Helen faded in and out of consciousness for hours. She remembered the man, throwing the knife at her father. She remembered stepping in front of him. She remembered the pain of the knife as it struck her side.
She remembered passing out.
As she was unconscious, more memories from the past came to mind.
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She remembered when she was little, how one night a man picked her up out of her crib. She felt it could’ve been her father, but he didn’t have a beard at the time, and his chin was smooth But this man’s chin was rough and prickly with a beard.
His hands were rough as he picked little Helen up, and she shivered as they walked into the cold night air.
Then there was the bump bump, bump bump, as they rode on a horse, Helen clutched to the man’s chest.
The horse must’ve tripped on something because Helen flew out of the man’s arms, and hit the ground hard. She started to cry, but it was quiet compared to the other horses galloping around her.
“Where is she?” came a shout.
“Leave her! She’s no longer our problem.”
Helen cried as the horses galloped away, leaving her in the dark and the cold. Leaving her alone.
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Helen woke up in a different pink bedroom, the walls a different shade of pink, and there was a crib to her right. A…nursery?
Helen looked over and saw Richard slumped over in a chair, snoring once again. His eyes were pink and puffy, and a little drool was on his chin.
Helen tried to get up, and immediately regretted it.
Her side flared with pain, like needles piercing her side, and she looked to see the bandages around her waist were filling with blood.
Helen gasped and immediately laid back down, arching her back in pain.
Richard was at her side in a moment, looking at the blood soaking the bandages.
“Oh no,” he said quietly and ran out of the room.
A moment later, he came back with what looked like a doctor.
“Hello, I am Dr. Goodwell,” the doctor said, inspecting Helen’s bloody bandages.
“Did you try to move?” Dr. Goodwell asked, and Helen nodded through the searing pain that was shooting through her chest at the moment.
“You must have ripped open the stitches.” The doctor thought, then ordered Richard to get an herb that would help the pain.
Dr. Goodwell began to take off her bandages, revealing that they’d cut Helen’s tunic in half before getting to the wound. Helen didn’t mind, but felt slightly embarrassed that Richard could see her bare chest. It was covered in blood and the doctor began to pour some alcohol on the wound after Richard had given her the herbs, which tasted bitter.
It stung where the doctor had poured the alcohol on, and it began to fizz. The doctor pulled out a needle and thread and told Helen to bite down on a piece of leather as he stitched her up. The stitching didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the wound had, but Helen closed her eyes as she endured the pain.
When Dr. Goodwell was done, he looked at Helen’s face which was now free of pain. “You are very lucky. The knife missed anything vital and didn’t penetrate all the way through your torso. You should be alright with a few days’ rest, but you cannot get up.” Dr. Goodwell now looked at Richard, whose face was pale. “You need to watch her and make sure she does not move unless you have my permission. Okay?”
Richard nodded, and sat down in the chair next to Helen’s bed. He carefully put the covers back over Helen, who was grateful to cover her cold body.
Richard sighed, shaking his head. He was silent for a few minutes, just staring at the wall.
“What’s the matter?” Helen’s eyebrows knit in concern.
He shook his head again, before finally admitting, “We…lost your pulse for a few minutes. Helen, do you…do you know what that means?”
Helen shook her head. No, she didn’t know what that meant.
“Helen…” Richard said, still shaking his head, “I don’t know what happened, but…it…it seemed like you…died.”
Helen felt the shock wash over her and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. “W-what?”
“But I don’t know,” Richard said, putting his hands up defensively, “You…really scared us for a bit. I thought I lost you. And I felt so…so guilty. Like it’s-like it’s all my fault.” He shook his head again, bowing it in shame. “It’s all my fault…”
“No, it’s my fault.” Helen protested, reaching over to touch Richard’s hand. “I was the one who got in the way of the knife. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just… acted.”
Richard looked up at her now, suddenly a smile on his face. “You’re a real wonder, Helen. You’re always putting others' needs before your own. How could anybody be so selfless?” He stood and kissed her forehead, then sat back down. “Just please…don’t ever do that again.”
Helen laughed at that but winced when it sent pain through her side. “Trust me, I won’t.”
Richard smiled a little, his face truly happy for once. His dark eyes which were usually filled with sadness were alight with a new emotion, something brighter in his eyes. But then there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Helen said softly, and the door opened to reveal her father.
As much as Helen hated that he had ignored his people and given them away to the revolutionaries, she had been the one to step in front of the knife and save her father. And she still loved him.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” her father said, his deep blue eyes were no longer faded as they’d been in the throne room, and he didn’t seem like he was in a daze.
“Hold on,” Richard said, standing between Helen and her father, “You need to first explain to us what in the name of Dominic is going on with these revolutionaries. What did they mean by Dueglestein is raiding their villages? You have the Duelgesteiners at your front door yet you will not help us? Why do you-”
“Richard,” Helen interrupted, trying her best to be seen. Richard turned around, his expression angry but softened when he looked at Helen.
“Let it go,” Helen explained, motioning for Richard to leave the room and give them some privacy. Richard rolled his eyes, muttering something about doing what the princess says, but he left the room.
“Helen,” her father said kindly, sitting on the edge of her bed, “I’m sorry about what happened in the throne room, I truly am. This is all my fault and you were the one who got hurt. You could’ve been killed, and I was just being passive about it. I should’ve been a better leader, I just…” her father trailed off, rubbing the back of his head, “I-I don’t know what came over me.”
Helen reached for her father’s hand and grasped it gently. “I forgive you, father. More than you’d ever know, I forgive you. For everything.”
Her father’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he turned away, covering his eyes as he cried a little bit.
“Thank you, Helen, you…you have no idea how much that means to me. Something’s been…wrong with me lately, it-it’s like my head is trying to tell me to do one thing, and my heart says another.”
“It’s alright, father,” Helen comforted him, gripping his hand, “It’s alright to do what your heart tells you to.”
“No, you-you don’t understand.” Her father said, and he lowered his hands and looked at her. His eyes were faded again as if he were blind. “There is…something wrong with me, Helen, something that is-is messing with my head.” He started to laugh like a lunatic, gripping Helen’s hand tighter. “They…told me to give my daughter to them, but I couldn’t do that, you’re my daughter, after all…”
His grip was so tight on her wrist that Helen cried out in pain. Richard was right outside the door, and he burst into the room, and tried to get her father away from Helen.
That was when Helen’s father passed out...
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