Stain of Red || The Darkling

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈.

Irina forced herself to open her eyes even when everything had begun to hurt. She blinked slowly, her vision clearing as she saw the face of the man she cared for greatly. 

Aleksander was looking down at her, his quartz eyes looking so beautiful as they glazed over like moonstone in water. 

"Healers are coming." Prince Antero's voice rang out yet it all didn't matter to her. 

She could only see Aleksander. 

His fingers reached out to wipe the blood from her nose and her mouth, despite them continuing to flow freely. His hand came away with red. She could feel him begin to shake, his form unsteady. 

"Don't. You're not allowed to die." Aleksander whispered, his tone desperate. He sounded more like a boy at that moment, threatened by the mere thought of death. Not his, but the death of the most important person to him.

Irina would have let out a small laugh if she could but she was only able to cough out more blood. Her eyes flickered close for a moment. She willed her hand to clutch onto the black cloak she had commissioned for him. 

She needed to hold him. She couldn't leave this world alone. 

"C-could've loved y-you." Irina whispered, her eyes beginning to close. This time, they would not be able to open. 

The last sight she saw was the surprised look in Aleksander's eyes as if he could not believe that what she said was truly possible. 

It was true. 

If they had time, she could have loved him. She might've already begun to fall. 

//

Aleksander had years to familiarize himself with grief. With Death. 

By the number of times he had watched death take everything from him, he should have already been used to it. Friends, comrades, family. 

He had begun to accept that he was meant to be alone. To save Ravka. Alone. 

As if fate had wanted to toy with him, they gave him the one person he would care for the most. The one person he was supposed to be using. A Lantsov. Someone he was supposed to despise with every fiber of his being. 

Fate made him fall and fall hard he did. And now, death was about to take her from him. 

Aleksander could still feel her blood on his hands, the red liquid had already dried, sticking to his fingers. He could still see her. He could still hear her. 

She could have loved him. She could have. 

Would she even get the chance now? Should he even give her that chance? All the people who get too close to him die. She shouldn't have had to die. Was it his fault? 

He would find whoever dared to do this. He would make sure whoever thought of doing this to her would die a painful death. Whoever did this would regret everything. Aleksander would make sure of it.

He sat outside of the medical wing, burying his head in his hands. The lion cub by his feet whining, as if sensing his pain and the circumstances of the princess. 

He reached out to scratch the fur of the cub, taking comfort from the small animal. 

The ball had been dispersed much to the dismay of a certain Ravkan prince, but everyone had agreed that there was no room for celebration once the sole princess of Ravka was poisoned.