The mob from the slums surged forward, some wielding daggers, others swinging machetes. Amid the chaos, I only managed to hear Drake's urgent voice in my ear.
"Take my hand!"
My body reacted before my brain caught up. I sprang to my feet and ran toward Drake, who was charging in on horseback, arm outstretched.
He leaned down from the saddle, grabbed my hand, and yanked me up in one swift motion. Pain shot through my arm like it had been ripped from the socket, but there was no time to feel it. I scrambled onto the horse behind him, adjusting my position quickly.
"Hold tight." Drake barked.
I wrapped my arms around his waist without hesitation. Drake urged the warhorse forward, tearing through the ring of assailants. The frenzied mob chased after us, throwing whatever they could — knives, sticks, stones — in a desperate attempt to stop us.
A blade nicked my left bicep. I bit down on my scream and clutched at Drake's cloak.
This situation was already bad enough. I couldn't afford to make it worse.
Thankfully, Drake's horse was a trained war steed, bred and broken for the battlefield. It quickly left the pursuers behind. Still, Drake didn't let his guard down and kept pushing the horse to full gallop, trying to put as much distance between us and the slums as possible.
The wound on my back hadn't stopped bleeding. I could feel the dampness spreading across my clothes. But this was nothing compared to the injuries I'd endured in my previous life, I could deal with it.
The three of us shared one horse and didn't dare stop. Drake might be able to protect me, but now, with a fragile girl to carry too, there were no guarantees.
He only slowed the horse when we reached the outskirts of the slums, though his eyes remained wary. I didn't want him to notice my injury and worry unnecessarily.
When we arrived at the castle stables, I jumped off the horse quickly, keeping my wounded arm hidden behind my back.
Drake dismounted and helped the girl down next. He didn't spare me a glance as he led the horse into its stall.
The girl looked shell-shocked, her face pale and trembling after the ordeal. Now she was even more terrified, seeing herself brought into the royal palace.
I pulled down my hood to reveal my distinctly royal hair color.
"From now on, your name is Leila. You're my personal maid."
She only came up to my shoulder. She looked confused, but quickly grasped the situation. After hearing my words, she lowered her head and accepted her new identity.
"Yes…"
I waited for Drake to return, then asked him to escort Leila to the head maid to get her cleaned up, changed, and taught the proper palace etiquette. While I spoke, I noticed his gaze kept drifting to my left arm, which I was deliberately hiding behind me.
"You're hurt?" Drake asked, his brow furrowing.
I quickly moved my arm farther out of sight, forcing a calm smile.
"No, I was just so scared I sweated through my clothes." Knowing the longer I lingered, the more likely I'd give myself away, I turned and walked off. "I'll leave her in your hands, Drake."
Then I bolted before he could figure out anything more. If he realized I was injured and deemed me a burden, what if his favor for me dropped?
It was better that no one knew I was hurt.
Back in my room, I washed the blood off myself and tended to the wounds.
By now, dusk had fallen. The training this morning had already pushed my limits, and the situation in the slums had wrung every drop of strength from Davina's frail body.
I skipped dinner and didn't let Xavier in to see me. I didn't want him to worry. It had only been a few days, and that puppy had already carved out a space in my thoughts. Should I commend him for being so good at winning hearts, or blame myself for going soft?
I let out a faint laugh at the thought of his sulky little face, then drifted off into a deep sleep.
I didn't know how long had passed when I began to stir, vaguely aware of a hand gliding over my body.
My eyelids fluttered open, heavy and sluggish. Behind me, someone pressed close in the dark.
"Xavier?" I murmured.
No answer came, just the sound of heated, ragged breathing and kisses trailing along my skin.
Had I really neglected Xavier this much?
Perhaps. Lately he'd been so restrained, so patient, waiting for my permission. Maybe he'd finally reached his limit.
I turned slightly and wrapped my arms around him, whispering through my exhaustion.
"Xavier… not tonight."
But this body… didn't feel like Xavier's.
My eyes snapped open as my vision adjusted to the dark. The face I saw was unfamiliar — handsome, yes, but utterly unknown.
Who the hell…?
I was about to resist, but the man suddenly climbed on top of me, pinning my wrists to the bed.
"Your Highness, it's been so long since you summoned me."
His voice was thick with lust, tinged with malice. The air carried a strange, sharp-sweet scent that muddled my thoughts.
This filthy bastard.
I tried to fight back, but my limbs wouldn't move.
"Don't be scared." He whispered as he sank his teeth into my neck. "I'll make you feel good in no time."
He kept speaking between rough kisses.
"My father said you've been focusing too much on politics. I need to help you get those thoughts out of your head."
My vision blurred. I couldn't even lift a finger. What had he drugged me with?
Noticing my fading lucidity, he chuckled and lifted his head, voice oozing deceit.
"Do you like the scent I brought you tonight? Maybe you forgot it since you haven't called for me in a while."
What the hell was he talking about? This wasn't the first time he drugged Davina?
My body grew limp, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"That's right." He murmured, satisfied, tugging my nightgown down. "Forget everything, your duties, your title. With this little miracle, you're not a princess anymore. No more pain."
I had to get out of this. Now.
But I had no strength left.
Someone… is there someone outside?
Davina had only ordered Drake to guard her door. But who knew if he was actually there? Maybe he was off somewhere playing with his little lover.
I had no other choice but to called out.
"Drake…"
Damn it. My voice was too weak. He wouldn't hear that.
I sucked in a deep breath and tried again, louder.
"Drak—!"
The man clamped a hand over my mouth before I could finish. I thrashed with all my might. The scent was affecting him too, his strength had waned. The moment he loosened his grip, I bit down hard on his palm.
"Drake!" I rasped, forcing the scream from my throat.
"You bitch!"
His voice was feral, detached from reason. His eyes were bloodshot as he raised a hand and struck me hard across the face.
Pain exploded across my cheek. Stars burst behind my eyes.
Son of a bitch! That really hurt!
The blow left me dizzy, what little strength I had draining away.
Maybe Drake wasn't even out there. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
What was I expecting, really? In this place, I could only count on myself.
Fine. I'd endure this bastard once, and skin him alive afterward.
I smirked and closed my eyes.
Just then, the door slammed open with a thunderous crash, as if someone had kicked it off its hinges.
I forced my eyes open and looked toward the doorway.
Black armor. Urgent strides.
Eyes blazing red with murderous rage.
Drake didn't say a word. He launched a punch that sent the man flying off me.
Though the weight was gone, I still couldn't move. I'd breathed in too much of that scent.
Drake threw a blanket over me, shielding my body. Through my hazy vision, I saw the crimson glow in his eyes, so fierce, it made even a seasoned soldier like me shiver.
Then… Drake lost it, when he saw the bruises on my face.
Though the man was already dazed, Drake grabbed him by the collar and rained down blow after brutal blow.
I couldn't see it, just heard the sickening crunch of bones breaking.
Was Drake affected by the scent too? Why was he acting like this?
No, I still had too many questions. That bastard couldn't die yet.
"The scent…" I forced my voice to rise, signaling to Drake that something in the room was wrong.
He finally stopped, frowning as he caught wind of the thick aroma permeating the air. His eyes scanned the room, searching for the source.
A censer sat on my vanity, wisps of smoke curling from it. What it was burning was not incense.
Drake quickly grabbed a teapot and doused the fire, then flung the windows open.
"Water…"
I needed water to flush this poison out of my system. I had a strong guess what that bastard had burned.
A scent I knew all too well from my past life, when hunting down smugglers and dealers.
Marijuana.
***