Finley's POV
"Do you like what you do?" I turned to face Edward. He was lying on his bed, and we were simply not doing anything—there was absolutely nothing to do in the castle. However, I had been hearing rumors of a ball.
"What I do? As in being a knight? Well, I guess so. It's all I've ever known. I believe I've talked about being on the battlefield and how it makes me feel. I guess it's something similar. I've never actually thought about it. It wasn't important whether or not I liked it. It was who I am, what I was made for. So why bother myself with the intricacies of liking it or not?"
"You said it's who you are. I'm guessing your father was a knight?" At the mention of my father, I was once again reminded of what has been lost. The people that I have lost. It reminded me of how truly lonely I was. A part of my mind whispered Edward's name, but he wasn't mi... he wasn't... he would tire of me soon enough, and we would certainly go our separate ways.
"Um, I lost my father a few years ago. I was thirteen, just about to become a squire when we heard the news that he had been killed in war. It broke me, but not as much as it broke my mother. She was devastated. She wouldn't eat or speak to anyone—except when I was unwell, after which she'd go back into her shell. I went into my first battle at 18, younger than most. That was the last time I had seen and spoken to her. She said my father would be proud and bade me farewell. I returned to the news of her death. She... she killed herself."
The death of my parents is not something I really like to speak about, not even to Christopher. The only person that knows is Thorne and now Edward. I don't speak about it because I think there is more I could have done. I failed my mother. I wasn't there for her when she needed me, and now she was dead... dead because of me.
Edward sat up when I finished. "I'm so sorry, Finley. I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for you to lose both parents. You are so strong, Finley, and I truly hope you know that. I am in utter awe of you." I was not making sense of what he was saying. Sure, I knew I was strong on the battlefield, physically, but I don't think that's what he meant, and I don't know what to do with that information.
"Um, thank you, but my mother is really the strong one. She had to lose her husband, you know? They were so in love, and I selfishly went into the battlefield without considering her. I think you're giving me too much credit." I looked back at Edward, and he looked... angry? Why would he be angry?
"I would slap you if I wasn't so weak and it wouldn't hurt you. Don't speak about yourself in that manner. Are you insane? What were you supposed to do? You were a child. You lost both parents in four years. You lost a parent to war and the other when you went to war. You didn't let that stop you, though. No, you persevered, you stayed strong, and you let it build you. If I say you're strong, then you are. I don't go around saying things just because I can. Never think of yourself like that again, and that's an order." He said it in the strictest of tones, but I couldn't help the smile on my face. For one, I don't think you can order someone regarding their thoughts, and I don't think he cares about that, though. Secondly, his words... they had a way of making me feel something.
"Okay, I'll try. I'm not sure how that'll work, but I'll try my best. Thank you, really, for your words." I smiled at him, and he returned one back.
"The way you speak about your father, you seem to have loved him very much. What was he like? What were they like?" he asked, and I smiled at the fond memory of my little family, what we were before we were ripped apart by the cold hands of death.
"I loved my father... I love my father very much. As a page, he taught me everything he could: learning basic skills such as reading, writing, and courtly manners, basic combat skills, everything. I was supposed to be under him as a squire. When he died, however, Lord Thorne, who was his best friend, took me under his wing, and that was nice, but it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted my father. I've always wanted my father. Anyway, he and my mother loved each other for as long as both could remember. In fact, sometimes I think the reason they didn't have any more children was because they wanted to spend maximum time with each other."
"Naturally, that love they had was passed on to me. My father loved me without a doubt; he loved his son. My mother loved me because I was an extension of someone she loved. She couldn't not love me. She saw my father in me. I knew she loved him more than me, but I didn't care. It never affected her love for me. She loved me without condition, and so did he. We were happy, truly happy. A perfect family until... well, until death did its thing." I looked up at Edward and saw tears pooling in his eyes, but I didn't want that. I didn't want him to cry; I never wanted him to cry.
"No, no, my prince. Don't cry for me; don't cry for any reason. I'm fine now, I promise you that." He wiped his eyes, and I left my spot on the chair and joined him on the bed. I didn't want to be imposing, but this wasn't the first time. I pulled him closer and held him. He let out a breath and relaxed in my arms, nuzzling his head into my neck, his lips brushing lightly on my neck. I suppressed a groan threatening to come out.
This is normal; it is very normal to love the feel of his head on my chest. Normal to stop myself from making any embarrassing sounds when his lips meet my neck lightly. It's normal, very normal to brush the hair from Edward's forehead. To hold him tightly, never wanting to let go. I was just doing my job. Any good guard would do the same.
We were in that position so long, I thought Edward had fallen asleep until we heard a knock on the door, and he looked up at me. I wondered who that was, and I'm sure he did too. He had been served his dinner and taken his medication.
I untangled myself from him, letting out a laugh at his protest. "Let me go check who is at the door." I opened the door to see a palace servant. One I had asked about Edward's healers from. I had almost forgotten about that.
"Is there a problem?" Edward directed the question to her. I hadn't even noticed when he reached me. She looked nervous, staring at the prince and then back at me.
"Um... nothing, Your Highness. I would just like a word with Sir Finley." Edward furrowed his brow in confusion and looked at me.
"I will be right back." I turned to the servant and left the prince's chambers, leaving behind a very perplexed prince.
"I'm sorry. I knocked on your room, and you weren't there. I thought the prince was asleep," she apologized, but I simply brushed her off.
"That's fine. Any news?" I asked, referring to Edward's healers.
She shook her head. "No, sir. A messenger brings the herbs that last about two weeks. They have a taste, and then they leave. No one knows the prince's healers. Our responsibility is simply to serve them to the prince." That was strange and truthfully unsafe. How is it possible that no one knows the prince's healers? It had been eight years—strange indeed. King Edmund would know of it for sure. However, I doubted his willingness to release the information to me or my willingness to ask him for it. There had to be some way.
"Alright, thank you, Annabella. I appreciate you so much." She blushed, and I vaguely registered her attraction to me—the main reason I was able to convince her to do this for me. I smiled at her and was about to head back to the prince when she called out to me.
"Here." She handed me an envelope. "It's for the annual ball. I was supposed to have it delivered, but I guessed you wouldn't mind having it now. I was ordered to also tell you that you could come as you are without being the prince's guard. There will be enough security." I looked at the envelope and thanked her again, heading back to the prince's chambers.
"What did she want?" he asked the moment I reached his bed and took a seat on the chair beside it.
"Um, nothing really... actually something." I handed him the envelope. He opened it and went through the paper inside.
"Oh, the ball." He looked at me and back at the bed I was on before. Giving me a look, I laughed and resumed my earlier position, taking him into my arms once more.
"Yeah, is there a problem?" He looked totally uninterested in the envelope I had brought. I thought this was something a royal would be bothered about, but I guess he's not like other royals.
"No, I just don't care for the ball. Anyway, that's all she wanted to talk to you about? You know she likes you, right?" I laughed, brushing it off, and just pulled him closer.
"She didn't say anything you need to bother yourself about, okay?" He looked up at me skeptically but decided to let it go. He got comfortable on my chest and I held him until he fell asleep