A/N: (my normal pre-chapter ramblings) Another chapter. I hope to have another Prank War 2 chapter up soon as well. I thank you all for your reviews. Xan, Vallen, if you're reading this, can you find a place for this on your group webpage? Please? Oh, and I don't know exactly when this will be finished, but hopefully soon. I have two unfinished stories in the SSBM section, one in the LOZ section, and I'm planning on making a sequel to this one....about Roy!
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A servant awoke Kyree early the next morning. Though sleepy, she could still detect a sense of urgency in the girl's face. "Something wrong?" she asked, trying to rouse herself fully.
The servant girl nodded. "You're needed in the prince's apartments as quickly as possible. I don't really know what it's about, but it sounds serious." She looked nervously at the floor. "You will go to him, won't you?"
Fear gripped Kyree suddenly. Had his condition grown worse? "Of course. Let me get dressed." The young maid merely nodded again and left. No sooner had Kyree hurriedly dressed and pulled her auburn hair back, she practically flew through the halls, only stopping at Marth's bedside. She stopped, panting, and dropped a rushed curtsey. "I'm here, Highness," she murmured.
He smiled upon noticing her. "Kyree," he said in an almost whisper, "I already told you that wasn't necessary."
She did not respond, but asked the doctor, who was standing nearby, "What is it?"
"The wound across his right shoulder has become infected. I received the prince's permission to let you help treat him."
"I have something in my room used for treating infections. I'll be right back." She dashed back to her room, retrieved a small wooden chest filled with herbs and potions, then hurried back to Marth. Kyree opened the chest and took out a tiny amber-colored bottle. "Should I apply it, or would that embarrass you? " she asked Marth.
"Go ahead. I couldn't care less." He closed his eyes, lying back against his pillows.
Kyree opened the neck of his nightshirt and examined the wound in question. It was one of the worst ones the prince had sustained. It ran diagonally from shoulder to chest; the dagger that had caused it had barely missed his heart. This was truly an ugly wound, now swollen and dark. Though it had already begun to heal, Kyree reopened it. She had been taught not to let an infected wound close. Marth winced in pain, but made no sound. Kyree dabbed at the now-open wound with a damp cloth, removing the pus and dried blood. It was an unpleasant sight, but she'd been trained not to be disgusted by anything she might encounter while healing patients. She dripped a bit of the bottle's contents onto the wound, then gently rubbed it in. Marth gripped her free arm tightly, but remained silent. Glancing at the doctor, Kyree saw him nod at her in approval, a wordless way of saying "Keep going, you're doing the right thing." Once she'd rebandaged the wound, the doctor spoke.
"Your training up to this point appears to be even better than I thought. Excellent work."
Kyree beamed at this praise. Turning to Marth, she asked, "Is anything else troubling you, Prince Marth?"
"Just 'Marth'," he replied. "And no, nothing that I know of."
"Your skin feels unnaturally warm. I think you have a fever." Kyree pressed her hand to his forehead. "Far too warm," she remarked, mostly to herself. She watched the doctor repeat what she had done.
"Fever," he said simply in agreement. He then proceeded to dose Marth with an odd-smelling medicine that caused him to make a repulsed face and apply a cool, wet cloth to his forehead.
"Thank you," Marth whispered. "I have no further need for you at the moment. If she isn't doing anything important, though, Kyree may stay if she wishes."
The doctor grinned. "I understand. I'd hardly expect you to prefer my company to that of a pretty young lady." With that remark, he exited.
Marth smiled at a blushing Kyree. "He's right. You're very pretty."
"Thank you," she replied, wondering if it was only feverish nonsense or, as she hoped, he truly meant it. "Do you want me to sit here with you?"
"Please. I would appreciate your company." He peered into her face. She seemed so honest, so caring, like someone he could tell his deepest secrets to. Perhaps it was time he let out all that had been gnawing at his soul for so long. "Kyree, can I speak to you in strictest confidence? So much has been bothering me, but I feel I would be ridiculed if I revealed everything."
"I will not repeat anything you do not want me to," she assured. "What's troubling you?"
"In spite of all that's happened, I've tried to appear strong, but the truth is, I'm aching inside. Keeping it to myself is only making it worse."
"If you know it would make you feel better, why didn't you talk to someone?"
"Kyree, everyone looks to me to be strong and in control. If the people knew how helpless I felt, they might lose hope. I'm living only for Altea now. Besides, I was never allowed to show emotion, from an early age. I was severely reprimanded by my father every time he thought I hadn't restrained my feelings. I began to try to all feelings from coming. Even now, that almost never works, so I keep them to myself. It's not that I care so much about my dignity as others do at this point. It's become a habit now, I've done it so much. Besides, I don't want to burden anyone with my despair. Things are bad enough already." He paused, breathing deeply.
"Do you feel better confessing that much?"
"A bit. Nothing could ever take away what I've been through, though. Everyone and everything I've ever loved has been taken from me. Day after day, I watch my people suffer, and no matter what I do, it's never enough. Memories haunt me hour after hour. I'll probably never know joy again. Sometimes I've felt so hopeless I wanted nothing more than to die. To make it worse, I can't tell anyone....I can't even cry unless I'm sure I'm alone..." He tried to stop a choked sob, but it came out anyway. He began crying, no longer caring who was watching.
Kyree shushed him, wiping the tears from his face. "It's all right. You can cry all you need to. I understand. It's better to let your feelings out every now and then. Even a prince should be allowed to cry." She smoothed his hair. "Try not to get too excited, though," she instructed. "It won't do your health any good."
"Please don't mention this to anyone. Promise?"
"I promise," she said softly. Marth looked more at ease with that, and he closed his eyes once more. He gently took Kyree's hand in his, then pressed it to his cheek.
"Will you stay, even if I go to sleep?" he asked, fatigue obvious in his voice.
"Unless I'm needed elsewhere, yes," she assured. Within minutes, Marth fell into an exhausted sleep. Too much emotion at once had apparently taken its toll on the weakened prince.
Perhaps a half hour later, the doctor returned. Seeing the prince sleeping, he turned to leave once again, but Kyree stopped him. "You don't think he's...going to die, do you?" she asked, barely able to express the fear she'd had since she woke.
"If his wounds do not worsen and the fever goes down, he should live. All we can do now is wait and hope. I will be back after a little while, but if you need me, by all means send for me." He left once more, leaving Kyree alone with Marth.
She lifted the arm he'd left dangling off the bed. Placing it by his side, she gently stroked the back of Marth's hand before letting go. Changing her mind, she took it in hers again, feeling the strong yet soft fingers and hoping she was comforting him even as he slept. "Please live, for Altea....and for me," she whispered, wishing with all her heart for the well-being of the man who had quickly become so dear to her.
