Nevan's POV
My first instinct was to call for help. Her pulse was weak and her breathing was ragged, suggesting damage to the lungs. I flipped her onto her side to see if I have to snap the arrowhead off, but it turns out she already did that. She must have done it before she passed out. I put pressure onto the wound, letting the blood coat my shaking hands.
I can't do this. I'm not a medic.
I can't save her.
Turning to yell out to the guards behind the door, a mark on her wrist catches my attention. Her skin is surprisingly soft, almost as soft to that of a babies skin, and I turn her hand over. The black ink stands out in the dark, like a low light glow, and I can make out the shape of a bird.
No, not just any bird. The bird that symbolizes intelligence and spiritual power. The bird of the resistance.
The Raven of the Iete.
I don't notice I am stumbling backwards until I run into the doorway and grip it for dear life. She is real. She is real. Iete is a she.
The man was right, Iete is real and she is a she! Her blonde hair is tight in a ponytail, keeping it out of her face, and her hood that usually hides her identity, is flailing back beside her in the wind. She killed the sweaty man, she came all the way here and broke in the castle to kill a man that told her big secret.
The realization of the situation hit me so fast, the air was knocked out of me. I have a highly known assassin laying on my balcony, bleeding out from a arrow wound caused by one of my soilders. What am I going to do?
If I save her, she lives and will most likely kill me and get away. If I don't save her, she dies and I have that blood on my hands forever. If I turn her in, she will most likely die for her crimes at the stake. So, 2/3 options send her to her death and 1/3 ends in mine.
I take another look at her. Her shallow breathing is getting worse and a rasp follows her exhale. Blood is still leaking out of her, staining the wooden planks below us crimson.
That is going to be a pain to clean up, I think to myself, Along with the body if I decide to let her die.
Iete looks to be about 16, even younger than me. But that isn't possible, for her myth has been around as far back as our records say. However, the girl infront of me is 16, maybe even younger. You can tell by the lack of wrinkles and the smooth, baby skin that she bares.
So, are you going to save her or not? A voice speaks up in the back of my head.
If I'm going to make a decision, I have to make it now.
...
She weighs a lot less than I expected. For her strength and proportional display of muscle, I'd think she would be fairly heavy. But instead she is as light as a bale of hay. I debate on weither or not to lay her on my bed, but wheeze of her breath tells me I have to hurry. Her lifless body flops on the bed as I rush into the bathroom to grab supplies. I glance in the mirror on my way out and I am surprised to see my facial features calm and conceited.
The sight of her laying on the now blood covered bed sends a lump in my throat and I feeling that I can't quite pinpoint. I set the medical supplies down on the side table and turn back, ready to get to work.
My arms reach out to rip off her clothes without a second thought until she has nothing but her undergarments and pants on. I feel my face begin to flush as I look at her curves and I remember that I've never seen a girl naked before. Her body reminds me to that of a hourglass, perfectly portioned.
I push rags onto the wound and wrap it around the arrows entrance. The feathers tickle my fingers as I grip the end of it, positioning myself to pull it out quickly without nicking anything important. It was smart of her to snap the arrowhead off because if that was left in when it was to be pulled out, she would not survive. On the count of 3, I pull the arrow out, wincing at the sound.
"Gross." I mumble under my breath, discarding the blood covered item on the floor.
As I am lifting up the towel, about to start patching it up, I hear a gasp and then a painful whine. I look up to see Irae staring at me, anger and fear evident on her face. She swings her arms at my face, punching me and the nose and causing me to stumble back. Pain spreads through face and my hands go up to my bruised nose, "Ow! What was that?!"
I look up to where she was on the bed to see her gone. Rushing over to the other side of the bed, I find her crawling toward the balcony in a desperate erge to escape, "What are you doing?!"
She ignores me and tries to continue forward, hissing in pain everytime she moves. A trail of red follows her and I watch as she continues to struggle, "Are you done yet?"
"Shut up!" She growls, gripping onto the doorknob and tries to pull herself up.
Her cleavage shines in the setting sun, tracing out her ever curve. The lacy, black undergarmentand contrasts with the darkening sky. I don't realize I am staring until she shouts at me, "Sketch a picture, it will last longer."
"You won't make it more than a few minutes out there. They have guards placed at every exit-" I urge, trying to get her to stay.
"I can do it. I've done it many time before." She let's out a whine once she gets onto her feet, leaning against the glass doors.
"Have you ever been shot with a arrow and done it?" She doesn't answer, "It's not even fixed up all the way yet. The blood trail that you will leak will definitely lead them straight to you."
"I don't care. I've done things you can't even imagine Princy," She growls out, clenching her teeth together.
I roll my eyes and throw my hands up, "Why does everyone keep calling me that?!"
"I'm leaving," She ignores me, standing up straighter, "And there is nothing you can do to stop me."
Th minute she takes a step, her whole body shakes, leaving her crumpled on the ground. Iete's breath comes out in pants and I see her wince as she tries to stand up again, the look of determination on her face.
"That's it," I push forward, grabbing onto her arm and catching her other one as it comes flying my way, "You are going to kill yourself!"
She only gives a deep chuckle, reluctantly sitting back down on the bed. Everytime I try to touch her, she swats at them, letting out a sort of hiss, "If I can't touch you, how am I supposed to help?"
"I can fix up myself," She shoots me a look, holding out her hands. Her fingers wiggle, waiting for me to put something in them.
But I can be stubborn too.
"Tell me something Iete, you are the most wanted person in all of Koatia correct?" She nods slowly, curious to where this is leading, "Most of all, you are worth a lot to my father. If you don't want me to stitch you up, fine. The Royal Gaurd can stitch you up once I call out to them just beyond that door. Would you like that?"
Iete only glares at me behind stray, long blond hairs, matted with dried blood on the tips.
I let out a long sigh, "Okay then. GUARDS-"
"Okay! Okay!" She slaps her soft hand over my mouth, "Stop!"
I smirk underneath her palm, my lips leaving them moist and wet. Resisting the erge to lick her hand, I grab her wrist and pull her hand away, "That's what I thought."
She is still as I work, not butting in or saying anything. A perfect patient. Everything I thought she wouldn't be. She doesn't even react as the needle pierces her skin, stitching her up like a hole in a pair of trousers. The longer I look at her, the less I see the monster I was expecting. She looks just like a normal teenager, but with daggers hid everywhere and a mask.
Once I finish, she takes the tequila I used to disinfect the wound, and takes a big swig of it. She, once again, shows no reaction, not even a hiss. Though, her hand does shake as she sets the bottle down, reaching back up to her face to wipe off the tequila mustache.
"So..." I trail off, not really knowing what to expect as an anwser.
"Don't talk to me," She snaps back, taking another drink from the bottle.
"Why not?" I hear the liquid swish around in the bottle as she spins it around.
"You know why, your highness." Iete spits out the last two words like venom.
"And what exactly is that, Iete," I mimick her, turning away from the table and towards her with a smirk.
She crosses her arms, leaning back onto the mountain of pillows, "Where do you want me to start? At the part where you are a prince of a kingdom that hates me, or where I am an assassin who has killed many people in honor of a revolution against you?"
"I think somewhere in the middle would be fine, thank you."
She scoffs, rolling her eyes, "Why aren't you afraid of me?"
"Is their a reason I should be?"
Iete shoots me a baffled look, "I could slice your neck open in a matter of seconds with only a flick of my wrist."
"And you seem to forget I took all of your little gadgets," I hold up her corset that holds all of her daggers in small little pockets, "I do have to say, I am impressed with this corset. I've never seen anything like it."
"Why thank you. I took it off of a Noblemans wife after I slaughtered them both," She bats her eyelashes, eyes shinging with amusement as they look with mine, "You look a little green there, you okay?"
"Just fine." I swallow down the bial that threatens to come up.
"Yeah, you look like it."
I take a seat from the table, and turn it to face her, "Why did you kill that man?"
"Straight to the point I see," She let's out a huff, picking at her fingernails as if she were bored.
"Awnser the question."
"So demanding."
"Anwser the question."
"Okay, okay, calm down before you explode everywhere," Her blue eyes lock with mine, sending shivers down my back, "He almost outed me, as you know from your little meeting-"
"How did you know about the meeting?" I interrupt her.
"You can't keep anything from me, you know as they say, I blend with the shadows." She laughs.
"Good to know you are full of yourself."
"And you are not?" She shoots back.
I tilt my head, "Finish the story."
"Oh yeah, before I was so rudely interrupted," She tucks a piece of blood coated hair behind her ear, "I came to fix my mistake. As you know, Iete never leaves someone alive to tell the tale."
"That I do know," I nod, staring right back at her. She looks as if she were studying me like a textbook, looking for the answer to a problem, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You had a sister. Her name was Helen."
"What about her?" I ask, trying to hide my confusion.
"I remember her. She was 18 when the fires broke. And you were 14."
"Your point?" I lean on the edge of my chair, becoming impatient.
"Your brother, how old was he?"
"Why does it matter?!"
"How old was he?" Iete repeats, ignoring what I just said.
"17."
"Huh," Is all she says, processing the information. Whatever I just said clicked something in her mind, causing her to nod her head.
"Why was that so important?"
"Nothing," She shrugs, stretching her legs out and crossing her arms behind her neck. I can still see the gears turning behind her eyes.
"Tell me!"
She let's out a tired and annoyed sigh, acting as if I was a child who knew nothing, "Look, you wouldn't understand. Just run along to your guest room, and shut those pretty little eyes."
"I'm not some little 9 year old who can't understand a concept okay? I've sat through so many economic and political meetings, learning things that you wouldn't even understand!"
"Sounds like someone is a little grumpy today," She makes a pouty face, "Does someone want a little mommy's milk?"
"Shove off!" I grumble, "If anyone's a baby here it's you! I'm literally older than you!"
"Oh you win, you are 2 years older than me," She shrinks into the mattress, letting her eyes close, "Do you want a gold star?"
I stomp up to her, and rip out 3 of the pillows from underneath her, "The guest bedroom only has 2 pillows, and you don't deserve all of these anyway."
"Oh boo-who." She smirks as I stomp off, enjoying every minute of this.
"Make sure not to bleed out over night, I don't want to clean up a dead body tomorrow morning." I call out to her, before slamming the door shut and locking it behind me.