Haunted didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling. His father was torturing him even from the grave. The grave he didn't even give them. This feeling, it was definitely the worst feeling ever- but he was far more fearful of the next step. When he stopped caring. When he grew numb to what he had done. That's when he could never truly return. He never wanted to slip that far, so he clung onto the pain, the grief, the regret. He let himself feel it for fear that if he didn't, he wouldn't ever again. He knew someone like that, someome so far gone they didn't feel. He almost got killed by that someome, because they truly didn't care. It was just another body on the bloody pile. They didn't remember, or even know, the names of the people they had killed. He would never succumb to that. He would mourn each loss. But he couldn't let it destroy him, like it was now. It was ripping him apart from the inside, clawing it's way through his very soul and leaving it in tattered pieces. He didn't want to think of what he had just started, rest of the deaths forgotten. Just the king. It was the KING... and the next in line to the throne was Phoebe. That put her in enough danger as to where he was reminded yet again that he was hurting more than he helped. From what he could gather, she didn't even want to rule, and he just threw everything to hell. He was truly lost.

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Rhys couldn't muster up the energy to look at Phoebe, much less speak. The hollow feeling inside of him that was growing was so much worse than the pain. Like an endless hole had opened up in his soul and nothing could patch it. He refused to allow himself to shed more than one tear, but that one carried all the weight of his thoughts, the blood on his hands, the hopelessness he was feeling. He was surprised the tear itself wasn't tainted black. He could assure himself that he wasn't fully gone yet, that he was still worthy of love, but was it true? And not of Phoebe. He would never be worthy of her light. It was too bright. Too perfect. He was drawn to the light at the same time his shadows recoiled. He couldn't live like that.

.

Rhys had been slowly slipping away, desperately trying to scramble back up the slope but falling deeper anyway, when he felt a slight pressure on his hand. That may have been the singular thing that saved him that day, however insignificant it looked. His name rolling off of her tongue sealed the deal. He couldn't let himself get ripped away when he still had a promise to her. He couldn't protect her if he was dead. If he let this overcome him, he would be just as bad as everyone else. His head lifted the slightest bit in faint surprise as she sort of wrapped her arms around him, failing to fully commit, hesitating like he might bite if she tried anything. A strangled laugh slipped past his lips, startling even himself. It was completely uncalled for in this time, specifically because of his thoughts in the last five minutes, but he couldn't stop it. "You're hilarious." He managed to mutter before a tired smile crept onto his face. She had to be the only person who could do this. Make him smile and laugh. At all. He had barely smiled since the day his father said he didn't deserve to, because honestly, he believed it. Yet she managed to wrangle it out of him anyway.

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His eyes closed for a brief moment as she spoke again and he managed a slight nod. "Agreed." He mumbled. He would love to stop thinking. If only his Hyperthymesia didn't have every bad memory ever running through his mind in vivid detail. If only he had made the right decisions. He mulled over her very last words, his mind observing them from every angle before he spoke. "I believe you, princess. Only you." If she said everything would be fine, he had no choice but to jump in blindly, because she was the only person he could trust now. He hadn't had that for so long, that now that he got it... he was going to keep it.

Phoebe Nightlingale

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Phoebe froze for a brief moment when he called her hilarious, confusion and surprise written all over her expression. It took her a few seconds, which was certainly far too long, to realize he was laughing at her hesitance to embrace him like a normal human being would. For the briefest of moments, her cheeks turned a light pink from embarrasment, her worries and concerns vanishing for a short while; she was being ridiculous right now.. There was simply no way Rhys would have rejected her touch without a valid reason, especially when he had just killed for her. She scolded herself mentally before she relaxed fully, her grip on him not as hesitant nor uncertain as it was before. To the best of her ability, she tried to not get too comfortable, but she still found herself almost pressing against his side as her chin hovered over his shoulder. She was a little sideways beside him so the angle was a little awkward, but who really cared at this point. Her heart warmed at his words, relief flooding over her when he said he believed her. It would seem she had suceeded in easing him out of whatever thoughts were troubling him and that was all that mattered to her.. along with his wounds, of course.

Phoebe remained where she was for a long while, her eyes even closing for a few moments as she simply relaxed and found peace in the moment despite everything that had and was probably going to happen. Right now, she knew she just had to focus on Rhys, the one person she had left; she wouldn`t argue about that necessarily.. Besides, he was quite literally the only person she had ever had throughout her life so far. A sigh escaped her as she opened her eyes again, her brows furrowing as she looked down at his wound. It still looked as nasty as it had before, but the stitches were definitely helping with minimizing the bleeding. That was good.. very good; there was still the problem of his blood loss, but he seemed to be pushing through it just fine. Of course, there was the possibiltiy that he was hiding just how much of a struggle it was to hold on, and she had a feeling that was probably the case.

``It would seem we`ll be able to watch more sunsets together,`` she mused softly, hoping her words would lighten the mood just a little more. Phoebe had recalled the way he had looked at her when he told her to find someone else, how desperately he needed to know she wouldn`t hold herself back from being happy just because of him. Even if he hadn`t made it, she knew it was only Rhys she would ever want to watch sunsets with. His presence made the simplest of things far more beautiful and meaningful, every word and action he made towards her was always cherished in her heart and mind.. Rhys was special and eternally irreplacable, even if she probably would never convey it properly or confess it aloud. She had always been warned to not get too attached to anyone since she would be a target for her entire life, no matter what she did; anyone she befriended could betray her, turn their back on her just to take advantage of her willingness to be vulnerable and kind. Yet.. Rhys was an exception and she had known it ever since the first time they had become close.

``And I won`t have to find someone else,`` Phoebe added, her voice almost.. humorous. She truly had found the idea of replacing him ridiculous.. He probably felt the same way towards her anyways, right? A friend- the only friend one had- surely meant the world to oneself, so much so that risks were no longer risks but minor obstacles they had to face for that one person to be okay, alive and happy. She closed her eyes again, this time her chin resting ever so lightly on his shoulder; of course, it was his uninjured one. Everything felt oddly perfect right now, despite everything Phoebe tried her best to ignore the fact that she knew both their lives were about to change, whether it be for the worst or for the best.. only time would truly tell.

Phoebe Nightlingale

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Phoebe had never felt this safe and at peace before, even with everything that would eventually be weighing the both of them down. She had wondered what would happen if someone stumbled upon them like this, settled incredibly close to each other as they ignored all the terrible things that had happened and would inevitably happen. Her mind raced as she realized that they would have to somehow fabricate a story behind what had happened, especially if someone sees them right outside the room where she presumed her father and the General were both dead, cold and untouched ever since they drew their last breath. It didn`t help that it would be easy to associate Rhys with what happened since he was injured himself.. no one would brush it off as a coincidence, unfortunately. It was his words about the sunsets and how she didn`t have to find someone else that sucessfully distracted her from her thoughts.

``I want you to be happy too,`` Phoebe whispered quietly in response, her voice conveying just how much she meant those words. If it was even possible, she would do anything to make Rhys` life easier than it currently was; when she inevitably became queen, she could potentially do something, but that would easily draw suspicion, right? She silently cursed whoever decided to create the divide between servants and royals, knowing full well that everyone was equal and, most importantly, simply human. There was nothing that made a servant mean less or more unimportant.. simply nothing did. This peace between them was so prominent that she also felt the urge to relax and slip into a peaceful slumber, even if her circumstances were the exact opposite of his. If he even so much as closed his eyes for a little too long, she knew that she would shake him until he woke up, moved, or even grumbled to tell her to back off.

``I never even got to thank you,`` Phoebe spoke again, her voice a little louder this time and almost.. regretful. When he had left her there at the fountain, she hadn`t managed to verbalize just how important Rhys was to her. If he hadn`t made it through this, she would have torn herself apart over it in more ways than one. She shifted her chin just a little on his shoulder to try and meet his gaze, wanting to stare into those dark eyes that probably no one else understood just as much as she did. Truth was, she still could still herself staring into the secretly colorful depths of his eyes for hours.. maybe even days; they were that infatuating and beautiful to her. ``I`m very grateful I got to know you and will keep getting to know you. You`ve done so much for me and.. I hope one day I can do something for you as well. And.. I hope you never forget that you`ll always be my friend, no matter what.``

Anyone would have called her a fool for the last few words that left her mouth, but she had meant it with her whole being. Rhys wasn`t replacable, period; no matter what he did or what he said, she would always try to understand and see the rationolization behind it. She believed with all her heart that Rhys was not a monster, but simply a human that was dealt a terrible hand at life. Phoebe wanted to make things easier for him and she would, in one way or another. She figured he would tell her that her presence was more than enough, that her efforts to understand and simply.. see him for he truly was would be more than enough, but she still wanted to do so much more for him. Phoebe didn`t really know how yet, but she would, one day.

Rhys stared at the ceiling, head resting against the hard wall as he let his thoughts meander. He didn't think he'd ever feel this way. He would truly do anything to protect her, and he hadn't ever felt like that about anyone before. He would throw away his life in a second to put himself in whatever danger heading towards her. Although it was a feeling he wasn't used to experiencing... he liked it. It meant that someone was important enough for that. His mind wandered to a memory permanently seared into his mind from mere hours ago, her bright blue eyes flashing behind his own. For once, he was thankful for the hyperthymesia. It would assure he remembered those eyes forever. As he pulled his mind away from that, he thought about how this would look to anyone who stumbled upon them. Maybe he could distract them with the copious amounts of blood. Or maybe he should try and hide that blood. He could toootally pretend he hadn't just been stabbed by the king and retaliated. Right? He kind of had to. As soon as someone found out about this, he was either dead or hidden, so he would prefer the second. He wasn't struggling to stay awake just to be killed by an angry royal. He would love to dispose of the bodies- burying them, of course- but... he couldn't. Even digging a single grave was hours worth of work when completely healthy. But something would have to be done. He wagered a couple hours couldn't hurt, and after that, if he wasn't dead, he could go try to be and dig a couple Graves. He wasn't making the mistake of not doing that again.

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He slowly dragged his gaze to hers the best he could when she whispered that she wanted him to be happy too. It should've sounded normal, but no one had ever said that. No one had cared enough to give a flying pigeon about his happiness. He watched her for a moment before humming lowly. "It isn't hard to make me happy. You manage to do it every time you smile." He pointed out in a slow, matter of fact sort of way, his lips twisting up into what could've been called a smirk. Without anyone trying to make him happy, it would never take much. He had learned to enjoy the simple things in life- like fishing- but her smile was anything but simple and so much better. Her laugh was even better, though he had yet to hear a real, actual laugh. He would stay alive just to be around for that day.

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His eyebrows furrowed slightly, head tilting a little as he tried to figure out what she could possibly thank him for. After racking his brain for a solid five seconds, he came up hopelessly blank. He hadn't done anything worth thanking for. He could thank her for just existing, but he should have to do much more to earn her thanks, and he didn't think he had done anything. Knowing himself, he guessed he was overlooking an important small detail, but he didn't know what that was. He glanced at her when she shifted slightly, blurry gaze slightly questioning. It was a relief to see, actually see, those blue eyes again, and he was convinced he could drown in them much like in the ocean. The quiet confusion cleared when she did speak, his eyes softening slightly. He didn't wait very long to respond this time, like he would usually. No need to think up a response. He had one. "You're doing everything you can for me by just being here. And more for literally saving my life by stitching me up." He paused, wanting to seperate that from the next thing he decided to say. "I don't know if you'll ever quite understand how much that means to me, but that doesn't matter. I can confidently call you my friend, one I am glad to have, and will do my best not to lose." He tended to suck at not losing friends, but this time, he was a bit more determined. He wasn't a 12 year old with raw eyes from crying anymore. He could do something about life, and his decision was to do everything in his power to not only keep Phoebe safe but provide a companion when she wanted one and someone to watch the sunsets with.

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His words had come out as his usual did; soft yet firm, the truth all the way. He may not speak much- actually, he had been speaking way more lately- but when he did, he meant what he said. Always. He would never lie to her, or even say something he didn't completely believe. He owed that much to her. He wanted to somehow let her know how much she truly meant to him, but as usual with these things, he had no clue how. So he didn't speak, at least until pressing matters snuck their way into his mind again.

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"I believe it would be smart to move." He started slowly, glancing at the floor, dark with blood. Rhys restrained himself from saying he'd clean that up soon, because she would probably throw a fit. Still, he would have to. There was no other option. He couldn't have anyone else clean it up, and he sure as hell wasn't letting her. His heart dropped slightly when he realized his quarters were all the way on the other side of the castle, and he knew that there was no way he'd make it there. Maybe he could find an abandoned storage closet. Honestly didn't sound like a bad idea. This thought in mind, he slowly drew up one knee to get his leg partially ready to stand, that mere movement sending pain through his whole system. His fingers twitched and he paused, deciding to reluctantly take a moment to compose himself before he tried to stand.

Phoebe Nightlingale

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The words that Rhys had directed for her and her alone had meant the world to her, even if their conversation seemed almost.. normal, in nature; surely during rough times anyone would convey how much their friends meant to them, right? It made sense to her, at the very least, especially since Rhys had been on death`s door recently, which she truly was grateful towards her instincts for. She should have followed after him as soon as he vanished from her view, but then again.. she figured it was probably best that she had not seen what he had done and saw all the blood and gore that was in the royal study. Truth be told, she had barely tolerated the sight of Rhys` blood, but she had done so for his sake over her own. It was not lost on her how quickly he responded to her grateful words, her eyes almost piercing as she clung onto every word he told her. She felt warmth spread through her when he referred to her as his friend, something that she found herself wanting to hear constantly even if it was just a simple phrase; to her, it was anything but simple- it was everything to her. Everything felt right as silence stretched on between them again, her breathing steady and body oddly relaxed.

Rhys was the one person she truly never wanted to disappoint nor upset in any shape or form. He was the one person that tolerated all her imperfections- maybe even admired and enjoyed them in a familiar way- and had never let her down. He made her feel safe and wanted in the ways her own father had always failed to do, so much so it further fueled her unwavering belief that servants were probably more human than royals themselves. The servants had a genuine community here, based on her own knowledge and observations, while the royals also had one.. but theirs was riddled with lies, drama, and politics. One wrong word could cause a royal to not wake up the next day, having been murdered by someone else out of something as simple as annoyance. It was sad, but it was true. She wondered what it would be like to actually be a servant, silently comparing what she presumed it to be like to her own life. It was definitely more physically taxing than being a royal, but the emotional and mental strain.. basically nonexistent. She truly would have done anything to escape her father`s clutches sooner, even if knowing he was dead still stung a little bit. Nothing could change the fact that he was her father.. nothing.

Phoebe`s thoughts, as always, were interrupted when Rhys suggested they move, which made perfect sense. She had alerted the nurses by showing up in the medical wing covered in blood that wasn`t hers; she was actually more surprised by the fact that the castle seemed silent, as if the nurses had not even bothered to tell someone about what they had seen. She wouldn`t complain, for now at least; if it had been under any other circumstances and the nurses had failed do to their job, then she would have a problem.. a big one. A sigh escaped her as she nodded in agreement, her arms falling to her sides as she let go of him. She savored the sensation of holding him close, however, engraving it into her memory just in case she ever needed a reminder. Her blue eyes shone with concern when he drew up on one knee, biting her lip nervously. There was no way she wasn`t going to help him stand up. Phoebe shifted backwards a little before she hoisted herself up onto her own feet, leaning over to help him the best way she could. She offered him her hands to take if he needed extra support, knowing how badly that wound was probably still hurting. It was then that she realized they both probably had no idea where they were going to go, but she did remember her original idea: her room. It would be absolutely terrible if anyone caught Rhys in there, but it was closest and far better than any of the other rooms nearby. Besides, no one ever entered her room.. not unless she ordered someone to; her parents and other royals seldom knocked, not wanting to bother her in the one place she was shielded from the outside world.

``We can go to my chambers. It`s nearby and no one should go near it, at least for the night,`` Phoebe offered as she watched him slowly stand up, her expression darkening a little at the way he was clearly struggling. She hated watching him like this, seeing him in so much pain. Even if he said no to her suggestion, she would be content knowing that she had at least tried. She didn`t even mind if he was still bleeding just a little; her blankets and pillows were easily replacable.. but he wasn`t. Phoebe waited for his response as she distracted herself a little, allowing her gaze to sweep from one end of the hallway to the other. The royal study was down the hall from her room, which meant it would probably take less than.. thirty steps to get there, she presumed.

Rhys was glad she had come when she did, he just realized. If she would've come earlier, that would've definitely been so much worse, but on the other hand... she could've waited at that fountain for hours. He would be dead by then. It was literally the perfect timing, something that he found himself immensely grateful for. He knew that if she didn't show up within five minutes, he would've somehow went to the garden, even if it sealed his fate. He was pleased that he didn't have to try and die just to see her. As he watched her, he could practically see the way her eyes warmed at his words, and that was all the reaction he needed. As long as she was happy, he was happy, to put simply. Technically when she was happy she would smile, so that also reinforced his earlier comment.

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He absent mindedly thought about the first time he had ever seen Phoebe. It was a dark, overcast day. He, a mere child, much like her- just 14- was hauling waterbuckets back and forth to the many plants in the garden. She had been sitting on that fountain she was just a couple hours ago. Just staring into the water, humming quietly to herself. He had paused, almost amazed. He had been dressed in something that was supposed to be pants but got so tattered he tore it to make shorts and a loose shirt about 4 sizes too big. Scars had dotted every inch of his skin that was visible, even at such a young age. His black hair had been just slightly curly back then, instead of the wavy look it had now, but it had still fallen into his eyes and practically completely obscured his vision. He remembered tilting his head in utter confusion and fascination that someone could be so... unmarred. The light dress she had been wearing was perfectly sewn, unstained. Her hair was brushed through and looking like literal honey in the slight breeze. Rhys had been flabbergasted at how her skin practically glowed, completely free of blemishes that he could see. His mind did not understand this new person. A second later was when he realized three things. She was the princess, he had stopped so abruptly that the water had spilled out of his bucket and onto his legs, and there was a royal approaching with a scowl. "Get back to work, boy." They had spat. Their fingers had merely twitched and he was scrambling away. No way was he getting hit again.

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Rhys smiled faintly at the memory of his utter idiotic self when he was young. Oh, the little he knew about actual people. He could gut a deer and throw a knife into a rabbits eye, but he couldn't comprehend that someone could seem like they hadn't ever climbed a tree and fell out before. He had done that many times, but only broken bones twice. Good times. He had learned a lot over the years, but not a lot of it had been good. What he had learned was that people in the castle were cruel, he needed to keep to himself, and he needed to get his tasks done fast and first. Do it right or do it over, was his motto. Worked for everything. He had done it over as a boy, but now he was going to do it right with Phoebe. He wasn't going to let go. That was the mistake he made with everyone else. He had never held on tight enough. Never been strong enough to hold on tight enough. That had changed.

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Rhys wasn't planning on getting up slowly and prolonging the pain, so he placed his limbs where they needed to be beforehand. He didn't really want to go surging up just to tip over because he didn't have his feet under him. He glanced at Phoebe as she offered her hand, shaking his head slightly. "Don't wanna pull you over too." He stated lowly. Not that he didn't have faith she could help, but ... he weighed twice as much as her. It'd be like trying to pull up a bunch of sandbags. He made sure his tongue was in the back of his mouth as to not bite it off, then shoved himself off the floor. Immediate scorching pain. His vision went back and he all but slammed his back against the wall just to stay up and awake, blinking as he waited to be able to see again. A shudder ran through him as the throbbing increased. How could it possibly get worse? That - that wasn't fair. His fingers curled around the spot the wound was, throat bobbing as he swallowed. He could barely see the wall in front of them, so he waited a moment longer. A bit of blood leaked onto his hand, but not much could get through anymore. He finally opened his eyes again to peer painfully at the even blurrier walkway.

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It was a good thing Phoebe talked after the ringing in his ears had quieted slightly, because he could still barely hear her words. "I don't want to stain... anything." Even the bottom of his boots were bloody, from standing in a literal puddle of his own blood. A wave of nausea chose to slam into him at that instant, his knees almost buckling. "Nevermind. It's close isn't it? Let's go." He forced the words out, not convinced he could make it any farther. If the study was here, then her room should be nearby. Much closer than any other room they could find. All he wanted right now was to collapse. He narrowed his eyes at the floor, not liking the way it swam underneath his feet. He knew it wasn't reaaaally moving, but every one of his senses said it was. He finally pushed off of the wall slightly and waited for her to lead the way, one hand still braced against the wall, shaking slightly as he held himself up. He would fall over if he didn't have something to stagger along beside. Something very solid.

Phoebe Nightlingale

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She felt almost sheepish when Rhys shook his head, explaining he didn`t want to take her down with him. It would seem her concern for him had outweighed her logical thinking; Rhys was nearly double her height and also double her weight, so the possibility of him actually dragging her down with him was very high, unfortunately. Phoebe nodded once reluctantly, her chest tightening as she watched him struggle to his feet. She hated seeing him injured and in so much pain, especially when he had done it for her sake; the halls felt lighter now that she knew she didn`t have to worry about General Atius and her father. For a brief moment, her thoughts traveled to her poor mother, a woman that loved her husband despite everything she had seen him do to their daughter. Serene, her mother, had always fabricated excuses for Phoebe`s father, most of them being that he was simply stressed or he couldn`t afford to have his daughter mess up being his heir due to the current state of the country. Of course, Phoebe did believed her for the majority of her childhood until she had caught a glimpse of a real family. A daughter of a royal had messed up in public, apparently saying something that had been offensive to a different royal. Instead of hitting her and forbidding her to speak by pouring some foul liquid down her throat, the girl`s father had gently scolded her before apologizing to the offended individual. A glimpse, really, was all it really took for Phoebe to realize she was a pawn, nothing more and nothing less.

Rhys` strained, pained voice drew her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him entirely once again. She frowned at his words of him staining something in her room; she had been aware of that possibility, but she could care less. Besides, her chambers were lifeless and dull due to how little she spent in there to do something other than cry behind doors or sleep. Some blood stains might make it look even more foreboding, discouraging anyone from waltzing in there without a care in the world. Phoebe also knew that his shoes were going to lead a trail right up to her room, yet she figured she could handle it. Even if she was a royal, she knew how to clean a floor; her father often had her do it whenever the servants were too busy with more important things. Of course, she had zero experience with cleaning blood, however. Phoebe relaxed when he finally gave in, seeing the logic in her choice. Her room really was their closest option and was the better option compared to any of the other small, barely used rooms on this side of the palace. She didn`t even want to know how dirty those rooms were.. the servants weren`t allowed to touch them since her parents had said they were ancient.

Phoebe led the way quietly towards her room, her steps slow so that her pace matched Rhys`. She kept close to him, the space between them only a few feet just in case she had to help him. Seeing him struggle so much to just walk was painful to her, yet she remembered his words from before; if he so much as leaned on her a bit too much, she would definitely go straight to the floor, which would help neither of them.. at all. As they walked, she became more aware of the noises that were sporadically occuring in the hallway they were in; small gusts of wind from open windows, the faint sound of owls in the night, and even crickets.. It was oddly peaceful for a moment. Regardless, most of her focus was on Rhys and making sure he actually made it to the door of her room in the first place. Her calculation had been correct since it took them approximately twenty-two steps to reach the door of her room, said steps being very slow and careful. She glanced around before she unlocked the door and opened it, revealing the room that was uniquely hers. Once Rhys was inside, she slowly closed the door behind them and locked it, hoping they could truly relax now.

``You can rest on the bed,`` she offered, her voice gentle and quiet in her room. The room itself was dark, but the moonlight was filtering through the windows and making it bright enough for them to see most of the room. There was a lounge area in the center whilst off to the right was her actual bedroom, which the bathroom was connected to. The majority of the things in her room were made of wood unique to her country, all of them centuries old; her father did really enjoy old, ancient things.. If he didn`t want the bed, he could have the couch, but even then.. she didn`t like the idea of him being on such a cramped space. She continued to remain close to him, her hands ready if he needed just a little more help to make it to where he wanted to go.

Phoebe Nightlingale

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The mere idea of Rhys being on the floor while he was injured and clearly in so much pain did not settle right with her at all. Besides, he had already spent enough time bleeding all over the hallway before they had made it safely into her chambers. She frowned at his words, her own of protest dying on her tongue when he practically collapsed onto the couch. At the very least, he had went with the better option of the two, which brought her some relief. Regardless, she hadn`t missed the way he had looked at her room, almost inspecting it as if silently comparing his own quarters to her own. The difference was apparent, but even then.. Phoebe believed that a room was like a key to getting to know someone further, something that showed you how a person lived and carried glimpses of their personality. Even if her room wasn`t as colorful or heavily decorated as most of the other royals` rooms, it still had that elegant quality to it that told anyone that stepped inside what they needed to know: this wasn`t a normal royal`s room, but someone far more important. Once upon a time, her room had been just as colorful and blatantly expensive, but she had hated it so much that she had taken it upon herself to redo the entire interior of it. She simply didn`t want to have anything that made her seem as greed-driven and selfish as the others; she wanted to seem normal, even if the furniture within was still high-end.

A sigh left her as she quickly glanced over Rhys, making sure he was mostly on the couch and not in any kind of awkward position. Once she was content, she turned and headed into her room to enter the bathroom that was connected to it. She gathered a small pile of embroided rags before she went over to the sink, turning it on and ensuring that the water wasn`t too cold nor too hot. At the very least, she knew how to clean wounds.. in the most basic way possible, but surely it was better than letting the blood continue to dry and stick to his skin. Besides, she had stitched him up without even cleaning the wound beforehand, which probably wasn`t ideal. An expression of uncertainty flashed across her face, her thoughts drifting once again. Phoebe wondered if Rhys was aware that even she had her own rebelious stage when she had been a child; she hadn`t always been the most behaved and composed in regards of royals` children. She had gone on her own minature adventures in the gardens, gotten a few scrapes here and there, which always earned her a scolding of some kind. Yet, she would never do such a thing now. The memories of the assasination attempt were what kept her in these walls, keeping her here like a prison. No one knew who had done it and they had never been caught.. nor did anyone even bother to try and hunt the individual down. There had been no evidence, nothing to track down who it was. Phoebe hadn`t even seen them and she had been the sole survivor. It had been ironic in a twisted way, really, that the person`s target was the only one that had lived.

She shook her head to chase the memories away, focusing on getting the rags wet so that she could tend to Rhys. Her expression shifted into a more neutral one as she gathered them again, turning the sink and returning to where he was sprawled out on the couch. She didn`t say anything as she kneeled down beside him on the floor, laying down the extra rags before using one to gently clean off his injured shoulder. Phoebe knew she was going to have to go fetch actual medicine sooner than later, but for now she just wanted to clean his wounds and hopefully help him relax. They had both been through a lot that night and even she couldn`t wait to take a small nap, even if she doubted it would be possible for her to do so. As always, she paid careful attention to his reactions to the wet rag, occasionally switching it out for a clean one. She knew his blood was going to be all over the couch, but she didn`t care; his life was more important than a material thing.