Chapter 19

Jasmine/Olivia

After my source of information and entertainment had been abruptly cut short, I felt a sense of boredom. A longing for solace drew me to the garden, my newfound sanctuary. As I settled into my favorite spot, I noticed a familiar figure staring right at me. It was him, the enigmatic figure that dark knight in a mask with those captivating eyes. His face still adorned with that mysterious mask. However, this time, an alarming detail seized my attention—the dark knight's arm was badly injured, a stark juxtaposition of crimson against the black of his attire.

A gasp involuntarily escaped my lips as the harrowing sight unfolded before me. The bleeding was profuse, a visceral testament to the violence he had endured. His watchful gaze bore into me as I tentatively approached.

"You're badly hurt," I uttered, the concern evident in my voice as I drew nearer. His face, was covered by the mask, but I could get the hint of annoyance he didn't want me there.

undeterred, I pressed on, inching closer to scrutinize the wound with a mix of fascination and compassion.

Peering intently at the injured arm, I was stunned. I had never seen an injury like that one before. It looked like a section of his skin was displaced, he must have been bitten by those horrid dogs last night. But that wasn't what struck me, it was the look of it, it wasn't only blood gushing out but an ash substance as well that looked like silver.A pang of guilt reverberated within me; in some inexplicable way, I felt complicit in his suffering, a silent acknowledgment that hung heavy in the air.

I could feel his watchful gaze on me. Undaunted by his apparent displeasure, I moved even closer, determined to offer some semblance of aid. "Let's wash that out," I suggested, pointing at the fountain close by.

He stood resolute, an unyielding figure similar to those soldiers from my home, Ashford. Just like the ones back at the palace who would their wounds as if they were inconsequential. Knights would get injured and act like it's no big deal, like they weren't badly hurt, I had worked at the palace so used to those egostical knights acting like they weren't hurt. I was used to the coldness of knights so I ignored determined to ignore his stubbornness and arrogance. But then he turned to leave

"Wait," I interjected, taking a stand in front of him, obstructing his path.

"You really need to get that looked at. Bandaging it like that is just asking for an infection." My words hung in the air as his gaze, sharp and penetrating, bore into me. I could sense bumps rising on my skin like a silent protest.

I could have sworn his eyes changed colour. Those captivating orbs seemed to have changed to a darker shade. The same thing had happened last night. I had to be imagining it.

My inner voice urged me to retreat—leave now. But defying that instinct, I extended my hand, gesturing towards the nearby fountain once more "Let's wash this off," I proposed again reaching out to grasp his injured arm this time.

I felt a sudden jolt of electrification that left me momentarily suspended. He must have felt it too, because he flinched and instinctively withdrew his arm.

"Listen, I understand you're in a rush. It'd be wise to let me take care of this so you can be on your way," I uttered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Undeterred, I made another attempt, securing his wrist with a firmer grip. A sudden shiver ran down my spine, an unexpected chill washing over me. This time, though, he cooperated, allowing me to proceed.

As I embarked on the task of washing and tending to his wounds, the knight sat rigidly, almost statue like. Despite his seemingly immobile state, I knew he was far from asleep; I could feel the weight of his eyes fixed upon me. The intensity of that gaze was disconcerting, prompting me to avoid staring back this time, opting instead for a focused concentration on my task.

Surveying the garden, I recognized familiar healing herbs with their soothing properties. Gathering them, I concocted a mixture by blending them with water to achieve the desired texture. With a sense of purpose, I delicately applied the herbal remedy to his wounds. The contact with his skin revealed an icy coldness, and a subtle, sparking sensation surged through me as I tended to his injuries.

The realization struck that the wound needed proper wrapping, but the bandage he had used was far from acceptable—it was downright disgusting.

I needed to find one. I knew what I had to do

I gingerly lifted his sword, meeting his questioning gaze with a fleeting acknowledgment. "I'm just borrowing this," I declared, feeling the substantial weight of the weapon in my hands. I improvised, making a small incision at the tip of my long dress. Bending down, I tore a section of the fabric, fashioning an impromptu bandage.

Addressing him with a mix of concern and candor, I spoke, "I know it's not my business, and I'm probably the most annoying and intrusive female you've ever met. But earlier, it was clear you had no intention of getting this treated. With that standoffish demeanor and that piercing glare, you'd likely scare off anyone attempting to help. I just can't stand by and see someone hurt without doing something. Plus, you saved my life."

The makeshift bandage, while far from ideal in terms of hygiene,but it had become a necessary solution. The urgency of the situation didn't allow me to look for a proper bandage, knowing all too well that he would vanish before I could return.

As I continued tying the bandage, he abruptly stood, practically shoving me aside. Picking up his sword, he turned away and he walked out, leaving me staring at his retreating back.

"That was rude," I muttered to myself, though I couldn't muster any resentment. He could handle the rest himself. The fabric bandage dangling from his arm.

Stepping out of the serene confines of the garden, my thoughts were abruptly disrupted by Anna's urgent presence.

"Lady Olivia," she called, her fingers closing around my arm with a sense of insistence. "Come at once. You'll be dining with the King this evening," she declared, her words slightly breathless from the haste of her delivery.

The announcement hit me like an unexpected tempest, causing my heart to quicken its pace within the confines of my rib cage. Dining with the King of Nightfall, the thought of that resonated within me with both anticipation and trepidation. King Darius, the architect of my people's suffering, the man whose greed had dismantled lives and torn my family apart.

I had glimpsed King Darius last night, but from a considerable distance. Seated imperiously upon his regal throne, he embodied every facet of the monarch I had imagined. An aura of authority emanated from him, a palpable force that demanded submission to. My gut twisted with nervousness grappling with the daunting prospect of standing in the presence of a man who had inflicted immeasurable pain upon my people.