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AZADE STOPPED THE KNIFE. It happened so quickly, the knife only cut on the surface of his neck and would've gone deeper if she hadn't thrown herself on Vardin. Her hand was gripping his now, pulling the knife away from him.
"Vardin!" She screamed shaking him as she tried to shift her weight to stop him. He blinks once, blood gushing out of the cut in his neck. It looks deep enough to be harmful, but shallow enough that he could be saved.
Nobody came to aid the girl holding the bleeding solider in her arms.
She scrambled to stop the blood rushing from his neck, pressing her small fingers against the wound only for blood to seep through the edges of her hands. He breathed heavily, looking like he might faint at any given time. Azade prayed.
All her prayers so far had been selfish, self-serving, asking for whatever power to make her survive. But now, she wasn't asking for her own survival anymore. She whispered every prayer her Mother had taught her, the unfamiliar Farsi words rolling off her tongue. She could've sworn Vardin's breathing calmed at her voice, speaking his own language.
"Please, someone help!" Her voice shrilled. She closed her eyes, feeling the fainting pulse of his neck against her palm. This was her fault. This was her fault. This was her fault. This was her fault.
Blood ran through her fingers, years of watching slaves apply pressure to their cuts and beatings had taught her that simple rule. Pressure. She needed more pressure.
"Help!" She screamed, looking as Vardin began to choke on his own blood, the red substance dribbling down his chin. Azade, without thinking, tore the hem of her kaftan. The strip of gold fabric tore easily off the end of the fabric, making it easy for her to tie it loosely around Vardin's neck. Her fingers were trembling as she tied the fabric, watching her only friend choke on his own blood.
She didn't know how many times she screamed, she didn't even notice when she was suddenly ripped off his body.
"Get off girl!" Another guard shouted at her, shoving her to the cold marble as he ran to Vardin's body.
"Help him, help him please—"
The guard ignored her, picking up Vardin as if he were a simple sack of weight. Vardin still sputtered in his arms, hands clawing at his own neck. "I'll get him to a healer." Was all the guard said.
"Thank yo—" Azade whispered, her shaking body rising up to follow the guard out of the balcony room. Rukun was gone, so were the two other guards with knife to their necks. Unsurprisingly, the sun had risen and dawn was winking over the horizon.
