"I have nothing to apologise for."
"Forgive me," The King gritted out through clenched teeth, his voice hardening. "But I fail to see how you can stand here so nonchalantly and have the nerve to say that, when your foolish actions may have very well cost us our victory in this war!"
"But Father," he protested, his demeanor that of a person who would stand his ground no matter what. "She was gravely injured! If I hadn't had her treated, she could have died!"
"Then you should have let her! Need I remind you, Aaron, that as Prince of Driria, you are duty-bound to do anything to protect it against invasion? But you went ahead and did the exact opposite! Healing the daughter of your opponent, who was injured in battle against your own empire, can be considered as an Act of Betrayal. " The King of Driria sighed. "She escaped with her life intact and I have no doubts that Draesia will retaliate vigorously."
"I know," Prince Aaron sighed. "But I don't regret doing it. Just because she is the Princess of Draesia doesn't mean she cannot be entitled to medication, even if it's in the enemy kingdom. Furthermore, it's my opinion that I may very well have stopped the centuries-old enmity between our kindgoms. You know I'm right."
He stared at his father, at the King of Driria and debated whether it would make any difference to him. Exhaling a ragged breath, he took the plunge.
"I'm not you, Father. And maybe, that's for the best."
He turned on his heel and marched out of his father's chambers, his words hanging in the air like whispering ghosts, crawling over his father's skin, breathing the daunting possibility into his ears.
Soumya | ©amberglow