[Chapter Twenty-One]

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"They will not force us,

They will stop degrading us,

They will not control us,

We will be victorious."

- "Uprising"


Carrying the jug of warm water, I rushed past a few servants doing the same. Reaching the small corner of the foyer I kneeled down to the injured man and cleaned off his bullet-wound with the warm water and bloodied cloth. He winced but remained still as I washed his dried blood away.

The war had no been going on for a few hours, leaving the servants and women of the town to attend to the injured army men in the manor. Luc and his father had done a well job at quickly keeping the children in the basement with a few guards and women who had newborns. All the others were to become the nurses and aids for any casualties.

Queen Victoria was observing over the women, every once in a while helping out.

Though I was solely focused on keeping the men alive, my eyes would dart around the entire foyer to see blond hair. The only sounds you could hear were grunts, shouts and gun shots. I had not seen Luc come in injured yet, but it was not like I was keeping my eyes to the door. I could have easily missed him limping in, or even worse, carried in other guards' arms.

After washing away the dried blood, I began to rip away at his shirt to pour some anti-bacteria in it. If that had not stung him then I knew to rub salt into the wound. But luckily, he could feel the insistent burn from the liquid. Wrapping gauze around his shoulder, I began to help him up and give him some clean water to drink them placed him on the stairs. All the men that had been attended to would lay upon the marble steps so we could get a good estimate of how many men had fallen on the battle grounds.

The next batch of men were barging through the double doors, quickly making their way to all the women with spaces in front of them. A new man was placed before me, his chest gushing blood. Quickly wiping that away, I took a look at the long gash placed upon him. Grabbing the needle and string, I began to stitch him up after pouring the anti-bacterial into the wound. He began to yell as the needle pierced his tender skin. Apologizing every time he yelled out, I swiftly pulled the string through then tightened it. After he was stitched up, he had passed out from the sensations and blood loss.

Lifting his head up I poured some water onto his face to let him re-gain consciousness. Once he began to blink I let him swallow down some fresh, cold water. Gently letting him support himself on my shoulder I led him to the stairs with his fellow men.

Walking back I made sure to not look at my bloodied hands.

Instead my eyes were trailing a man whom was being supported by two others, his blond hair filled with dirt and grime. His eyes were closed and his feet were being dragged against the marble flooring. Letting my feet take me to where he was placed I choked back a sob at the state he was in.

His shirt was shredded, but the bleeding was coming from his thigh. A long slice tore through his muscles, letting the blood soak through the pant fabric. The servant took a gasp, noticing whom she was attending before getting to work. The two men who carried him in left to go back into battle.

Dropping to my knees I let my hand trail down his cheek, my eyes filling with tears.

The servant had ignored my presence, tearing at his pants to give her plenty of access to his wound. She quickly rubbed salt into the cut, letting it absorb all the bacteria. Sewing up the gash she made sure to be gentle in case he could still feel around that area.

When she finished I told her I would take him to our bedroom, easily carrying his weight while I held him up. It took some effort to walk around the men laying on the stairs, even more so to drag him up them but as the bedroom door came into view I took heaping breaths of air. Laying him on our plush bed I watched Luc's chest slowly move up and down from his own ragged breathing pattern.

The fact that he was hurting and I couldn't do anything, killed me. I wanted to be able to soothe his pain and help him get through this -- like he would for me.

Every thought was focused on him and how he would be able to pull through this, he was a strong, brave man. He could easily run from groups of men chasing him, but couldn't defeat a few men coming at him with swords or guns. This was barely anything, a small wound to his thigh. He could handle it, he would even laugh at such a way to leave the battle.

It was not until King Richard wrapped his knuckles against our wooden door did I look away from a sleeping Luc. He walked into the room, hovering above his son whom lay on the bed, battered and bruised.

"How is he doing?" He asked, solemnly.

"He is resting, but he should be fine." I answered.

The king took a seat near the bed, staring intently at his only son. "I should apologize for my behavior towards you." He said softly, his arms crossed against his chest. "I never meant to speak down at you. I was only concerned about my son and I thought you had never actually loved him." trailing his eyes from his son to me, I could see the sincerity in the depths of his gaze. "I am so very sorry that I questioned your love for him."

I could feel the smile fill out on my face at his words. "Apology accepted."

And for once in the entire time I had been in this manor, I saw King Richard have a hint of a smile on his face. "Victoria tells me you're due in a couple months. Any idea what the sex of the child might be?"

"It is a boy." I said defiantly. "I can sense it."

"Good, we need a few more heirs to this throne." After dropping his intimidating stance, he sighed and got up. "I should probably help transport the injured into cars and send them off to hospitals. We claimed a victory after the others retreated, but I have the feeling that although we wont this battle somehow they wont accept the loss." Getting up out of the chair he began his trek to the door but before he led himself up he turned with a bright smile upon his face, "Oh, and congratulations on the engagement."

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