41 - Lucius' Feelings

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The following morning, I woke up to a particular summer day. My eyes blinked open and I winced as they adjusted to the sunlight. In my foggy mind, I managed to twist my head to the other direction to check the time.

...3:00 a.m. I rubbed my eyes and groaned. Are you serious?

I slept early yesterday because I was tired, but that didn't mean I wanted to be woken up seven hours earlier than usual during vacation. I sighed and eventually relented, rolling myself off the bed and crawling my way to the closet with the blanket coiled around my body like a heavy net.

I slipped on a pair of pants and a large silk shirt. It draped on my shoulders freely, but still felt restrictive enough for me to die a little on the inside. I pulled on the delicate fabric in irrational frustration. I hate clothes...

Just as I was about to burn off the clothes on my body in bitterness, I heard a small wooden creak from outside the room.

My eyes shot to the side as I tensed. Perhaps it was because of the assassination, but I was particularly demanding when it came to noises outside. Guards were never supposed to be stationed near my door, but rather on the opposite side of the hallway where I couldn't hear them, or else I would never be able to sleep.

I gritted my teeth and held my breath, taking light, muted steps to the front door. I gulped and siphoned a small, blazing dagger in my hand, then, as soon as I reached the entranceway, I thrusted the dagger into the thick wooden door, causing it to splinter and explode. Shards of wood scattered, sharp and searing, instantly illuminating the hallway. With the dagger still in hand, I swung it blindly downward. Yet, before I could finish, a firm hand clamped around my wrist, stopping my shaking arm.

"Ah..." I froze and blinked. Why does that hand look so familiar?

At this point, I was completely awake. I realized that I was staying inside a suite next to a royal's sleeping quarters, and that there was a very low chance that an assassin would be able to even come close. I immediately paled and slowly turned my head up to meet the gaze of the man.

Oh, shit. My face lost all color as soon as I caught a glimpse of the familiar striking blonde hair. Did I just try to kill a prince?

----

Lucius stood at the edge of my bed, his eyes fixed on me with a blank, unreadable gaze. I pushed him down onto the mattress and forced him to lie down, pulling up the sleeves of his singed pants. Small cuts covered his ankles and calf. The contrast between his fair, unsullied skin and the blood dripping down from the wounds made me shiver.

Thank god there weren't any guards there... or else I'll be accused of treason... I winced and intensified my diligent tending to his wounds. But, come to think of it... I didn't know why all the guards were dismissed from the hall. I knitted my brows and stared intensely at the small cut while applying medicine. I didn't know why the prince was standing by my door at 3:00 a.m. in the morning. I want to ask, but I feel like I shouldn't do it now... I bit my lip and frowned.

Meanwhile, the prince, who was domineeringly pushed down onto the bed, began to blush as I tightened my grip on his ankle. His eyes lowered, intently staring at the kneeling figure beneath him with a mixture of inexplicable confusion and flusteredness. I didn't notice his strange gaze, too busy trying to assuage fears of being hung for treason.

After a few minutes of intolerable silence, I finished applying the ointment and carefully rolled down his pant sleeve, afraid to hurt him further. I exhaled shakily and stood, my knees slightly shaking. "...Your highness, my deepest apologies. Please, I have committed a grave crime. I am willing to accept any punishment."

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