The Prince And The Pagan

Chapter 6: The Opportunity

-Raven-

“Micah!” Micah was by a larger bonfire, drinking with the other hunters and laughing. I knew he heard me the first time, yet he made me call for him again. “Micah!”

He finally turned his gaze toward me before looking away, finishing his drink, and rising to his feet. His eyes were cold as he met me halfway, crossed his arms, and looked as if he couldn’t care less about what I had to say. His attitude irritated me.

“Yes?” he asked curtly.

I glanced at the other hunters, who were watching us silently, then turned back to Micah. I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the group. I wasn’t going to have this conversation in front of others It was ridiculous and childish.

Once we were out of earshot, I stopped and faced him. “Why are you acting like this?” I demanded.

“Like what?” he inquired.

“Like this!” I exclaimed, exasperated. “Like a child.”

“Me?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“Yes! You’ve been ignoring me. Is it really because I said no in the forest?”

He looked away and shook his head slightly, lowering his arms. I was completely bewildered. Why was he so angry, or frustrated, or whatever it was he was feeling? For the first time, he was actually difficult to read.

“Of course not,” he replied, looking back at me.

“Then what is it?” I questioned.

He seemed to struggle to find the words, which I couldn’t quite understand.

“I just... don’t get why you’d say no, and then come back saying you found the prince half dead, right after we discussed his family. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” he said.

“You think I hurt him?”

“Well, I know no one else was out there,” he pointed out. “I mean, do you even realize what kind of trouble this will cause?”

“Of course I do!” I retorted. “I just don’t understand why you’re treating me like this! What’s going on?”

Micah’s behavior was so odd. It couldn’t be solely about what happened in the forest or the prince’s condition—there was something else at play.

“I’m going back to the others,” he said abruptly. “Come find me when you’re ready to make it clear you want to be with me.”

“Micah!”

He turned away, not even looking at me. What was this about? Why was he acting like I had hurt his feelings or rejected him by saying no to s*x against a tree? It made no sense. I groaned in frustration, wanting to punch something, but settled for pulling at my hair before turning away.

If Micah wasn’t going to tell me what was wrong, there was nothing I could do for now. I walked back to where Helena was, but just as I was about to help with the last preparations for dinner, I saw the healer leaving his place…

He was heading toward the tent where my parents lived, and my heart began to race. Instead of following him, I turned my attention to the tent. Was the prince dead? Why else would the healer be leaving his tent now? I couldn’t wait for my father to tell me what had happened. Given that he had been keeping secrets from me lately, I wasn’t sure if he would share anything at all.

So, when no one was looking, I slipped over to the tent’s entrance. I glanced around to ensure no one was watching. Everyone was either busy preparing dinner or relaxing in the late evening.

I quickly slipped inside the dimly lit tent, which was thick with the scent of herbs. It was divided into several sections. Although I had never been inside before, I heard a faint coughing from the back of the tent and knew the prince was there.

The coughing meant he was still alive, but it didn’t reveal his condition. Since I was already here, I slowly moved forward, gently pushing aside the thin fabrics that hung from the ceiling and divided the place into multiple rooms.

I reached the last curtain and pushed it aside, revealing the prince. He looked horrible. His skin was deathly pale, with a sickly green tinge mixed into the white, and he was drenched in sweat. He occasionally coughed, and each breath came with a rattling sound that made me feel a pang of sympathy. The noise of his labored breathing was almost painful to hear.

I stepped closer. In his weakened state, he couldn’t harm me, I reminded myself. A blanket covered his lower half, while a large white bandage, stained with blood, covered the wound on his stomach. The atmosphere around him was heavy with a dark energy. I feared he might not make it.

I watched him for a while, taking in his appearance. He was surprisingly large and muscular, with black hair that contrasted sharply with his pallid complexion. He didn’t match the image I had of a prince.

The few lords I’d seen traveling through these woods had always been clad in fine clothes adorned with gold, acting like they owned the land they walked on. The prince, in contrast, looked like a fighter, a warrior.

He would be a formidable opponent in a fight, but I knew that wouldn’t be necessary. Once he was awake, I would return. Determined, I nodded at the sleeping prince and turned to leave. But just as I did, I heard a groan and felt something grip my wrist.

I gasped in shock before turning around to see that the prince had gently grasped my wrist in his sleep. My heart leaped at the unexpected contact, and I watched him closely, anxious he might do more. However, he merely groaned and mumbled in his sleep.

“Don’t... go...”

I carefully lifted his hand and tried to pull away, but just as I managed to free myself and was about to leave, I came face to face with Dimar.

“Healer!” I exclaimed, startled.

I knew I was in trouble now. Dimar’s light green eyes glinted with what seemed like amusement. “Couldn’t wait any longer, Raven?”

“I... I...” I stammered.

“You... what?” he asked, then walked past me.

“I was just... checking on him,” I said.

It was partly true, though my intentions might not be as innocent as they appeared.

“Really?” Dimar inquired. “Is there an aspiring healer in you?”

“Well...”

“If that’s the case, I would like you to hand me that jar over there.”

He pointed to a small table at the far end of the room, cluttered with jars, herbs, and bandages. I quickly grabbed the jar he indicated and handed it to him. Dimar began to unwrap the layers of bandages from around the prince’s body.

“If there’s nothing else, Healer, I’ll be going,” I told him, hoping for a quick escape.

“Actually, could you hand me those bandages?”

I was so close to leaving but had to turn around and retrieve the bandages. Dimar was applying ointment from the jar to the prince’s wound. The stitches were intact, but the area around them was red and oozing an unsettling liquid. The sight made me feel nauseous, but I handed him the bandages.

“Here you go,” I said, turning to leave.

“Place this back, please,” Dimar instructed, not even looking up.

I tried not to sigh too loudly as I turned to put the jar back.

“Now take the cup and pour a little water into it,” he instructed.

I clenched my fists in frustration. It was clear he was doing this on purpose, and his barely concealed smile suggested he was enjoying this. Reluctantly, I grabbed the cup, filled it with water, and handed it to Dimar.

“Here you go, Healer,” I said.

“Thank you. Now pour some water into the bowl and bring the cloth with you.”

I rolled my eyes but complied. I knew that unless I admitted the true reason for my presence, I would be his errand runner for the rest of the day. I poured water into the small bowl, placed the cloth inside, and handed both items to him.

“Now take the cup.”

I placed the cup back where it belonged and turned to Dimar and the prince. Dimar was carefully wiping away the sweat and the strange liquid from the prince’s body. His old eyes were fixed on the prince with intense scrutiny. It was almost fascinating, but I was eager to leave.

“Do you need anything else?” I asked politely.

“Come a little closer, Raven,” he told me, gesturing for me to approach.

I sighed but complied, standing beside him. Dimar sat on a small chair near the prince and then turned his gaze to me.

“What do you see?” he questioned.

I wondered if this was some kind of trick question. “A... dying person,” I replied.

“Is that all?”

“A... dying prince?”

“As a healer, you need to look beyond the sick body. You must see the light and the hope for survival. You must view him as someone who can be saved,” he instructed.

“Someone who can be saved?” I inquired, still feeling confused.

Dimar nodded and then turned his attention back to the prince, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“He is very young. If he survives, he has a long life ahead of him. That is why, as a healer, you must always prioritize the wounded, even those who seem unworthy of being saved.”

“Why?” I inquired. “If they seem unworthy, why spend your time on them?”

“Because we dedicate our lives to preserving life, not to death. We save everyone because we believe that people can be saved. We believe in the hope that life can bring—new beginnings and new chances. It is very important that you remember this now.”

“Why now?”

“Because I plan to ask your father if you can become my apprentice,” he said.

“Your what?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To check on the prince and make sure he’s going to recover, or was there another reason?” he inquired with a hint of a cruel smile.

“But I…”

“Yes?”

“I... I will gladly help,” I told him, feeling defeated.

“Wonderful. Now, give me a hand and let’s put on the new bandages.”

I wanted to kick myself for getting into this situation, but now there was no turning back. Yet, as we wrapped the prince in fresh bandages, I started to see this as an opportunity. Could it get any better?