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"How did you get this injury?" I ask as I stitch his shoulder.

"Some bastard from the resistance luckily landed a clean shot when I was distracted for half a second," he explains.

It's so strange how he doesn't even flinch as I stitch him. I know I would've been screaming and yelling.

"It seems you don't feel pain," I say, still concentrating on my stitches.

"I have received so much that I guess I'm immune"

My heart drops when he says this. That's when I get a clear look at him, his back has...scars.I don't know much about his past but I know it was filled with fear. He looks up at me when he notices my hand stopped moving on his wound.

"Saya" he calls, pulling me out of my thoughts. I shake my head and apologize, giving him a warm smile. I finish up the stitch and then wipe the skin with a damp cloth, then dab it with a dry one and apply the balm. I then take the white bandage and wrap it around his shoulder, holding it in place with a short stitch. "It'll have to be cleaned every night to make sure it doesn't get infected. Then after a week, the stitches will be taken out to see if it's healed properly. If stitches are needed again, then it can't be helped," I explain as I wash my hand in a bowl and pour the water into the bucket. After drying my hands with a cloth, I arrange the tray.

"You're not going for the celebration?"

"Are we allowed to go?" I ask looking at him. He nods.

"...I'll sit this one out. Celebrations haven't really been my thing," I say as I reach for the tray and the bucket.

"Stay with me," he says, his hand holding mine. I look at him but I'm fighting this inner battle with myself. Will he get angry if I say no? Should I just-

"It's an order"

He is a king, how in the world did I ever think I had a choice?

"It can't be helped" I say as I let go of the bucket and climb into bed with him. He pulls me close to him so that my back is against his chest, his hand tight, around my waist. He kisses my shoulder, and then my cheek. I close my eyes, when he does this, really liking it when he kisses my skin.

"Why are you in your study every morning?" I ask out of curiosity.

"I have meetings with my advisors there in the morning. You either come in too early or too late so you always miss them"

"Oh..." I turn my body to face him, his eyes looking into mine. I could stare at him all day, but not when he's staring back! I look away and focus on something else.

"How did you find out about my injury?"

"I saw it when I carried you here"

"No, I mean how did you know it was Oma?"

"There are eyes that hunger for gold everywhere"

"What does that mean?" I ask looking back at him

"There are people who will tell you the truth for the right price"

"Why go straight to Oma's maids?"

"I didn't..."

"So then-"

"You ask too many questions. You weren't a talker when you first got here"

I bite my lip a little embarrassed when he says this.

"I only ask when I want to know. You also told me that I should always reply when you talk to me, plus I made a friend"

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me. "You stare too much" I murmur to myself.

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