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Chapter 7 - Swear it

For the first time in a long time, I was at ease. After I served the Prince his food which he looked very grateful for, I scooped myself some food and ate in the kitchen. Then I laid some clean bedding in the store room and slept.

When I awoke, I awoke to the sound of birds and the sunlight, I was still alive. I quickly went to check on the Prince. He was still sleeping.

I decided to leave him to rest for a while, it was probably the first good sleep he has had in a long time. I told myself I would find some proper soap to give him a more thorough bath later in the day. I went back to my chores.

The Prince's chamber was habitable but far from clean. There was still lots to do.

Cobwebs hung on every furniture and bookshelves, the curtains were dusty and old. They had to be removed and cleaned or replaced.

The bathing chamber needed very good scrubbing. I still had loads of linens to wash and sort and many many surfaces to clean. I had my work cut out for me already.

As I started gathering the dirty sheets to the bathing chamber to wash, the door burst open with a resounding bang. My heart leaped, and I spun around to face the intruder, surprised that someone had come in without trying to knock first. It was Lark, the steward glaring at the pristine room with a look of utter astonishment.

For a moment, he stood there, eyes wide, as if he had never seen the prince's chamber free from dust, grime and disarray. I wondered if he would say something, perhaps even offer a small compliment, but his expression quickly hardened. He chose instead to ignore my efforts, as if by pretending not to notice, he could diminish the work I had done.

"The royal family has been informed of your presence. Get ready," he barked, his tone brusque. "The royal family may request your presence soon to inspect you. See if you're up to their standards."

I almost scoffed at that. Royal family indeed. The Alpha King didn't care about such frivolities. If he could dispose and discard of his own son why would he care about me?

The Luna was dead, leaving only the Alpha King's concubine. The only one who would truly care about such thing. My former master. I had to delay whatever meeting they were planning so she would not see me. It's been ten years and I was somehow very sure that she would still recognize me. She would see through my scam. Besides, there was also a possibility that she had met Lady Isabelle before.

The news was unsettling—but I kept my cool, simply nodding and folding the sheets  in my hands.

"Of course," I replied, my voice steady. I would not give Lark the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me.

But there was something else I needed from him. The pantry was bare, and I needed more supplies to prepare dinner. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a gleaming gold bangle, some of what I was able to find in Lady Isabelle's luggage.

"Please," I called, holding out the bangle. "I need more food supplies and some soap. Meat, bread, cheese, some herbs, lots of vegetables... enough to make a proper meal."

He eyed the bangle with a mix of greed and disdain. "One bangle won't be enough," he grumbled, reaching out to take it.

"I know it will fetch a good price. It's real gold. It's supposed to even fetch me way more," I countered, not backing down. "If you cannot provide the supplies, give it back to me."

For a moment, Lark seemed to consider my words. Then, with a sneer, he tossed the bangle back at me.

"You should go to the market yourself then!"

"Your think it's easy running your errands for you like I'm some sort of servant?! Listen you might be noble born but I am the one the King has put in charge. And if you don't accept what that wretched bangle can buy then forget it."

He said haughtily, expecting me to beg.

But I would not beg. I simply picked the bangle and turned away, resuming my folding with deliberate calmness, acting like Lark wasn't in the room with me. I could feel his eyes on my back, waiting for me to call out to him, to plead. But I would not.

A tense silence stretched between us. Then, with a grudging sigh, he  stretched his hand, briefly pointing at the bangle, "Fine. I'll get what you need."

I allowed myself a small smile of triumph as I gave him the bangle.

"And some mirth root, widow's bark and ginger root please." I added as he slammed the door and left.

.......

Despite his initial hesitancy to offer me any help, or get any supplies for me, Lark came back with everything I needed. Even though we both knew that the bracelet was worth way more than what he had gotten. I packed away the food supplies as I started thinking of what next to do.

Then I remembered the herbs I had gotten. I had to make a bath for the Prince. A healing bath that would soothe some of his sores. That was what he needed.

It was why I stood at the threshold of his room, determined to offer him the relief he so desperately needed.

"Prince Rowan," I called softly, not wanting to startle him. "It's time for your bath."

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine. "Why?" he asked, a hint of resistance in his voice. "I'm fine as I am."

I took a step closer, holding out the pot of herbs I had brewed for his bath. "Your sores need tending to," I said gently. "These herbs will help soothe your skin and promote healing. So please, let me help you."

He glanced at the pot, then back at me, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "Very well," he murmured. "But only because you insist."

With a nod, I moved to his side, slipping my arm beneath his to help him sit up. His muscles, once taut and strong, had atrophied from disuse, and it took considerable effort to lift him from the bed. With a grunt of effort, I managed to maneuver him into his wheelchair. I wished I knew how to fix it since one wheel had adamantly decided not to work anymore, but I had no money or way to fix it now. And I didn't want Lark to think I had a lot of gold bangles to give him.

"Thank you," he whispered, the words barely audible. I simply nodded, gripping the handles of the wheelchair and steering him towards the bathing chamber. The journey was short, but fraught with difficulty, the wheels were uneven and they kept making the journey even harder and longer.  Still, we pressed on, my determination unwavering.

As we reached the chamber, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The room was warm, steam already rising from the large tub at its center. I had taken the liberty of preparing the bath beforehand, all did was pour the brewed herbs and soap into the bath.

I began to hum a tune, a habit I had developed to calm my nerves and pass away the time I helped the Prince undress, my hands gentle and respectful.

Like the last time I left his undergarments on, not willing to deprive him of that privacy. He seemed not to mind too much about that fact.

Once he was in the tub, I began to wash him, starting with his hair and working my way down. The water turned murky as the dirt and grime of the days old were washed away, but I paid it no mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. It was only when I reached his legs that I noticed something was wrong.

Prince Rowan winced, a sharp intake of breath the only sign of his discomfort. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. "Your highness," I whispered, " did you feel that?"

He looked at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "Yes," he said slowly. "I can feel it."

I stared at him in shock, my mind racing. He couldn't walk. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Or any sensation in his legs, yet he felt something. I wondered why that was happening now.

Had the sensation been there before? But they had not noticed due to the years of neglect?

"Does it hurt?" I asked, my voice trembling a little.

"A little," he admitted, his eyes wide with what seemed to be shock and wonder. "But it's also a strange feeling. I never thought I would feel anything down there ever again....  it's more than I've felt in years."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. This was a miracle, a sign that perhaps, against all odds, he might recover. L

"This is great news! Don't worry, I'll be gentle," I promised, resuming my task with the utmost care. He nodded, his trust in me implicit, and I took strength from that faith, my hands steady as I continued to cleanse his wounds.

The bath took longer than usual, each movement measured and deliberate. Prince Rowan remained mostly silent, his eyes closed as he focused on the sensations coursing through his body. When I finally finished, I helped him out of the tub, wrapping him in a soft towel and guiding him back to his wheelchair.

As I wheeled him back to his room, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope. If there was a possibility that he could heal, that would be amazing. And as I helped him back into bed, arranging the pillows to support his weakened frame, I vowed to do everything in my power to see him healed.

"Ariadne," he said, his voice thick with emotion. I turned to him in shock, a little startled that he even said my name. It was still a little bit strange hearing my name from others.

"Do not breathe a word about this. To anybody."

"Swear it with your life."

He said and I shuddered a bit at that voice. That powerful voice that reminded me that the Prince was no ordinary man. No ordinary werewolf.

"I swear it your highness."

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