neck.
Nala instinctually looked to Sayan for help. He was staring back at her with a stiff expression on his face and then looked away.
“ Are you sure you want to give her to me?” The Northern King asked the Western Prince.
He nodded.
The Northern King let out a loud, satisfying laugh. “I will take this generous gift of yours, Ce!” He turned to Nala with a hungry look in his eyes. He picked her up into his arms and planned to carry her away from the banquet.
There really was no other choice.
Nala pulled out a small dagger hidden in her heel and aimed it at the King’s neck. Sayan caught her wrist and squeezed it tightly until she was forced to drop the dagger. The King dropped her onto the ground and kicked her away. She reached for the dagger on the ground, but Sayan caught it first. He pinned her down to the ground, held the dagger high and stabbed it into her chest.
It didn’t hurt as bad as she previously thought. It was painful, but bearable. She looked up at Sayan, wanting to praise him for it with subtle smile, but she frowned instead. There was a painful expression on his face, as though he was the one being stabbed.
She spit out the blood that had gushed up from her stomach. She drew a deep breath before she let her heavy eyelids rest.
“ Sayan, what is the meaning of this?” The King demanded.
“ I suspected that the woman was an assassin disguised as a dancer, Your Majesty. That is the reason I have not presented her to you.” Sayan said without tearing his gaze away from her.
The King turned toward the Western Prince, demanding an explanation.
“ I will clean up this mess, Your Majesty.” Sayan picked her limp body up into his arms and carried her out of the banquet hall. General Malin and his men awaited him at the end of the corridor. He steadied his steps, and only when the door was closed behind him in his domain did he allow his consciousness to slip away.
The memory returned to him in his dream. He held the sharp dagger in his hand as he plunged it into her flesh. She screamed out, her sweet voice frantically begging him to spare her life. The four corners around him oozed out crimson blood, filling the room. The space was getting smaller. The blood was rising to his waist and then to his neck. He swam toward ceiling to keep his head above the surface. Blood completely filled the room, forcing its way into his lungs.
He bolted off the bed. Cold sweats drenched his body and soaked though his tunic. It was just a nightmare, but not all of it was dream. He searched the room for her. He could not think. He could not piece together fragments of simple thoughts. He shouted out her name repeatedly, until he heard a reply.
The door creaked open. A cloaked figure of a woman slipped in and quickly closed the door behind her. She pulled down the hood and smiled at him.
Nala!
She was standing in front of him.
Sayan ran to her and wrapped his arms around her small body. He held her tightly to make sure that she was real and not a dream.
“ Never make me do that again!” He shook his head. “I thought I’d killed you. I thought I’d taken your life with my own hands! Never again…never…”
“ I am immortal…”
His hands stripped off her cloak and undid her dress by pulling on the strings keeping it together at the shoulder. The fabric fell to her waist, exposing her full breasts. Her body was unscarred. The wound he inflicted was gone. He had to make sure. He had to see it for himself.
She pushed him away and wrapped her arms around her chest. “What do you think you are doing?”
He was a little confused at his own action, but he was even more confused at her reaction. Her cheeks flustered bright red. Is this the same woman who wanted to bathe in the desert spring while there were soldiers around? Shyness was the last word he would have used to describe her.
“ The cloak!” She shouted at him.
He picked up the cloak and handed it to her. She snatched it from him
Nala instinctually looked to Sayan for help. He was staring back at her with a stiff expression on his face and then looked away.
“ Are you sure you want to give her to me?” The Northern King asked the Western Prince.
He nodded.
The Northern King let out a loud, satisfying laugh. “I will take this generous gift of yours, Ce!” He turned to Nala with a hungry look in his eyes. He picked her up into his arms and planned to carry her away from the banquet.
There really was no other choice.
Nala pulled out a small dagger hidden in her heel and aimed it at the King’s neck. Sayan caught her wrist and squeezed it tightly until she was forced to drop the dagger. The King dropped her onto the ground and kicked her away. She reached for the dagger on the ground, but Sayan caught it first. He pinned her down to the ground, held the dagger high and stabbed it into her chest.
It didn’t hurt as bad as she previously thought. It was painful, but bearable. She looked up at Sayan, wanting to praise him for it with subtle smile, but she frowned instead. There was a painful expression on his face, as though he was the one being stabbed.
She spit out the blood that had gushed up from her stomach. She drew a deep breath before she let her heavy eyelids rest.
“ Sayan, what is the meaning of this?” The King demanded.
“ I suspected that the woman was an assassin disguised as a dancer, Your Majesty. That is the reason I have not presented her to you.” Sayan said without tearing his gaze away from her.
The King turned toward the Western Prince, demanding an explanation.
“ I will clean up this mess, Your Majesty.” Sayan picked her limp body up into his arms and carried her out of the banquet hall. General Malin and his men awaited him at the end of the corridor. He steadied his steps, and only when the door was closed behind him in his domain did he allow his consciousness to slip away.
The memory returned to him in his dream. He held the sharp dagger in his hand as he plunged it into her flesh. She screamed out, her sweet voice frantically begging him to spare her life. The four corners around him oozed out crimson blood, filling the room. The space was getting smaller. The blood was rising to his waist and then to his neck. He swam toward ceiling to keep his head above the surface. Blood completely filled the room, forcing its way into his lungs.
He bolted off the bed. Cold sweats drenched his body and soaked though his tunic. It was just a nightmare, but not all of it was dream. He searched the room for her. He could not think. He could not piece together fragments of simple thoughts. He shouted out her name repeatedly, until he heard a reply.
The door creaked open. A cloaked figure of a woman slipped in and quickly closed the door behind her. She pulled down the hood and smiled at him.
Nala!
She was standing in front of him.
Sayan ran to her and wrapped his arms around her small body. He held her tightly to make sure that she was real and not a dream.
“ Never make me do that again!” He shook his head. “I thought I’d killed you. I thought I’d taken your life with my own hands! Never again…never…”
“ I am immortal…”
His hands stripped off her cloak and undid her dress by pulling on the strings keeping it together at the shoulder. The fabric fell to her waist, exposing her full breasts. Her body was unscarred. The wound he inflicted was gone. He had to make sure. He had to see it for himself.
She pushed him away and wrapped her arms around her chest. “What do you think you are doing?”
He was a little confused at his own action, but he was even more confused at her reaction. Her cheeks flustered bright red. Is this the same woman who wanted to bathe in the desert spring while there were soldiers around? Shyness was the last word he would have used to describe her.
“ The cloak!” She shouted at him.
He picked up the cloak and handed it to her. She snatched it from him
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