked back tears.
“I’m going to have to scrub this one.” Daren said, his face a mask of pity. Cassandra’s stomach knotted in dread. ‘Scrubbing’ meant exactly what it sounded like, scouring out any residual dirt of infection in the lashes.
Cassandra had had to have that done once, when she’d caught her arm on a tree branch while riding. And that cut was nothing compared to the lashes on Kyem’s back.
__________
Kyem cried out as what felt like a sheet made of burning gravel scraped into his wounds.
“Please!” He wailed, gasping for breath between his sobs. “Please, don’t let him- I’m sorry- I’ll do anything- Cassandra please!”
“Kyem, it’s okay. He’s trying to help you.”
“Please.” He begged, exhausted and sick with pain and fever. “I-” He cut of with a screech as his back was scraped again.
“I know, I know sweetheart, it’s okay.” Cassandra murmured, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Kyem shuddered, breathing heavily.
“Sssssshhhh, sssssshhhh, it’s alright.” Cassandra murmured. “It’s almost over, I promise.”
Kyem sobbed, clinging to her words, to the hope that it would be over soon as the wound on his back was scrubbed a third time.
And then, just as she’d promised, it was over.
Kyem wept in relief as the man behind him began to gently wipe away the blood, and then, mercifully, began rebandaging him.
Cassandra murmured soothing words as he dropped his head to her shoulder with a moan.
______
Cassandra gently lowered Kyem back to the bed, but he clung to her with a pleading whimper.
“D-don’t leave me... Pl-please, don’t g-go.” He begged, his voice hoarse with pain. His chest shuddered with each uneven breath.
“Ssssshhhhh, I’m not going to leave you.” Cassandra told him, sitting on the bed next to him, and carding her fingers through his sweat-drenched hair.
The prince moaned, nuzzling into her touch, even as tears spilled down his flushed cheeks.
“Hush, it will be alright.” Cassandra murmured, cupping his cheek in her palm, wiping his tears with her thumb.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Cassandra lay down on the bed with him, smiling sadly as he snuggled himself harder into her arms.
"Sssssshhhhhh, just get some rest, Kyem. You’re safe. I won’t leave you, I promise."
She gently stroked his hair, until he drifted into sleep.
“I promise I won’t.” Cassandra murmured, even though she knew Kyem was already out cold.
The prince shuddered as Cassandra gently pulled the blankets up over him. She grit her teeth. Seeing Kyem in such a state of terror made her want to go and confront Soan again. Maybe hit him with a cat o’ nine tails and see how he liked it.
She shook her head, and crossed the room, sitting down in the chair by the hearth.
It didn’t take long before she fell asleep too.
_____________
She was woken by a hoarse cry of pain. Jolting to her feet, Cassandra stumbled, before she regained her balance, and rushed to Kyem’s side.
The Prince squirmed weakly in the tangled sheets, sobbing in pain.
The door flew open, and Aldir rushed in, his sword drawn. He immediately stood down as he saw what was happening.
Cassandra knelt on the bed, gently gathering the shaking mess into her arms. She looked over at her guard.
“Aldir, get Melle, and Daren, I need a fully trained healer right now.” She said, no longer caring about her mother’s compromise.
Kyem writhed in her arms, drenched in sweat, and clearly in agony.
“Kyem, can you hear me?”
The prince whimpered, his glazed eyes darting up to her face.
“Sssshhhh, ssssshhhh, I need you to lie still.” Cassandra murmured, cupping his cheek in her palm.
The prince was trembling in pain, but he stopped thrashing, though whether out of compliance or exhaustion, she didn’t know.
He flinched as the door opened.
“N-no.” He stammered, eyes wheeling in terror, before locking onto hers. “Cassandra, please. D-don’t let them- I can’t do this- please!”
“Kyem, hush. They are here to help you.”
“Your grace.” Daren said, standing next to her, and looking down at Kyem, who squirmed feebly under his gaze.
“I need you to help him.”
“Your mother said-”
“I’ll take the blame. I’ll tell her I forced you.” Cassandra said softly. “I’ll tell her I threatened you at sword-point, just please help him.”
Daren sighed, and gently turned the prince over onto his stomach. Kyem whimpered, squirming under the healer’s hands, as Melle went and helped hold him down.
“Please.” The prince begged weakly. “Please, no more.”
“Sssssssshhhhh, Kyem.” Cassandra murmured, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.
The prince yelped as Daren brushed his fingers over the shredded flesh on his back.
“I thought I was very clear, Cassandra, that you were not to call the healers away from our soldiers for an enemy.” Daliara’s tone was disappointed, but Cassandra felt nothing but anger as she faced her mother.
“You left me no choice, mother.” Cassandra hissed.
“You have Melle helping.”
“Equally unfair to her.” Cassandra said. “To put something like this on a healing apprentice.”
Daliara frowned, and strode over to the bed. Cassandra saw her mother's eyes soften as Kyem shuddered, burying his face into the pillows and weeping.
“How bad?” The Queen asked Daren.
“It’s bad, your Majesty. Several of the wounds are festering already, others showing signs that they are in the early stages of infection also.”
Regret flashed in the queen’s eyes.
“Could this have been prevented?” She asked finally.
“Not all of it, your Grace, but certainly the majority of the infection could have been stopped had I seen him sooner.”
Daliara closed her eyes. “Carry on, then.” She said finally, and strode out of the room.
___________
Kyem wailed as pain ignited in his back.
“No, no! I can’t do this- please stop, please!” He cried, as Cassandra knelt beside him.
She gently stroked his hair, and he saw the pained look on her lovely face.
“Help me, please.” He begged.
“We’re trying.” The Princess told him, gently taking his hand.
“It hurts.” Kyem moaned tiredly.
“I know.”
Cassandra pulled him upright, holding him against her as he cried.
“Sssshhhh, we’re going to fix this.” She promised, as he pressed his face against her neck, and waited for it to be over.
Kyem shivered in terror as he heard approaching footsteps. He ducked his head, pressing his face harder against Cassandra’s neck.
“Please.” He whimpered, not daring to look.
“Hush now, it’s alright.” Cassandra said gently, carding her fingers through his hair.
Something touched his back, and Kyem flinched away with a frightened mewl.
“Ssssshhhh. It’s alright.” Cassandra said gently.
Kyem sobbed as the bandages on his torso were cut away. He was crying again, but he couldn’t help it.
“He’s reopened three of the lashes.” Another voice, also female, said quietly. “I’ll have to clean them before I redress them.”
Cassandra said nothing, but Kyem felt her nod. He whimpered, flinching away as a hand touched his back.
“Hold still.” The other woman’s voice was soft, but this did not reassure Kyem.
A wet cloth touched his back, dabbing at his wounds. The Prince cried out as pain flared through the injuries, even worse than before.
“Stop, please!” He cried, trying to squirm away.
Cassandra held him against her, hushing him gently.
“It’s alright, Kyem. She’s trying to help you. I know it hurts, but I promise it will be over soon.”
“I-I can’t do this.” He whined. “Please. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Kyem, we have to clean them, they’ll get worse if we don’t.”
“I-I...” He trailed off with a sniffle.
_____________
Cassandra fought to keep her expression neutral as Kyem cried into her shoulder. Holding him like this... she could feel just how badly he was burning up with his fever. She was somewhat surprised, though relieved, that he was awake.
He yelped as Melle began cleaning the final wound that had broken open. It was one of the worst, badly infected, oozing pus and dark, viscous blood. It had a sickening smell to it as well, and Cassandra wrinkled her nose slightly.
After Melle finished wiping the pus out of the wound, she began to clean it with a herbal tincture.
Kyem jerked and cried out.
“Nonononononono, please!” He shrieked, his hands gripping Cassandra’s arms with bruising force.
Cassandra closed her eyes, trying to conceal the distress she felt at seeing how much he was suffering.
He continued pleading in a broken voice, shivering like a leaf in a storm.
Nothing like the arrogant man she’d faced in battle.
“No more. Please. Please! No more! I’m sorry!” He wailed, hiccuping sobs catching in his throat.
“Ssssssshhhh, ssssshhhh. Almost done.”
Kyem whimpered, the sound causing Cassandra’s heart to twist in pity.
It didn’t take much longer for Melle to finish cleaning his injuries, and begin re-wrapping his torso in fresh bandages, but during this time, Kyem’s begging devolved into exhausted, half-coherent mumbling. He was still crying, his tears hot from the fever.
“I’ll come back to check on him after supper, your Grace.” Melle said quietly, her eyes full of pity as she looked down at the fallen prince.
“Thank you, Melle.” Cassandra said softly.
The healer’s apprentice nodded, and took her leave.
“Cassandra...” Kyem’s voice was weak, hoarse from screaming. “I can’t- please, it hurts...”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Cassandra said gently, easing him back to the bed.
The Prince looked up at her with terrified blue eyes.
“Please... don’t hurt me...” He begged, as his eyes rolled up white.
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Cassandra had never used violence as a punishment with her men, but watching Kyem squirm under the sweat-soaked sheets had her seriously considering giving General Soan the same punishment. Ten lashes with a nine-strap whip, and then being dragged behind a horse for several miles.
See how highly he thought of the punishment then.
After she had gotten Kyem into the bed, she had gone to confront the General, and told him, on no uncertain terms, that if he ever repeated these actions it would be his execution.
As it was, she had refused to let him command any of the battalions alone, and had sent one of her most loyal guards to keep an eye on the General.
A soft groan brought Cassandra’s attention back to Kyem. The prince shuddered, tears streaking his face. His fever hadn’t shown any signs of coming down. In fact, if anything, it was getting worse.
Gently, Cassandra reached out, brushing the Prince’s sweaty hair back. He flinched slightly.
“I-I can’t do this... Please...” He moaned, glassy eyes fluttering open. Cassandra shook her head.
“Kyem, it’s alright now.” She said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
__________
Kyem shivered, nausea washing over him. His vision was blurred from heat, and he couldn’t quite take in his surroundings. But he could still make out the identity of the woman leaning over him. Princess Cassandra.
The Mistress of War reached out, her hand resting against his cheek, wonderfully cool against his overheated skin.
A fever dream. It had to be. Cassandra was his rival, his enemy. She would never be trying to comfort him like this.
But Kyem still tilted his head into her hand, desperate for the comfort, even if it was just a dream.
“D-didn’t think I’d d-dream of y-you.” He choked out.
“Ssssshhhhh. Just rest, Kyem.”
Kyem didn’t have much of a choice on that matter. Darkness was closing in on his vision, and he was too tired to fight it.
He closed his eyes, and let the darkness take him.
_________
Cassandra watched as Kyem slipped back into a fevered sleep, her stomach knotting at the way he’d looked at her. With a look of hopeless resignation.
He thought he was dreaming. She closed her eyes, sickened by what he’d been put through.
She stayed with him, stroking his hair, and doing her best to comfort him.
“How is he?” Her mother’s voice startled her, and Cassandra turned to face the queen.
“Not well.” She said, tone clipped. She was still angry at her mother for dismissing Kyem’s injuries.
“Has he woken up at all?”
“Once.”
“Lucid?”
“No.”
Daliara sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. Melle did say his wounds were festering quite badly.”
“A typical consequence of being dragged through the mud with open wounds.” Cassandra said stiffly.
____________
The Queen frowned, noticing the rigid position that her daughter held herself in. The anger in her icy blue eyes.
“If that’s all, your Grace.” Cassandra said coolly, her polite words by no means matching the venom they were said with.
“Cassandra, I understand that you’re angry, but our own soldiers need our medics, and I will not take any away from them for an enemy Prince.”
“That is your right, your Majesty. You are the Queen.”
“But?” Daliara asked, knowing that Cassandra would have more to say.
“But I would do things differently if I was the queen.”
“Cassandra...”
“Yes, your Grace?”
Daliara shook her head. “Forget it, daughter. I will see you later.”
She could feel Cassandra’s cold eyes watching her as she approached the doors.
____________
Kyem struggled against the restraints, crying out in panic.
“I don’t- no, I’m sorry! Please no!” He sobbed, trying to get away from the whip, desperate to escape the agony.
“Kyem.” A female voice called. “Wake up.”
Kyem whimpered, trying to turn away as the whip cracked.
“Kyem.” His surroundings were starting to fade, melting into something entirely different. Confused, he let out a distressed whine.
“Ssshhh.” The same voice said softly. “Ssssshhhh.”
“Cassandra?” Kyem croaked out in a gravelly voice. “What...?” He started to try and sit up, panic constricting his chest. He yelped as Cassandra caught his shoulders, pushing him back down.
“Don’t- please-”
“Ssssshhhh, sssssshhhh, lie still. You’ll break your wounds open again.”
“Where am I?” Kyem whimpered, too tired to resist.
“You’re in my rooms.”
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” He stuttered, his heart pounding.
Cassandra looked pained. “I brought you here to heal after what Soan did. Not to hurt you.”
Kyem shuddered, flinching away from her when she reached towards him.
“I never thought this would happen.” Cassandra said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Kyem just shook his head, tears spilling over his lashes. It didn’t make sense. His own subjects had been delighted to see him brought so low, why would his main enemy be so distressed about it.
It was another dream. It had to be.
Kyem struggled, trying to sit up, only for a sharp pain to erupt in his back. He slumped sideways with a hoarse cry of pain.
Cassandra caught him, calling out for her guards.
Kyem heard the door open, and shuddered.
“No, no please. No more! I can’t. I never- please, mercy.” He sobbed, burying his face in Cassandra’s shoulder.
“Get Melle.” Was all the Princess said, wrapping her arms around him as he cried.
Cassandra dropped into a crouch next to Kyem, who was shivering uncontrollably, and drenched from rain.
Gently, she reached out, brushing her gloved hand over his mutilated back. The Prince flinched back with quiet whimper.
“What have you done?” She snarled at Soan, voice tight with fury, as she wiped the blood on her breeches. A Princess wore skirts, a Mistress of War did not. And Cassandra preferred the freedom the latter’s attire granted her.
“We subdued him, Princess. It’s not-”
“Don’t patronize me.” Cassandra hissed. “This was not necessary.” With that, Cassandra unfastened her cloak, and laid it over the trembling Prince.
Soan’s eyes flashed with alarm, and Cassandra felt a small rush of satisfaction. But she wasn’t done.
“I gave you orders when we parted ways.” Cassandra growled, straightening up. “I was clear that you were not to pillage the city. Only capture it. I was clear that you were not to use undue brutality-”
“With due respect, Princess-”
“Do not speak until I tell you to.” Cassandra snapped. Again, she could tell that Soan was alarmed. Because she had never become this angry before.
“I gave you clear orders. You ignored them. You had better have a good reason.” Cassandra went on, glancing over at her mother, who was discussing the fall of the city with Soan’s second in command.
“Explain yourself, now. Or shall I simply tell her Majesty that you defied me?”
Soan’s face drained of color at the words.
“He threatened us, Princess.”
“I would have too, were I in his position. Tell me, was it a nine-strap that you used on him?”
“Yes, Princess.”
“How many lashes?” Cassandra asked, and Soan hesitated. “How many lashes?” She demanded again.
“Ten, your grace.”
“You whipped him ten times with a nine strap whip.” It was not a question, but Soan answered anyway.
“Yes.”
Cassandra grit her teeth, kneeling beside Kyem again. He was crying, she realized. Even unconscious, he was crying.
“You are dismissed.” Cassandra told Soan. “I’ll deal with you later. Leave us.”
As the General left, Cassandra heard her mother approaching.
“You seem troubled, child.”
“This was needless.” Cassandra sighed.
“Cassandra...”
“By your leave, your Majesty, I will take him to the healers.”
“You wish to save him?” Daliara was clearly surprised.
“Yes.”
“He was your greatest opponent, you trained harder than ever so you could kill him.”
“Killing him in battle would be different. This was plain cruelty.”
“I will not distract our best healer’s from our own men, daughter. If you wish to save him, you will do so yourself.”
“I don’t know how.”
“A healer’s apprentice will assist you.”
Cassandra ground her teeth. “Yes, your Majesty.” She said, bowing stiffly. For a moment, her mother looked hurt by the controlled formality. By the fact that Cassandra had called her ‘Majesty’ instead of ‘Mother’. But she was past caring at this point.
“Aldir, Balan.” She called, watching as the two young soldiers ran up to her. “Please help me bring him to my rooms.”
******
In the end, Cassandra and Aldir had held the Prince’s arms across their shoulders, and Balan had held his legs.
“Help me get him to the bed.”
“You’ll bloody your sheets, Princess.” Balan exclaimed.
“I don’t care, Balan.” Cassandra said, though not unkindly.
As they set Prince Kyem on the bed, the Princess turned to the two soldiers.
“Balan, please go inform the maidens that I need a bath drawn. Aldir, I need you to go and find me a healer’s apprentice. Whichever one is the most skilled.”
“Yes, princess.” The two guards said in unison.
*******
The healer’s apprentice was around Cassandra’s age, and according to Aldir, she was the best of the apprentices. Melle, she was called.
At Melle’s advice, Cassandra called for two tubs to be brought to her. One filled, one empty, along with several buckets of warm water. One to clean the dirt and blood off of him, the other properly bathe him and treat his wounds after.
Cassandra had, rather reluctantly, taken it upon herself to remove Prince Kyem’s ruined breeches, before she and Melle lifted him into the empty tub, and turned him onto his stomach.
Cassandra held the Prince’s upper body out of the water, while Melle poured the first bucket of warm water over his shredded back.
The Prince jerked, a thin, keening wail escaping his lips, even as his fingers curled into the fabric of Cassandra’s half-sleeves.
The water was red before it finished cascading off of his back. Kyem mumbled something, but the words were so slurred Cassandra couldn’t make out the meaning.
Melle emptied another bucket over him, and Cassandra began to help her sponge away the mess of sickness and blood on his back.
When that was finished, they took him to the already filled tub, and carefully lowered him into it, cleaning him fully of any residual dirt or fresh blood.
Now that his back was clean, Cassandra could see just how deep the injuries were, and how badly some were already festering.
Cassandra had sent Melle to retrieve a new pair of breeches for the Prince, while she dried him off.
She’d insisted on having him partially dressed, insisted on giving him some modesty.
Then, she held him up so Melle could treat him.
When the first cloth, soaked in a tincture of boiled herbs, touched the Prince’s back, he cried weakly, trying to squirm away.
Cassandra held him firmly, as Melle painstakingly began to clean each wound.
Kyem’s body shook with sobs, and Cassandra went about whispering reassurances.
He nuzzled his face into her shoulder with a moan.
After Melle finished cleaning the wounds, she rubbed a salve over his back, and then bandaged him, before leaving Cassandra alone with the Prince.
During the time when she was doing her best to assist Melle, the soiled sheets on her bed had been stripped, and clean ones put in place. Though she wouldn’t be the one using the bed tonight.
She eventually managed to get Kyem into the bed on her own, and tucked the blankets and furs around him.
His shivering had slowed, but his breathing was still uneven, and he was clearly still in pain.
Cassandra carefully pressed her hand to his scalding forehead, wincing at the heat even as the Prince weakly turned his head away with a soft groan of protest.
He was too out of it to even speak.
Cassandra closed her eyes, wishing she could undo it all.
Prince Kyem paced around his study, fuming to himself. He had made it through that battle utterly unscathed right up until Cassandra had knocked him from his horse.
Princess Cassandra. Queen Daliara’s heir to the Throne, and her Mistress of War.
A complete and utter bitch, in Kyem’s opinion. So defiant, unwilling to yield to him. And now she had attacked him outright, one on one. Fighting his soldiers was one thing, but
The shouts caught his attention, and he rushed to the window. Horror and fury mingled inside of him as he saw that the castle gate had been breached. Unsheathing his sword, the Prince barked a command to the guards outside his door, and storming out to face the intruders.
____
Cassandra patted her horse’s neck as she arrived back at her mother’s castle. She was exhausted from battle, and sorely in need of a bath.
The Queen was waiting for her.
“Mother.” Cassandra said, kneeling. “We have taken the Eastern region.”
“You make me so proud, daughter.” Her mother’s voice was cool, but her eyes held affection.
“Any news on the battalion you sent to lay siege to the castle?”
“None yet.”
“I should be there with them.”
“Nonsense. You have done your part.”
Cassandra shook her head with a sigh.
“No more argument, my dear. Go clean yourself up, and rest.”
“I don’t have time to rest.”
“Cassandra.” Daliara’s voice was stern. “You push yourself too hard.” She smiled softly. “Rest. If Karna hasn’t fallen by tomorrow, I will send you with reinforcements.”
“Yes, mother.”
_______
Kyem spluttered in rage as the two soldiers dragged him towards a stocky, older man with large scars on the side of his head.
“Send a raven to the queen.” The man was saying. “Tell her that the city is hers.”
The soldiers hauled him forward. “Get your filthy hands off me!” He snarled. “You have no idea how much you’re going to regret this.”
“He really thinks he’s still in charge.” One of the soldiers laughed, as they shoved him to his knees.
“I will have you whipped until I can see bone! Unhand me this instant!”
The older man’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really believe that you are in any position to be making demands, your highness?” He sneered.
Kyem glared at him.
“I think it’s about time to teach him a lesson.” The soldier to his right said, smirking slightly.
Before Kyem could ask what he meant, the same soldier ripped his shirt open, and hauled him to his feet.
Kyem snarled furiously, trying to wrench himself free, spitting threats and demanding his release.
His voice died in his throat as the two soldiers wrestled him over to a whipping pole. The older of the two guards grinned viciously, tying Kyem's wrists with the leather straps.
He thrashed, noting, from the corner of his eye, how his own subjects watched.
He was so distracted by this that at first, he didn’t notice the nine-strap whip in the commander’s hand.
The impact took his breath, even as he opened his mouth in a silent scream.
It hurt more than he could have ever imagined.
It struck him again, ripping into his flesh as if it was butter.
By the third blow the world became nothing but pain and noise.
On the fourth, he began to scream.
By the 5th, he wondered if anything remained of his back.
It went on for five more strikes, by which time, Kyem could barely hold consciousness.
Dazed with pain, he didn't even realize that he was crying.
Breathing heavily from where he was slumped against the pole, Kyem could hear the cheers, the clapping, and that caused his stomach to knot in dread.
His own subjects were content to cheer while he was flogged. How could he ever expect to rule now?
The bonds were released, and he toppled sideways, unable to help but cry out as his shredded back collided with the hard armor of one of the soldiers.
"Already? Thought he’d be tougher then that." Someone snorted.
An armored hand gripped his upper arm painfully, dragging him away from the pole. Kyem stumbled, vision blurring from tears.
"What was it you were saying before, your highness?"
With that, he was shoved to his knees, while a second guard tied his wrists with a coarse rope.
"Get ready to walk, Prince." The commander sneered.
It was only then that Kyem realized he'd been tied to a horse's saddle.
He was about to protest, when the rider urged his mount forward.
Kyem stumbled, his back ablaze with pain.
They hadn't even made it a mile when he collapsed.
Yet no one stopped. For miles, he was simply dragged.
******
It was hours later that they stopped to make camp.
Kyem was barely conscious at all now, only half aware of what was going on, though the cold rain against his bare skin was beginning to rouse him slightly.
The soldiers were setting up tents, preparing to settle in for the night.
Hands grabbed his arms, hauling him up roughly. The prince gasped in pain as his torn back was scraped along the ground once again.
His vision swam, and when it cleared again, he was propped against a tree, and the soldier was tying ropes around him.
After a moment, Kyem realized that they were going to leave him outside.
“Wait.” He groaned. “Wait... you can’t...”
“I would have thought the whipping would have shown you who’s in charge now.” The soldier growled. “Unless you want another round?”
“N-no... No please...”
“He’s begging already.” Someone laughed.
“Bet that never stopped you, did it, your highness?” Another soldier mocked. “When our comrades begged you to stop, you never did, did you?”
“I-I’m sorry-” He was cut off by a punch to his stomach.
“Too late for that now, Prince.”
“Please! I never-” The same soldier slapped him across the face.
“Shut up.”
Kyem shuddered, tears streaking his face as he was left alone.
**********
Aldir cut the ropes restraining the prince, watching as he slumped forward with a faint whimper.
He was drenched from the heavy rain last night, and was now shaking uncontrollably in the mud.
Aldir swallowed, and started to pull the prince to his feet. He disliked what the others had done, but was too scared to speak up.
As General Soan approached, Aldir stood straight, supporting Prince Kyem’s dead weight as best he could.
Soan grabbed the unconcious prince under the jaw, slapping his face lightly to see if he would wake up. Aldir scowled under his helmet.
You would not dare behave this way if Princess Cassandra was here. He thought angrily.
“Tie him behind my horse.”
“He’s not even conscious. How is he supposed to walk?”
“He’s not. I’ll drag him.”
“The ground is too uneven, sir.”
Soan ground his teeth, before nodding. “Very well, tie him over a saddle.”
“Yes, general.”
*********
Cassandra stood next to her mother in the courtyard, watching the soldiers return.
As General Soan approached, leading a horse towards them, Cassandra narrowed her eyes.
She had never liked Soan.
“Your Majesty, Princess.” He said, dipping his head to Cassandra. “Karna is yours.” With that, he drew his dagger, and cut the figure slung over the horse’s back down. The man fell to the ground with a thud, and Cassandra went rigid in shock.
Sprawled out on the cobblestones before her, his back a red ruin, was Prince Kyem.
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