"Are you okay, my queen?" Evander was perched above her, with his arm behind her head, protecting her from the impact when he tackled her to the floor, covering her body with his. Chaos was unfolding around her, as the instructor, guards, and servants clamored to assess injuries, get help, and organize a search of the castle for the dark magic that had acted before their eyes. Evander only concerned himself with her, and she couldn't stand it. She started to try to wiggle from beneath him so she could create distance between them, but he held her tighter. "Don't move. We're surrounded by glass. Let me get up and I will help you."
He carefully brushed some glass away from the floor by her shoulder and placed the hand he didn't have behind her on the floor. It was then that she noticed the blood soaking the arm of his shirt. He carefully pulled his other arm from behind her head and did the same on the other side of her body so he could push himself up onto his knees, and eventually to standing. Then he reached down and pulled her up onto her feet. More blood trickled from his hairline down the side of his neck as gravity took hold.
Less than a day since they met, and he was already bleeding for her.
"You're injured," she stated, trying not to put too much emotion into the words. "Come!" she directed at the staff, "Tend to the wielder before others."
"No, please," he said gently, raising his hand to the staff that had literally stopped what they were doing to follow her order, "I'm fine. Please take care of those that need it more than I do. I will survive a few moments."
"You are the future king. I must insist that…" he placed a finger on her lips, which annoyed the hell out of her. She wasn't a child to be shushed at his will.
"I must insist that those with more serious injuries be taken care of before me. What kind of king will I be if I put my needs ahead of my people, especially in moments like these? I will be fine." He didn't leave much room for argument, and that infuriated her further. Why did everything he did make her so angry, even when it was good?
"Then we will go to my quarters, where my nurse and I will tend to you until a doctor becomes available." And without giving him time to respond, she turned to the door and shouted, "I need guards to take us to my room."
She grabbed him by the arm that wasn't soaked through with blood and began to lead him out of the hall. Several guards met her at the grand entrance and formed a circle around them, two before them, on either side, and behind, all with weapons drawn, not that they would be effective against the darkness. Mina held the only weapon that could stop it within her, and her wielder couldn't even dance. She had no faith he could fight.
When they got to her rooms, she ordered two of the men to search them while the rest stayed with them in the hallway. Once they gave her the all clear, she ordered half of the guards into Lantha's service hallway and the other half to stay in the main hallway at her door before calling for Lantha with her service bell. Evander just followed her quietly, watching her calmly carry out her duties without a trace of fear in her. When she turned back at him, she was greeted with an expression of awe and wonder.
"Let me lay out blankets so you can lie on your stomach on the settee. You'll have to disrobe so we can see the extent of the damage. I'll wait in the next room for you to finish." She turned her attention to Lantha, who had just burst into the room, out of breath from what was surely a swift journey from the servants' quarters to her room. No doubt Lantha had run all the way there once she heard what was happening, and her bell sounded. "Lantha, warm soapy water, plain water, bandaging cloth, and an appropriate poultice. We'll probably also need pinchers to remove any glass and fresh clothes for the king… future king."
"Yes, milady," she dipped at the knees and quickly left to collect what she'd been asked for. Mina followed as far as the next room and closed the door behind her.
She spent the moments following steeling herself for seeing this man unclothed once again. His stench was already permeating her rooms as the blood oozed from his wounds. Soon, she was going to be absolutely steeped in it. She would never feel clean again. She took off the outer layer of her dress in preparation for the dirty job before her, and set it on the dressing chair in her room at her vanity. It was covered in dust from the floor and would need to be cleaned before finding its way back into her wardrobe. Lantha emerged from her hallway with a second servant carrying the second bowl of water, the rest of the supplies stuffed in the pockets of both women's aprons. Mina went and opened the sitting room door for the two women, being sure not to look in until Lantha told her he was ready. She stepped in and saw that Lantha had used a large swath of bandage to cover the human's upturned buttocks, though the blood leaking through the cloth already told her that it would also need attention.
"Let me see your arm first." Mina's request came out more like an order than she intended, but she didn't correct it. She took the pincher handed to her. With a steady hand, she began examining each wound on his arm for glass shards, pulling them out quickly and gently, then setting them onto another cloth laid out on a table set up next to her.
There was more embedded in him than she would have liked, but not as much as she'd thought from the blood pouring out of him. Humans are so delicate. She cursed whoever was in charge of these decisions for sending her such a weak and fragile wielder. His back was by far the worst because, in his efforts and frustration learning to dance, he had removed his coat and vest, both made of a sturdy, heavy fabric, and opted to continue in his flowy muslin undershirt. It had offered very little protection against the projectiles that exploded from the ornate chandelier. He didn't so much as twitch as she pulled piece after piece from his skin. She was relieved that his trousers, which had been made of the same heavy fabric as his other overgarments, had offered more protection, and she didn't have to pull more than a couple of pieces of glass from his legs and bottom, greatly shortening both of their discomfort.
She began gently cleansing the area with larger pieces of cloth soaked in the soapy water. Paying plenty of attention to each area, wiping up blood, dust and contaminants that would be detrimental to healing. Then she used the clean water to remove any remnants of soap and pressed bandages to any cuts that were still actively weeping blood to stem the flow enough to be able to apply the poultice and dress the wounds. The poultice, which smelled like honey and fragrant herbs, would help stem the flow as well, prevent infection, and reduce inflammation and pain. As she began to apply it to his arm, her door opened and she flicked her eyes to the doctor that entered, apothecary bag in hand, then back to his back where she started to apply more poultice.
"I've just about finished here. You may check my work and apply the dressing as you see fit." He nodded and waited patiently for her to finish. She stood up, her knees aching from the extended contact with the stone floor, and gestured to the doctor to finish for her.
She quickly stepped out of her sitting room into her bedroom and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply as she let her queenly façade fall for a few unbearable moments. Her future husband and king, whom she abhorred the existence of, was still her only fate. As much as she hated that, as the reality of the situation bored into her with every piece of glass, she began to feel a worry and panic that almost didn't belong to her. She knew it was because of the magical bond that she shared with him, and she almost hated him for his fragility. Together, they were supposed to be an unstoppable force, but she couldn't see how that would be. He was too breakable. Too killable. And the darkness knew they were vulnerable.