You’ve spent every moment trapped in this stupid temple praying and wishing that one day, some divine being would grant you the opportunity to escape, to finally be free once more, and to go home to your father—but now that your prayers have been answered, you can’t shake the heavy guilt that’s weighing on your chest.

If you had just stayed in your room where you were supposed to be, if you had just gone another way, gotten away a little faster, this wouldn’t have happened—he wouldn’t have gotten hurt trying to save you. Honestly, you can’t believe he saved you in the first place. He’s supposed to be evil, the King of Curses as they call him—and yet here he is, all scratched up for you.

As bad as you feel for getting him hurt, though, there’s no ignoring the foundation of your current relationship—bickering. You gently press the warm cloth into a deep gash on his forearm, and are met with a loud groan. “Agh—that hurts!” He grumbles. “If you hadn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened.”