The Fallen Princess

Eight

“Do you perhaps have a basin of water I could wash in before bed?” Zaria asked the prince as they walked back towards his tent. “A basin,” He scoffs, and she looks at him confused. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I entered that musty castle and realized that the humans did not have indoor plumbing.” He tells her and she is curious as to what ‘indoor plumbing’ is, but not willing to ask.

The prince peeks over at her and laughs. “Don't worry, you will see, soon.” he tells her, knowing what she is thinking and flicks her forehead. “Stop that.” She complains, rubbing the spot he flicked. “For now, there is a stream I can take you too. He says, changing directions and heading towards the woods.

“The water is not as chilly as I expected it to be.” Zaria tells the prince, stepping into the clear stream, and he nods, not really paying her any attention, while he works on untying his boots. He takes off his socks and places them neatly inside his boots and when he turns, he receives a blow to the face. “What the hell is this?” He pulls the wet fabric from his face.

“Sorry!” Zaria calls sheepishly. When the prince looks up, he realizes Zaria is wearing nothing but her under garments, and they are clinging to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. “What in God’s name are you doing!?” His voice reflected his sudden surprise, and he forces himself to look away. “I’m bathing.” She replies pointedly.

“Then why is your dress wet?” he asks, laying it out on a large piece of driftwood. “Well, I was thinking that I would try to wash it.” She shrugs, and he looks back over at her dumfounded. Unable to stop his eyes from wandering down her body, he looks aways again. “Then why not just keep it on?” He calls out to her and runs a frustrated hand through his dark auburn hair. “It was too tight.” she responds, and he lets out a laugh “that makes no sense.” he whispers to himself.

“How do you plan on getting back to the tent?” he asked, now sitting on a log, with his back to her. “I’ll wear the dress. What do you mean?” She answers, and he can hear her splashing in the moon-lit water, and it’s taking everything inside him not to turn around and take another look. ‘She is truly a work of art.’ he thought to himself grateful one of his best qualities is self-discipline. “She’s not wearing that back to camp, the dress is nearly translucent.” He grumbles picking up a stick and pushing pebbles around. “What was it that you said?” she asks, now standing behind him.

“Princess . . . why . . . . .” He takes a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “Technically I am no longer a princess, you can just call me by name, since I am a hostage.” She says, picking up her dress and taking to the river's edge to try and clean it. “You’re not really a hostage,” he starts “Oh, then am I free to go?” she taunts and his eyes snap over to her. “No.” he warns. “Then I’m a hostage.” she tells him, and he is just noticing the deep bruises that cover her back.

“I didn’t realize it was that severe.” Prince Callen walks over and gently brushes his finger over one of the bruises. She flinches away startled by his touch, “it's from that knight's armor.” she tells him and goes back to scrubbing her dress. He grows frustrated as it was likely not necessary for his knight to cause her such harm to keep her from running away. The constant sloshing from Zaria attempting to clean her dress is driving him mad, “That's enough,” he takes the dress and flings it into a tree.

“What are you doing?! That's the only clothes I have.” she tells him frustrated, getting up to grab her dress. “You’re not going to be able to wear that comfortably,” He grabs her arm to keep her from walking away, “here.” He removes his shirt and helps her into it. The longest part of his shirt touches just above her knee. “I will have some clothes mended to fit you until we are able to get you a new dress.” he tells her, and she nods “Thank you.” She says with a sincere smile.

It just now connects, that she is wearing the prince's shirt thus he has no shirt on, and her eyes flick downward and rake up his chiseled body, leaving a blush stain on her cheeks and prince Callen grins at her, “That’s exactly how I felt earlier.” he tells her, making her blush further.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to walk around like that.” Zaria asks, peaking up at his back as they make their way back to the camp. “Hold on little elf . . .” He stops walking and looks back at her. “Your” he points at her, “asking me” he points to his chest, “if I am allowed to walk around like this?” She nods, as he laughs. “Are you not the one that stripped down to literally nothing, in front of a man you don’t know, without even a word of warning?”

“I was dirty!” Zaria explains, defending herself, “is that not what you and your men do when you are dirty?” she asks, crossing her arms “You are not a man!” He almost shouts but quiets down, not wanting to cause a scene. “I don’t know your circumstances,” he starts "but it is not safe for you to do that here.” He tells her, and she glares at him.

“Are you implying that I am the sort of person that would just strip down in front of any man?” she asks appalled, and the prince just stares at her, not knowing how to reply to that. Prince Callen takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how your brother has done this his whole life.” He mumbles under his breath as he begins walking again.

“To answer your original question, yes, I can do as I please here, princess, this is my camp, and all of these men are under my command.” He tells her, bringing an end to the discussion. “Prince Callen,” a man calls out and jogs over to him as the two of them approach the tent. “We wanted to verify the schedule with you before shift change.” the man advised, just noticing Zaria standing partially hidden by the prince.

The knight's eyes move over her greedily and Callen steps so that she is completely out of sight. “I’ll meet you at the barracks tent in 10 minutes,” he commands. “Yes Prince Callen.” The man says obediently and turns to walk away. “Oh and send someone to my tent who can sew.” He orders and the knights gives him a tight nod.