Darelle

17

Darelle wondered what to do about the unconscious doctor, whose fever was yet to break. She couldn't leave and call for help without both of them facing repercussions for her visit.

The idea of what the royal physician would do, dropped on her and she skimmed through her memories to see what he often did to her motkher. Then princess dropped to her knees behind the doctor, nervous about what any mistake from her could take, or lead to an innocent man's passing to the next world.

She moved her head and laid it on his chest to remember to his heartbeat. She listened, and heard his heart beating slowly. Was it normal? She straightened herself and placed her hand on her chest and the other on his. It was slower than her for a fever. Was he poisoned? She checked his hand and felt it was warm. She dismissed the wild idea, her uncle wouldn't hurt one of his own and she was sure Cain wouldn't also.

Instinctively, she touched his forehead and it was rising. She feared for his life, was it sunstroke? He didn't allow much air circulation in his room? She looked up around the air was fresh, but she continued she caught the smell of incense and spices in the room. Something she thought was sweetly clouding her senses. She shook her head and tried to focus on the man in front of her.

At lost of what to do any further, she stood up, carried her basin of water to dispose of and filled up with new. Once she was done in the bathroom, she made her way toward him and found him shaking up and down—the point of almost convulsing.

Without wasting time, she closed the distance, placed the basin on the floor. Hardly, having the time, strength or skill to check his pulse. She did the unthinkable.

The princess climbed his body and placed each of her knees on his side and her hand quickly pulled his shirt. Her eyes widened on the sight of his tattoos, but she continued until she was done. Satisfied, she placed her hands on his chest, where she felt his heartbeat faintly beating.

Her mind whisked back to where a prince had nearly drowned during her summer vacation her parents had planned. She recalled what the doctor had done and mimicked it.

Placing both her hand on his chest in a splayed manner, she started to pumping his chest she didn't know she possess. Whether her action was helping of killing him, none of that mattered to her. All she knew was she had to do something, anything.

"Don't you dare die on me." she told him, resisting the temptation to curse. "Rumpel!" she called him, as the overwhelming feeling that she was losing him—washed over her.

She refused to break down mentally and give up on him. So, she continued. "Rumpel." she exclaimed as exhausted came upon her.

Tired and exhausted, she wiped the sweat that gathered on her forehead and pretended everything was going to be fine. He would wake up, or she would wake up from this unsettling dream. "Rumpel!" she screamed with raw emotion taking a hold of her. She couldn't live with another death on her hands. She couldn't.

When she thought all was lost and she failed with her hands slowing down. He gasped, taking a full gulp of air and sat up to see her on his legs.

She didn't care but rather raising her nerve-shaken hand to his wet forehead, pushing his hair away and touched to see his fever had broken.

Realizing the weight of her actions, now, it was then she looked into his eyes and saw his eyes. The gold captured her in jealousy and her breath hitched at the sight all the same.

It dawned on her, she was seeing things, she pressed her eyes close and opened them to see his eyes normal as he stared back at her. Now, she was certain her eyes was playing tricks on her, there was no way he had such ethereal feature.