Bound To Cazmus

Chapter Five

The waterfall glistened as the crystal blue water cascaded down, creating a mesmerizing display.

Fireflies danced through the air, adding their luminescent glow to the scene and bringing Chantelle a profound sense of tranquility. Despite the frosty air, the water enveloped Chantelle in a delightful warmth as she waded in, feeling the soothing embrace of nature.

She stood neck deep in the water, her eyes delicately closing to savor the moment.

“You really aren't going to get in, My Lord? You have blood all over you–”

“No,” he said gruffly, keeping his back turned toward her as he scanned the surroundings, ensuring it was safe.

"My lord…that is wolf blood, it may attract other wolves," Cazmus noted, acknowledging the validity of her point. He realized that he was too weak to fend off any more wolves at the moment.

Desperate for sustenance, he contemplated hunting, but the harsh winter had driven the animals into hibernation, making it impossible to find prey.

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Cazmus removed his cloak and began shedding his clothes until he stood bare. With resolve, he stepped into the water, letting itvcarry the weight of his worries away. As his hair floated gracefully atop the water, he couldn't help but realize that it had grown unruly and would need to be cut soon.

Chantelle's cheeks turned crimson as she gazed at his imposing figure, unable to tear her gaze away from the intricate web of scars that adorned his body.

Chantelle wanted to ask about it, but she felt it would be rude.

She cleared her throat, she gathered her courage and spoke, “My lord, may I ask about your scars? How did you get them?” He raised an eyebrow and gave himself a cursory glance before fixing his gaze on her.

“Yours.”

Was all he said. She hesitated, not because she didn't want to share, but because she was cautious not to inadvertently mention Orpheus.

“Before I came to the palace, I was owned by someone, he bought me from an auction, I was 16– young ... .innocent ... .naive, he was someone I used to trust, but most of them were from punishments, when I didn't do as he said, some were put on me just for the hell of it–Now, it's your turn.”

She was reluctant to delve deep into the topic. Those were wounds she hadn't fully recovered from, wounds she feared she might never fully heal.

Cazmus could detect the emptiness in her eyes as she recounted her experiences. Strangely, it stirred something inside him.

Was it anger? Disgust? He didn't know, but he didn't like it.

"Some of these scars are from attempts on my life when I was just a child. After my father...disappeared, I had no guards to protect me. The others were inflicted upon me as gifts from Victoria."

Moving closer, Chantelle gestured towards a large scar that ran from Cazmus's chest up to his neck.

“This one?”

“I was seventeen when she gave me this one, I fought with Shazer, because he killed a servant of mine, Victoria wasn't too happy, so she had me tied up, hanging upside down in her dungeons for two weeks, and she'd come in anytime she was upset, and take it out on me.”

Cazmus couldn't fathom why he was revealing all of this to her, but the words spilled out nonetheless.

After all, she had shared her own story, so why not? "And here I thought I had it rough," she quipped as she moved away, leaving Cazmus watching her retreat. The moonlight painted her bronze skin with a radiant sheen, while her emerald eyes seemed to glimmer.

"Perhaps we're both struggling in our own unique ways," Cazmus remarked as he washed the blood from his body, cleansing himself of its stains."

"Yeah... you're right," she murmured, leaning against the brick wall and gazing up at the moon. Its gentle silver glow bathed her in soft light while the starlit sky hummed with the nocturnal chorus of creatures

Cazmus came to the realization that he had been overly harsh on her.

He had initially assumed that she was one of the servants of Victoria, sent to spy on him. The only reason he hadn't harmed her was because of a deal she had made, which seemed all too genuine to be false.

However, the truth was that she was just a young woman, struggling and in need of help, not just for her brother but for her own healing.

It was a relief for him to have someone around who could somewhat understand him. She didn't immediately assume that he had caused his own scars or that he was simply a man consumed by anger.

Chantelle's gaze fell upon a man whose eyes were filled with fear and sorrow.

As she observed him, she sensed his intense desire for freedom, and she empathized with his struggle.

She looked ahead to the prospect of understanding him better, despite the possibility that it would be futile in the end, as she wouldn't be among the living. Nevertheless, she found solace in the thought that, even in death, she would grasp the true emotions of that terrifying, tyrannical prince.

After all, they were just two individuals navigating their own paths of anguish.

"I should go check on the young master... he's been awfully silent."

Chantelle spoke, breaking the tense air, as she rose from the water, her bare body filling Cazmus's sight before he tore his attention away and turned to leave as well.

"I'm sure he's fine, the boy can handle himself. We just need to ensure your resting spot is comfortable enough."

She could hear the sounds of his weapons clacking as he pulled the belt around his waist, sheathing his sword. All she had was a simple dress and a coat to protect her from this frosty air. Once she felt it was safe enough she turned to face him.

"We are in the wilderness, My Lord, I do not expect to be comfortable, I fear not for my safety, for his highness and the young prince will be watching over me. You've done more than enough, if I may say so. I am grateful."

Cazmus gazed at her for a moment before shutting his eyes with a nod, he reached his hand out grabbing her to keep her close and they made their way back to the camp. "Once the sun rises, we will get back to our journey, you must rest plenty, do you understand?"

"Yes, your majesty."