BTS: A Court of Embers

21: An Assassin's Lament

About five pairs of eyes were on her, all of them in grey robes and waiting for her command. Though her mouth was dry, she tried to sound as brave as she could. "I need soap, hot water, and bandages, please."

They went on their way. In a matter of minutes, she'd sat alone next to Jin's chair with a bucket of water, a towel, and the right wraps.

She wet the towel and went to wipe him down when she paused. He was still wearing his blouse, which had been soaked through with rich crimson. Gently,  she dropped the towel and stood before him.

He was peaceful when he slept. His black hair looked soft to touch, but it held the fire's light. His chest rose and fell slowly.

She wished he was awake for this, but she reminded herself that he needed it. That she had no other choice. Steeling her shaking hands with a deep breath, she went to unbutton his shirt.

His hand snatched her wrist, eyes darker than ink as they burst open. He blinked at her and scanned the room. At last, he scowled. "Why am I here?"

Maren tried to pull away but he held fast. "You don't remember?"

"I know very well what happened. Why you continue to appear is still a mystery." He moved her hands closer to her chest and let her go. "Trying to undress me is a little uncouth, don't you think?"

She blushed furiously through her grimace. "You're injured."

"It's just a scratch," he said, rolling his eyes. "If you could get out of my way, that'd be helpful." He moved to push up from his chair, wincing at the use of his shoulder. He was halfway up when his arm gave out. His weight plopped back onto the cushion.

"Stay seated," Maren ordered, bending to get the towel.

"Stay out of my business."

She glared from the bucket. "If your business hadn't become my business, then I would gladly listen."

He craned his neck back. "Who wandered onto a battlefield?"

"It wasn't my choice," she muttered, wringing the towel.

His brows knit together in concern. Despite his icy demeanor, his tone was controlled. Neutral. "What do you mean?"

"Penelope appeared in my room. She asked me to play a game. I followed her mindlessly."

He made a hmph sound. "Your human friend?"

Friend. Not mistress. It stumped the girl for a second. "Yes. Her."

He said nothing as she stood and pointed at his shirt. "Take it off."

"No. I need to leave." He shifted in his seat so he could try and stand again.

She crossed her arms. "And do what? You're tired."

That neutrality iced over. "I am going to fight, Maren." He gripped both armrests, his arm already shaking.

"You can't. Emberlynn told me to watch over you," Maren warned.

"You watching over me?" He tilted his head defiantly. "Interesting choice," he scoffed.

"You watched over me," she said. "You saved my life. Again. Let me help."

"As I said. Move." He nearly stood to his full height, but shrieked as he tried to stand straight. One hand rushed to his chest, but he winced again, ripping it away. Meanwhile, Maren had not budged. She held his gaze as he slowly retreated back into the chair.

"Are you done?" she asked.

He gave her a dangerous leer.

She shrugged. "Are you ready for help? Because I can always go back to my room and let you bleed."