Hyacinthus

Behind your back, your hand clenched and unclenched. Your fingers were almost brushing the short knife in its sheath on your belt — the blade had to be sharp to cut the herbs and, when needed, cloth. But it was just one knife, and even if you could get close enough to that beast of a man… You doubted you could best him and manage what the bravest soldiers of your kingdom hadn’t achieved. And even if Commander Barnes did fall, another one of his White Wolves would simply take his place. That was how things were for those animals — they knew no sorrow, no grief, no love. Only battle and lust for flesh and blood.

As if sensing your gaze, Commander Barnes turned towards your direction. His blue eyes attempted to pierce through the grey, whisperlike fabric that fell over your face and shoulders, ending at the fullest point of your breasts. He stepped closer to you, the sound of the metal heels of his heavy boots echoing on the walls. This close, his towering form was even more intimidating — in all black, with a fur-trimmed cape on his shoulders, he looked every bit the soldier king that he was.

“Why do you hide yourself?” he asked, and you couldn’t decipher if the tone was one of genuine curiosity or one of mockery.

“I have taken an oath of healing, Commander Barnes,” you replied with a flat tone. “We may choose to cover our faces, so that those we aid may be saved from embarrassment.”

He let out a huff that sounded something akin to amusement. He was less than two feet away from you, forcing you to tilt your head upwards to see him. A despicable beast of a man, his body brimming with violence and his hands — gloved with black leather — reaching for the edge of your veil where it rested on the bodice of your dress.

A year ago, he would’ve been a dead man just for the attempt to touch your royal person. A year ago, if you had let him off only calling for his hands to be taken, not his life, it would’ve been considered mercy. A year ago, he never would’ve gotten this close to you before the tip of a blade would’ve been on his throat. But the men and women that had guarded you with their lives, surrounding you wherever you went, had fallen like many other brave soldiers. May the gods let their souls find peace.

But you were not dead yet.

The second his hands lifted your veil and his eyes were focused on your face, you went for it in one sharp motion. Your fingers, wrapping around the handle of your healer’s knife behind your back and then your arm flinging, the blade pointed directly towards his throat and —

his gloved fingers wrapping around your wrist.

His arm stopped your movement without as much of a flinch even though you’d thrown your entire weight behind the strike. He could’ve probably broken your arm like a twig with one twist of his, and yet he made no such move. Instead, his mirth-filled eyes held your gaze, and half a smile tugged up his mouth.

“You and I are going to have such fun together, moonbeam.”

Your blood turned cold in your veins.

Together?