Saving the Second Male Lead

Chapter Sixteen

At one moment, I was brushed behind Lawrence, and the next, I was pulled up against Oliver. His arms wrapped around me protectively as he turned me away from Sawyer. I clenched my fist, trying not to get blood on his shirt, but it was too late for that. I looked up to apologize, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was looking over his shoulder, his jaw tense. I leaned to the side just enough to see what was going on.

Sawyer was resting on the ground, propping himself on his elbows. His sword was nowhere to be seen, but Lawrence's was pointed directly at his throat. Sawyer spat out dirt and glared up at Lawrence.

"Well, isn't this a familiar site," he sneered, wiping his mouth. His eyes darted to me, and he began to stand up. I stiffened, and though he still hadn't looked at me, Oliver's arms instinctively held me tighter.

Lawrence twisted his sword in his hand, the point still trained on Sawyer as he dragged himself to his feet.

"Relax, cousin, I've been unarmed," Sawyer said, raising his hands in defeat. Lawrence didn't move, and his expression only hardened. Their eyes met, and Sawyer snorted at the man who dared to stand up to him. Sawyer turned his head to scan the crowd. He seemed to expect the crowd to look at Lawrence with the same disbelief. But he froze as he realized that everyone's cold eyes were instead glued onto him.

His face reddened, and breathing quickened as he frantically looked through the crowd. He was the crown prince, the future emperor, and was used to having all eyes on him, but never like this. A few were brave enough to display their disgust, but most looked at him with pure, unadulterated fear. Fear of what he had done, fear of what he would do again, fear of what it would be like to have him as a leader. And they had every reason to be afraid.

"No one will speak of this," he said, his voice deathly calm, "do you understand?"

No one spoke; no one even nodded their head.

"I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" he screamed, his now shaky voice reverberating off the walls. There was a strained collective murmur of yes from the crowd. It quickly fell into a silence that was only broken by racing footsteps and a door slamming open. Ryia ran to my side and immediately twisted me out of Oliver's hold. He started to say something, but her glare shut his mouth immediately.

"Give me your hand," she demanded with a tone I'd rarely heard from her. I held it out, too intimidated to refute. She uncurled my fingers and gritted her teeth as blood began to seep from the cut again. After looking it over, she let go, only to unravel the gauze in her other hand. So that's where she went. She haphazardly wrapped it up, knotting it a little too tightly. It was messy but enough to stop the bleeding momentarily. As soon as she tied it up, her eyes shot up towards Sawyer.

"You!­" Her voice cracked, devoid of the warmth and grace it usually imbued with. Widening eyes focused on her, but she paid no notice as her body shook angrily.

"What is wrong with–"

I gripped her hand hard enough to stop her. For a second, her glare turned to me. Her expression dropped as she realized what she had done. She took my other hand without hesitation and led me out of the tense air of the training ground. As the adrenaline left my body, only to be replaced by pain, I was more than thankful for her.

Ryia's furious steps rattled down the dimly lit cobblestone hallways as she snaked her way through the maze of tunnels, with mine weakly trailing behind. I had no clue how she knew the way, but she moved with enough confidence that I trusted her. We came upon a rusty, wrought iron door that she didn't even bother knocking on.

Ryia opened the door with enough force that the physician, a young woman with curly brown hair and dark eyes, rocked in her chair. The physician took one look at the mess the two of us had become, drenched in sweat and splattered with my blood, and beckoned for us to sit on the bed. She rushed to and fro, gathering all sorts of medical supplies.