The wounded

"We should have gone to the hotel! The man down there was staring at me as if I was robbing his room."

"What did you do the poor man?" He asked her in response to her outburst when he entered the room. He was right to conclude that she would have locked the door the moment she took the keys. When he unlocked it to open, he shut it back to escape the alarm clock she threw towards the door. Just when he opened it back again, she was poised next to the bed unapologetic of her actions. Stepping inside he understood she was venting her anger on the man because of him.

"He was not a poor man! Greedy you can say. I asked him for a room. He claimed he wanted the money to be paid first, I answered that you were right behind me but he refused to believe me!"

"And?"

"I snatched the first key my hands reached to. I didn't know it was you who came inside," her voice lowered in the last sentence, but not giving in to forgive him, for her next words, "You should have taken another room for yourself. Considering I am being 'difficult' for you."

"I am sorry Elle. I know you were hurting and you weren't listening to me, so I had to make that up. This... night wasn't supposed to go the way it did."

"Of course. I have turned more difficult for you to handle as I have confronted my thoughts with you." His heart ached hearing her to which he kept his mouth shut, after a pause she continued, "Find the girl in your own way and return her back to her family. Some have people to turn to than be a target of some unexplainable ploy."

The last line resonated their minds affecting them differently. Ella registered that her life would never demand normalcy without a reason, it bulleted through her intellect in such a way that she imagined her life in the solace of being away from the power play. Would she have been happier if she had listened to her mother and given up on the throne? In her heart she always knew she wouldn't sleep peacefully if she passed the power in wrong hands ready to use it for their own selfish reasons. If it was the birthright that could protect it from harm then she had this responsibility ever since she entered the world.

He could have ignored her jab but she deliberately placed him at a position he couldn't retort from. She was washing her face and soaking it dry from water, to pass it in the laundry bag, freeing her legs from her shoes she readied herself to get into her side of the bed, sleeping on the side that wasn't hurting her.

"You didn't dress your wound," Roy reminded.

"There is no wound to be dressed," she replied then added, "If you have one, the bathroom is available." He grimly routed the bathroom, searching for anything in the counters, available with a roll of cotton and an ointment for all types of wounds.

"The ointment is of our brand. I didn't know they were marketing it in such variety," he commented while carrying the items to the bed. She informed him, "The marketing team is engaged in selling off the medicines than any other products of ours."

"Well, we should test out the implications of our product then. Get up Elle, I need to dress your wounds."

"I said I don't have any."

"Now who is being childish and difficult?" he strutted, opening the cap of the medicine.

"You can't use me like that."

"When have I ever used you?"

"Ever since we met, you have been using me. Then again tonight."

"Would you like me to flaunt another beauty in my arms?"

She turned to him who was sitting on the other side of the bed, with the support of the pillow and playing with the medicines. Her expression crumpled slightly due to the rapid impact.

"Good lord Elle, stop being stubborn!" He let go of the medicine and cotton, taking her arm to put it around his neck, which she was pulling back but Roy sternly interjected, "This is no time to play with me Elle. The sooner you are fine the better."

"I am fine, Roy." She was complaining his insistent actions in doing everything on his own accord. Even now he was treating her like a broken toy.

"Take off your- No, let me help." He had her in hugging position around him, reaching for the ribbons tied together in the back. The complicated design confused Roy where to start until Ella helped him, "Just untie the top ribbon. The rest will come loose." He obliged, fascinated with the truth of her words.

"I was right, I know nothing about dresses."

"I don't wear salwars on daily basis." She answered as he started zipping down the chain after the ribbons. Her back was visible now with her bra being the only restraint from her completely unclad body.

"Is this what it's called? Salwars," he said the word testing in his mouth that described the dresses of the women of Middle-east. "I will be pulling it down. Tell me if you feel pain." He warned her before holding her dress in either of his hands, bringing it forward to pull it down. He had seen her before but even now his eyes were trailing anticipatingly as he bared her body inch by inch.

Ella shivered delightfully when he pulled it down to her cleavage, where his eyes were there the entire night. Reminded about it she peeped up to find his eyes concentrated on her body just like she expected, turning her timid under his gaze. He was pulling it further down to take a look at her breasts breathing up and down, staying there for a long time until his eyes caught the wound on her ribs.

She noticed his eyes turn rigid at the wound, until he pulled down the dress down to her feet, wrinkling it in the process. "It is too deep." He examined the wound which was bleeding and went unnoticed through the material of the dress.

"She must have reopened the wound." It was spot in the same place where she had been hurt previously near the church. Ella settled herself on her back, letting him do the dressing, for once she was glad she didn't have to tend it alone and what she was doubting was whether she should be used to him like this. She felt him cleaning the wound with a glass of water in one hand and the cotton dipped through another. After that he rubbed the ointment on the wound just below her left breast.

In between he started, "I am sorry if you felt used and taken advantage of. I didn't have anyone else in my mind who could do the job better than you."

"Keep your diplomatic excuses for others." She gave a croaked reply with her raised upper body close to him. "Sss... It's hurting..." She groaned when he pressured the cotton to close the wound.

"It's done." Turning his focus on her eyes he mentioned, "In our fight we are leaving out the important thing. The Prince has the girl in the castle itself. There is an underground basement he has made for her."

"You saw her?" She was shocked to hear that he had found her.

"I did. That is not all. She was working for the man. Apparently, Cora is a pearl farmer, working for the Prince as she told me she was busy when I asked what she was doing down there."

"If she was working for him then why hide her in the basement?"

"The exact question I asked her."

"Then what happened?"

"She said she was his wife. A marriage done in secret." Ella was confused by the turn of events, so much that her head was aching. He held her face whispering, "What's wrong?"

She wanted to open her mouth but no words left them, enclosing herself to the weakness surrounding her brain. Distantly she heard the familiar voice calling for her name where she was unable to respond back to. Losing herself she was lost in the same day that was giving her nightmares each day. The same girl appeared running beside her, where her little self was running too, playing and enjoying drawing figures in the wet sand.