She knew him. Short, messy dark brown hair covered his head, and his eyes were a light brown, almost caramel in color. A brown cloak rested on his shoulders, and black leather gloves covered his hands. He wore a loose beige shirt and brown pants, which were tucked into his black leather boots. A sword rested on his side, and he wore a brown leather chest holster with ten daggers. All of the blades had a blue sheen to them, characteristic of the man's work.
(F/n) hadn't spent much time around him, but she knew that he was skilled not just in his craft but in his combat as well. She had seen him practice his weapons with some of the castle's knights. Keiran was the royal blacksmith, having taken it over after his mentor had passed from old age two years ago. Though in reality, he probably could have taken it over sooner. She believed it to be respect for his mentor, one she used to have.
At the thought, a frown touched her once confused countenance. When she met his eyes, though, she returned to her original expression. Why did he save her? She hardly knew the man beyond what he did for the kingdom, and she doubted that he would be retaining his position given that he was helping her. If he was caught, he'd earn the same punishment.
Gleaning what she was thinking from her look, he picked up a chair that was out of her view and seated it by her. Keiran took a seat and glanced over her wounds. "They're healing as best as they can given the situation," he muttered more to himself than to her. She remained puzzled but welcomed the distraction. Hopefully, it'd remain only that and not turn into something sinister. He met her eyes once more. "I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you sooner, my highness."
(F/n) paused at the title and a tight, saddened smile touched her lips. "You shouldn't call me that." Before he could clearly try to argue her comment, she continued, "You're the royal blacksmith, Keiran." He nodded at her pause. "Why help me?" As much as she needed the distraction, she wanted to make sure that he didn't plan to add to her suffering and that the medical aid wasn't false hope. "You've ruined your life by saving me. I don't even know you that well. I don't see how this benefits you." She wanted to clutch at the sheet over her, but what was left of her arms only tensed at the thought. A heavy frown graced her lips. Her eyes turned to her lap. "You should've let me die."
"My qu -"
"Don't." She wanted to hide under the sheets, but all she could do was lie there. "... Can you prop me up please?" As if on cue, he gently helped her sit up against the headrest, causing her to wince despite the careful treatment. If she could, she'd touch one of his weapons; that's all she needed to give herself some defense, but she couldn't even do that. "Just use my name." At his hesitancy, she continued, "My first name is fine. I have no crown now." He looked ready to argue, but he stayed quiet for a moment instead.
Keiran felt odd calling the princess, now queen, simply by her first name. His admiration for her kind nature and helpfulness with the sick and wounded told him to call her by her proper title even if he didn't mind deep down. To be on such a personal level with her ... Well, it did make his heart skip a beat.
"So again, why help me?" Her gaze hardened in an attempt to keep herself from crying at her lack of ability to do anything about any of this and to refrain from letting fear take hold of her mind at what this man wanted from her exactly.
"Because, I know that you didn't kill your parents. Someone like you could never do that. I know that you loved them, and you care too much for others to take such a dark turn out of nowhere. It doesn't add up," he answered clearly. She couldn't hide the shock that graced her face, and her brows furrowed.
"I ... Then, why weren't you at my trial?" She tried to sit up more but couldn't. He went in to help her, but she glared at him instead. Keiran paused before he leaned back. Hopefully, she wouldn't remain this stubborn in the future, or what they needed to do after her recovery would be all the more difficult. That was assuming that she agreed to his plan. "Why do you think you know me so well?"
"(F/... (F/n)," he started, her name feeling odd at first on his tongue, but he soon mentally smiled at saying her name, "I was out of town. I had been making a delivery to outposts around the kingdom. I only arrived this morning when I heard what was happening."
"And, you just had to rush to my aid?" She remained skeptical. "No one in the whole castle, no one who I was closer to defended me, yet you risked everything because you know that I care?!" Her voice raised itself.
Truthfully, she wasn't mad at him. Rather, she was angered and hurt that this man who she barely knew risked his life at great cost to himself while no one else in the castle even seemingly tried to help her. She couldn't stop the tears that time. "How does that make any sense?! Why do you know that I'm innocent?! Are you working with them?! Is this some horrible joke to you?!" Before she could continue, a hand rested over her mouth.
Out of instinct, she tried to bite him, and he ... let her. The leather protected his skin. Slowly, she pulled away, not expecting that. "I know that you're upset, but don't yell. No one knows that we're here, and I'd like to keep it that way." She remained silent, letting tears trickle down her cheeks before she sighed and steadily nodded. "It's not a joke to me. And no, I'm not working with them."
Completely, she froze. She met his gaze, and he nodded. "Yes, I know." Her lips parted. "You'd think they'd be more careful, but, apparently, with your death near, they didn't think that anyone would be listening in on their conversation."
"How? Surely, they were somewhere hidden if my sister and mentor were discussing their treachery." Her tears slowed down as she tried to regain control of her emotions.
"They were by the smithy. Not many were there given the situation. Work wasn't really on anyone's mind around the castle." He brushed back some strands of hair and sighed lightly. There were other emotions depicted in his caramel orbs, but she couldn't decipher them. "The words I was hearing ..." He stopped himself. "It's not important. They didn't know the truth." (F/n) imagined what he heard was similar to she had herself from those in the castle.
"Kendra and Felin were sitting on some of the chairs. It was odd. Neither looked troubled." She noted how he didn't seem to mind saying her sister's name so casually. No respect was in his voice for either of them, and given that he knew the truth of the matter, she wasn't surprised. "To some, maybe, they just looked exhausted, but I remained hidden, my gut telling me otherwise." He frowned. "I just heard their whispers, stating how they had won and that you would be out of the way soon enough. I put that together with what I had heard from others, and everything made a lot more sense."
Keiran shook his head. "I honestly didn't expect it. They definitely hid their intentions well except for that instance." His gaze turned genuine. "I'm sorry that I couldn't help sooner."
Again, she wanted to tighten her grip on the sheets, on something. "Why didn't you? If anyone, someone else had stood up for me, I might've not ended up like ..."
"(F/n), I'm only ..."
"One man would've been enough!" she shouted, but he held his ground. His eyes glanced out the window, and she bit her lip to prevent her yelling again. "That's all I needed," she whispered. "That man messed with me somehow. He made me a fool at my own trial. My own mentor and sister." She held back tears once more. "I kept trying to tell the guards once I grew my senses back after that trial that something was done to me. No one listened. But if someone else had ... There was still time if you got there in the morning."
"... I didn't know that detail." Truly, he didn't. He hadn't heard about the trial. Only that she was to be executed for killing the king and queen. Not to mention he was rushing around trying to figure out a plan to save her. Only in that rush had he learned of Kendra and Felin's traitorous deeds. He would've killed them if it made things easier, but it only would've complicated matters and made it look like they were accomplices in the death of the king and queen.
Releasing a sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment before she reopened them. "I see." She tsked. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't know how you think you can survive this." (F/n) stared down at her lap, noting how flat the sheet looked against the bed. Her legs should've been there. "You're in hiding with me, and given that it's still night of the same day," his nod confirmed her suspicion, "we're close to the city of Credel. They'll find this place once they realize that you're not coming back."
A frown touched her lips. "Given how sick my sister is and my mentor, they'll no doubt just let you disappear. They'll want to exploit you." She narrowed eyes and let them fill with doubt. "How do you expect to run from Credel forces with me in tow? I'm just a burden now. I can't even use any of my training in healing. Maybe, guide you on what herbs to get, but I'm just going to slow you down. You should return before they realize you're gone and leave me to die."
"No." His answer was absolute, so much so that it caused her to pause and meet his gaze head on. Keiran rested his hands on his knees. "You're not burden. And, you're going to be able to do everything you could before again."
(F/n) couldn't help but let out a skeptical laugh. "No offense, but your magic can't give me back my limbs." Keiran did indeed have magic, metal magic to be exact, and it's what made the Credel knights so feared. He could make what the kingdom called living weapons. He simply had to touch metal and let the magic flow into the material. From there, he shaped it into a weapon like any blacksmith.
Once it came into contact with human skin, it'd form to the limb in question and become an extension of themselves. Knights could have swords, hammers, etc. for hands. The weapons never decayed, and they couldn't be cut through. They could only be melted or shattered if hit with enough blunt force. In that way, it served as an immense means of protection from having a limb ... Well, cut off. And with his ability, sure she could have an "arm" or "leg," but she didn't really want to walk around on sharp points and slice through everyday items when trying to handle them. "So, don't lie to me."
"I'm not." An eyebrow of hers rose. And, her eyes were harsh. He had to be lying, though.