Wings of Ambition Shackled by Fate

Valeria's head throbbed, and disorientation clouded her senses. Darkness surrounded her, punctuated by sharp stabs of pain radiating through her body. She blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy as if weighed down by exhaustion. Attempting to move, she let out a groan, the pain forcing her to remain still.

"You're finally awake," Asher's voice broke the silence, its gruff tone tinged with annoyance. "Took you long enough."

Her dry throat protested as she tried to speak. "Where… where are we? How long was I out?"

"The cave," he replied nonchalantly, his figure silhouetted by the flickering firelight as he sharpened his sword. "You've been unconscious for three days. We couldn't continue the journey with how badly you were injured."

His tone grated on her nerves. Three days? She had nearly died, and he was acting as if it were some minor inconvenience. Ignoring her growing irritation, Valeria tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her torso, drawing a whimper from her lips. As she glanced down at herself, her eyes widened in shock.

The upper half of her dress had been pulled down, revealing layers of bandages wrapped around her chest and stomach. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Did you—did you undress me?!" she shrieked, her voice a mixture of indignation and horror.

Asher stood and walked toward her, his expression as calm as ever. "You were almost eaten by a wolf, and that's what you're worried about?" he said, annoyance lacing his words. He crouched beside her and helped her sit up despite her protests. The blankets beneath her did little to cushion the hard cave floor. "You had deep claw wounds on your chest and stomach, cuts and bruises all over. You should be grateful nothing got infected."

Valeria bit her lip, the sharp retort she wanted to hurl at him swallowed by the throbbing ache in her body. "Then take me to a doctor. Everything hurts," she said through gritted teeth.

"We can't," he said simply, his eyes flicking back to the fire. "The king's distributed wanted posters with your face all over the region. A single glance, and someone might recognize you."

Her heart sank. She'd known the king wouldn't let her go easily, but hearing just how far he'd gone to find her sent a chill down her spine. She tried to push the thought of his inevitable wrath out of her mind and instead focused on a less terrifying subject.

"Where's the coachman? And is he… is he a knight too? I saw him fight the wolves with a claymore."

Asher's gaze remained on the fire as he answered. "He went out hunting for food. And yes, he's a knight. His name is Elias."

"Elias…" she murmured, the name foreign on her tongue. "Why doesn't he ever speak? I tried talking to him before, but he never responded."

"It's none of your business," Asher snapped, his tone sharper than usual. Then, after a moment, he sighed. "He can't talk."

Valeria frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? Is he mute?"

"Yes," Asher replied, his voice quieter now, though no less cold. "When he was a child, some noble bastards tortured him after raping and killing his mother in front of him. For 'fun.' They cut out his tongue so he could never speak of it." His jaw tightened as he spoke, his knuckles white as he gripped his sword. "That's what happens to people born without a title or castle to protect them, my lady."

His words struck her like a blow. The weight of Elias's past left her stunned, and a lump formed in her throat. She couldn't fathom such cruelty, couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Elias to endure that and survive. Compared to his suffering, her own pain seemed insignificant, her complaints hollow.

"I… I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not my fault I was born into a noble household. Aren't you serving a noble too?" she asked hesitantly, unsure of how to respond to his bitterness.

Asher's expression softened, just barely, as he spoke of Lord Lohra. "He's different. He took in boys like Elias and me—gave us a chance in this world."

Valeria's curiosity deepened. "Did you have a difficult past too?" she asked gently.

The brief flicker of vulnerability in Asher's eyes vanished, replaced by his usual stony demeanor. "It's none of your business," he said sharply, his tone signaling the end of the conversation. He stood abruptly. "I need to change your bandages."

"I can do it myself," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing again. "Just give me the bandages and turn away."

He ignored her protests and began unwrapping the bloodied bandages with practiced efficiency. She flinched at his touch, more out of embarrassment than pain. "Hey! I said I'd do it myself!" she snapped, trying to push his hands away.

"You'd just waste the bandages and do a terrible job," he retorted, his voice dripping with impatience. "Stop squirming. It's not like I'm interested in your… small breasts."

Valeria's jaw dropped, her face burning red as she stared at him in outrage. She was too mortified to respond, so she stayed silent and let him finish. Once he was done, she scooted as far away from him as possible, crossing her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to regain some dignity. Asher returned to his spot by the fire, seemingly as eager as she was to put distance between them.

The awkward silence was mercifully broken by Elias's return. He entered the cave, carrying a rabbit and a squirrel in his hands. Valeria watched as he silently set about skinning the animals, his movements methodical and precise. She couldn't help but admire his resilience. After enduring such unspeakable trauma, he was still here—still fighting, still surviving.

A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. If she had become the king's queen, could she have changed anything? Could she have helped people like Elias, the ones born into a world that showed them no mercy? She bit her lip, her thoughts swirling with doubt and regret as she stared into the flickering flames.