Prince Ciaran carried Amaya's dagger with him at all times. That was actually the real reason why her escape was delayed. She knew the way out of the palace long ago. She knew how to get lost despite being followed by the royal guard. But she refused to leave without her dagger. She needed it. Her life depended on it.
Amaya watched the prince. She secretly watched through the secret door where he put it at night before going to sleep.
Already in the monastery, the prince realized that there was something strange about that dagger. A very special energy radiated from it. He noticed how Amaya longed for it, how she couldn't give it up. It was a predatory addiction that says she would kill for that one thing.
He noticed how her eyes fell on that dagger every time they were together. She tried to be inconspicuous, but he noticed.
And that's why he always held it close to his body.
Because she wanted it.
Night fell on the land. The thick darkness was broken only by the flames of candles in the corridors and fires in the gardens. Silence reigned over the land, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the whisper of the wind. The whole palace was already asleep. Besides her. Amaya got dressed and packed everything she would need for the escape in her bag. She didn't know her exact goal yet. The guards were nowhere in sight. She was sure. She double-checked. It was time to go.
But she was missing one single thing that she couldn't leave without.
Slowly, hesitantly, she opened the secret door between her chambers and Prince Ciaran's. It was dark there. She walked blindly. The walls were close together. She held on to them. She ran her palm over the stone, felt its texture under her fingers. She kept close to the wall and walked forward.
She hit the other door. The door behind which the prince's bedroom was hidden. She hesitated for a moment. She listened to the sound behind the door. She didn't hear anything. She felt the doorknob. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She repeated it. And one more time. She carefully opened the door. They creaked softly. She cursed the sound. She stopped. She stood without movement like a statue. Fortunately, the sound didn't wake the prince, so she entered his room.
The room was shrouded in a veil of darkness. The sparkling light of the moon came in through the windows. She weighed every step. She stepped carefully. She approached the prince's bed. Looked at him as he slept. Strands of black hair fell into his eyes. Sweat glistened on his body. He had such a calm expression on his face. He dreamed sweet dreams.
Ciaran had her dagger under his pillow. He held it so close to his body so that it would be impossible for her to retrieve it. Pulling her out from under his head will be impossible.
Amaya had to try all the luck she had left in her life. She gently went under the pillow with her fingers. She went deeper and deeper with her palm. She tried to jam her hand into the mattress so he wouldn't feel it. She was constantly watching the prince. She kept her eyes on him. He shook himself. Amaya stopped. She prayed to the gods that he wouldn't wake up. A low moan escaped his lips. Amaya laughed involuntarily. She wondered what he might be dreaming about. He turned on his other side. Showed her his back.
She managed to feel her dagger. She felt its familiar shape. Carved handle with case. She felt the familiarity of the cold metal. Energy surged through her veins. They belonged together. She and that dagger were as one. That dagger was a part of her and now she could hold it in her hands again.
She carefully pulled it out from under the pillow. It was finally hers again. The prince did not wake up. He continued to sleep peacefully. Luck was on her side.
She returned to her rooms. Her heart beat wildly with happiness. She reached for her bag, but someone grabbed her hand and pulled it away. She fought, but he was stronger in hand-to-hand combat. She didn't expect it. The prince pushed her against the wall. He pulled the hair stick out of her hair. Her hair fell loosely to her shoulders. He held her own weapon to her neck.
"Going somewhere, little goddess?"
"It's none of your business, little prince," she gave him a murderous look.
"I'm afraid you're not going anywhere," Ciaran told her.
Amaya laughed lightly to herself. "You really think that just because I have my own hair stick on my neck?" she took a step towards him.
Ciaran immediately pinned her back against the wall. Amaya smirked. There was strength in him, but he was insecure. She felt hesitation in his grip.
"Do you think I won't hurt you if I have to?" he answered her question.
"You won't hurt me because you need me," Amaya said.
"I won't kill you because I need you but I can hurt you though," Ciaran reurned her wicked smile.
"In that case, I'm afraid we've reached an impasse, Your Highness," Amaya said.
She ran her finger gently over his chest. She wandered down it lower and lower. The prince's eyes followed her. His eyes fell on her dagger. She pointed it at his nether parts. He looked back at her. A mischievous smile graced her lips.
Amaya gave him a daring look. "Who do you think will fare worse?" she told him.
Amaya cut the prince on the inner thigh. It wasn't a deep wound that would kill him, but it was deep enough for him to remember not to go near her ever again. The prince pulled away sharply. He grunted in pain. He accidentally cut Amaya on the neck with a rapid movement. She caught a wound. She felt blood on her hand. She looked at the prince and kicked him to the ground. He hit the floor hard with a thud. He remained lying down. He looked at her. He fixed his bewitching gaze on her.
Now she could run away. If she wanted to escape, she had to be fast. Her eyes wandered from the door to the prince. For some strange reason, she hesitated. Her eyes fell on the prince's wound and the pool of blood forming on the floor. Apparently, the wound was deeper than she thought. She cut deeper than she wanted.
And so she did a stupid thing that she blamed herself for, but she did it anyway.
She suppressed the voice in her head that told her to run and get out of her prison and went help the prince.
"I'll call the doctor. It's deep." Amaya said walking towards the door.
"Wait!" the prince stopped her.
"I won't run away," she assured him.
"We're being followed, have you forgotten?" Ciaran told her. "If word gets to my father that you tried to kill me, things won't go well for you."
"I didn't try to kill you," she countered his accusation.
"The King's guard isn't exactly in love with you, so you think they won't lie?"
Amaya let out an annoyed sigh. She knelt down to the prince. Ciaran pushed her hair back from her neck. He examined the place where the wound should have been. He saw blood there, but there was not even a scratch. He looked at her in confusion.
"I'm sure you..." he was at a loss for words.
"Maybe you're wrong," Amaya told him.
"No, I cut you." he was sure.
"You can't hurt me. No one can." Amaya replied.
She looked at his wound. It was deep. He was bleeding a lot. It will need stitching. She applied pressure to his wound to stop the bleeding. Blood seeped between her fingers. At least she slowed it down. The prince was still talking and she couldn't focus on either of them.
"But I hurt you in the convent," Ciaran reminded her.
"You hurt me with my dagger," she remarked.
"So that's why you want it back so badly. It's the only thing that can kill you," he realized. "That's why you're so reckless to death. You know you won't die."
"It wasn't always like that," she said.
Ciaran looked for an explanation, but Amaya wouldn't give him one. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone.
"It's a long story," she told him. "Now I have to stitch up the wound or you bleed to death. I'm one hundred percent sure there was a needle and thread somewhere."
She stood up and looked for what she needed. She rummaged through all the drawers until she finally found the needlework supplies. Ciaran watched her. He saw her eyes darken. He had no idea what made her who she is today, but it certainly wasn't a pretty story.
"Put your pants down," Amaya ordered.
The prince's eyes widened in shock.
"Or you're embarrassed in front of your bride?" she smirked. "I need you to take your pants down so I can stitch up the wound," she told him.
Ciaran rolled his eyes and did as she told him. He was naked in front of her. Amaya lit candles to see better. Ciaran was blushing. Amaya couldn't help but smile.
"Don't laugh," Ciaran told her.
"Sorry. I can't help myself," she replied. "I've never been in a situation like this."
"It's your fault," said Ciaran.
"We could have called a doctor, but I'm in this situation because you're afraid of how your father, the king, would react to you not being able to tame me," Amaya said.
"Don't get into my head," said Ciaran.
"I'm not doing it," Amaya said. "It's obvious."
"Have you ever tried it?" he wondered.
"Never," she admitted. "I am to become your wife. I'm trying to trust you, even if it's hard."
"And you trust me?"
"No."
Amaya sat between the prince's legs, stitching up the wound she had caused. She was covered in his blood. The prince jerked as she stuck the needle into his flesh. He gritted his teeth as she pulled the thread.
"Stop carding," she told him.
"It hurts," said Ciaran.
"You are a soldier. You should be used to the pain." Amaya said.
She tied the last stitch. She washed the wound. She took a piece of decorative cloth that decorated her chambers, tore it and bandaged the prince's leg.
"You should stay here tonight. You lost a lot of blood. Someone should look after you." Amaya said.
"Are you suggesting I stay in your bed?" Ciaran smirked.
"Don't have impure thoughts, Ciaran," she told him with a smile.
"And what should I think about, little goddess?"
Amaya rolled her eyes. "If you're going to stay here tonight, please get dressed. I don't want Zariah to take it the wrong way if she sees you here in the morning."
"She might think you're starting to like me."
Amya rolled her eyes. She gently hit him on the shoulder. "Go get dressed," she told him.
Ciaran left to get dressed. His pants were useless from so much blood. For now, Amaya decided to wash the blood off the floor before any of the servants sees it.
"The servants will wash it," Ciaran told her as he saw her on her knees scrubbing the floor.
"You said yourself that his majesty, King Mael, must not find out. They must not find blood here." Amaya said.
Ciaran grabbed Amaya around the waist and lifted her off the ground. He carried her to bed.
"Ciaran, let me go!" Amaya laughed.
"You're going to sleep now," Ciaran told her. "Dawn will be here in a moment."
"You should get some sleep. You lost enough blood." Amaya told him.
"I'm going to bed," said Ciaran. "With you," he whispered softly in her ear.
Amaya turned to face him. They stood close to each other. They were separated only by their clothes. The prince was still holding her in his arms. She could feel his heart beating in his chest. He looked at her with his bewitching eyes. She felt as if he could see right into her soul. With a gentle touch, he smoothed the unruly strands of hair behind her ear.
"Why do you want to return to your king so badly?" he asked her.
"Where did you get the idea that I want to return to King Damon?" she answered him with a question.
"You wanted to run away."
"Hiraeth or the Golden Palace, a golden cage is still a cage."
"Then why did you stay?" he asked her. "You had a good chance tonight."
"I'm not that bad of a witch to let you die here," she replied. "But maybe I should have."
"You wouldn't let me die," said Ciaran.
He leaned closer and closer to her. Amaya clung to him even tighter. She clasped her hands around his neck. Their lips came closer but did not touch.
"You should get some sleep, Your Highness," Amaya said pulling away from him.
Prince Ciaran sighed. Amaya laughed.
"There will never be anything between us, little prince," Amaya told him.
"You like me. At least a little." Ciaran said with a mischievous smile. "Otherwise you wouldn't have saved me, little goddess."
"You must have lost more blood than I first thought," Amaya said in amazement.
"Why?" the prince did not understand.
"Because it seems you're starting to hallucinate."