A Royal's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5 - "I can't lose you!"

"Where are the clothes?" she asked.

Despite everything, Wilder felt a bit of hope that he hadn't lost her completely. When he handed Lydia the bundled garments, she paused, thinking.

"Do you have bandages in your pack?" she asked.

Without asking why, Wilder handed them over. Lydia looked around but stopped when nothing near them offered concealment without putting her in the unknown jungle. She cleared her throat, cheeks turning pink.

"Please turn around," she said.

Wilder started, embarrassment burning his face as he put his back to her, his bow in hand. The jungle bubbled with life, the music of it filling Wilder's ears and he concentrated on it, letting it be the only thing he thought about. Not about what Lydia was doing behind him. He could not think of that. He gripped his bow tighter, grappling his thoughts into submission.

When Lydia tapped him on the shoulder, he let out a relieved breath. Being a head shorter than him made the pants too long but she'd used his extra belt to keep them up and cuffed the ends. The shirt drowned her but she rolled up the sleeves so she had access to her hands.

Wilder paused in his assessment of her, noticing she no longer had curves. Before he could ask, understanding what she needed the bandages for hit him. He cleared his throat, struggling to focus his thoughts again.

"We're going to have to cut your hair," he said.

Lydia swept her ebony hair over her shoulder, trailing her fingers through the thickness before nodding. Taking out his knife, Wilder tied her hair into a tail and took the whole of it in his fist.

For a moment, he couldn't bring himself to do it. How many times had he wanted to run his hands through her hair? Watched her toss her head back, letting the wind blow it wild?

Steeling himself, he cut through it, the strands going limp in his hand. When he pulled back, Lydia touched the blunt ends but said nothing. In comparison to all she'd already lost, this held little weight. Neither of them said anything, neither of them wanted to talk about how vastly different their lives had become in less than a day. Wilder set her hair on top of her dress.

"There's a spring past the ruins," he said. "We can refill the water skin and wash up a little."

Lydia gazed out over the ruins and the jungle beyond. "How far off?"

Wilder pointed through a flacking archway. "Only a short walk past there."

Lydia nodded, but when Wilder grabbed the water skin and took a step, she didn't move.

"I want to stay here," she said.

"Ly, you can't it's not-"

"Wilder. Please."

At the pleading note in her voice, he took in her knotted fingers and misty eyes.

"You'll only be gone a moment," she said. "That's all I'm asking for."

Still, Wilder couldn't move. How could he leave her here alone, exposed?

"I could command you to leave," she said, a bit of her old spirit returning.

"You could but I'm not likely to obey."

She touched his arm. "I need a moment."

Reluctantly, Wilder gave in. Unstrapping his dagger from around his waist, he held it out to her.

"You remember what my father taught you, don't you?"

Lydia didn't respond as she stared at the knife and looked like she might throw up.