The battle was over by morning, the smell of blood lingering in the air after bodies had been cleared from the battlefield. Jimin sat on her horse, her armor covered with dried blood that was not hers, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Her arm throbbed beneath the metal plates. It was nothing deep, only a cut from a sword that had grazed her when she turned around too slowly. She could not call it pain, it was just something she had grown accustomed to ignoring, too used to it.
Other knights around her whispered as they gathered their friends’ bodies fallen during battle. Children and villagers came to witness this macabre waltz, waving at soldiers and calling them heroes. She had learned to ignore it. A few men shouted their blessings to the crown and Jimin kept her gaze low, hoping that no one would see the shape of her face underneath the helmet. Whispers followed her anyway, they had been following her since she was sixteen and first took her oath to serve the royal guard.
“She bears the King’s eyes,” they said when they thought she could not hear. “Perhaps she’s a bastard, they say the King had affairs before the Queen.”
It was not treason to whisper, she wasn’t mad at them, no one dared to speak the truth out loud.
She reached the courtyard and dismounted her horse. Blood had spread down to her wrist and Yizhuo, her companion and fellow knight frowned when she noticed. “You’ll need to show it to healers before it gets infected.”
“It will heal by itself,” Jimin said as she smoothed the mane of her horse.
“You’re not invincible, even though you like to pretend you are.”
Jimin only shook her head in response. “The infirmary has got work with other men right now, I can wait.”
Yizhuo let out a sigh, used to her stubbornness. “Suit yourself, but if your arm falls off don’t expect me to carry your sword.” She muttered under her breath and left.
Jimin looked up at the castle in front of her, stone walls darkened by the passage of time, banners dropping from the towers. Somewhere behind those walls sat King Julian, her father, a man she had not spoken to in years. The last time they had shared words he had told her that loyalty was the only path left for her. Loyalty and silence, a suffocating death she was left to face alone.
Pain spiked to her arm and she looked down at it with a frown on her face. It was dull but persistent, she couldn’t leave it like that.
She turned to the infirmary with a sigh and walked in. Inside, it smelled like herbs, torches hung to the walls were lit, and two healers were working. There was an older man and a young woman she had not seen before. The woman was bent over a soldier’s leg, pressing a cloth against the wound. Her brown hair was tied back and a few strands fell on her cheeks.
“Knight,” the man called when he saw her. “You’re wounded.”
“It’s nothing much,” Jimin said as her eyes flickered to him.
“Sit anyway, let her have a look at it.”
The brunette looked up and Jimin forgot how to breathe. It felt as if her lungs had been denied from oxygen, as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. Her eyes were a soft shade of brown that caught the fire’s light. She seemed to take a pause as well before gulping and setting down the cloth she was holding.
She gestured for Jimin to sit by her side. “It will need cleaning,” she said and Jimin caught the trace of something foreign in the way she spoke.
Jimin sat on the bench next to her and removed her gauntlet to roll back her sleeve, revealing the wound that crossed the length of her forearm. The woman examined it quietly, her fingers brushing against her skin. Her fingers were warm.
“You’ve bled more than you should have,” she said quietly. “How long has it been since the battle?”
“Since this morning.”
“You should have come sooner,” the brunette let out a sigh and reached for something to clean it.
Jimin didn’t respond, she knew about that. The healer did not scold her further, she just cleaned the wound softly. Jimin watched her work; she didn’t resemble anyone working for the crown, she didn’t seem like the ones that needed to be flattered or bowed to, she just worked as if the gods themselves had chosen her hands for this.
Pain spiked up again and Jimin tensed. The healer seemed to notice and applied less pressure to it. “It will sting,” the woman murmured.
Jimin simply nodded. “I have known worse.”
The brunette glanced up briefly and a flicker of amusement or sadness crossed her face. “I do not doubt it.”
11 likes from miggy, asadi, walking punching bag, TheReturnofTheBlueBird, zoomies, SpiralSpiral, summoning eru, kryphtot, brandoff, PinkBlood, and FrostOrca.