The sweet venom Chapter 35: 34

Read chapter 35 of The sweet venom by aspa201 on NovelPedia.

The sky was gradually darkening, and the Prince, seated against a tree at the edge of the fire, stared into the flames, lost in thought. Helia watched him in silence. There was still enough light for her to clearly see the blood that continued to seep from his abdomen, but the deepening shadows of the forest announced the imminent arrival of night. Without wasting a moment, she grabbed the first large leaf she could find nearby and spread the remainder of her preparation across its surface. She then rose to her feet, her heart set on trying one last time to help the man who had saved her life, even though he seemed determined to refuse any assistance. He had acted on instinct to protect her in a moment of danger; it was only right that she return the favor. She walked slowly toward the fire, her gaze fixed on him. When he finally looked up at her, he immediately understood her intentions, a slight furrow of his brow betraying his thoughts. He seemed almost irritated by her persistence. She sat down beside him, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Your Highness, please apply this remedy." He turned his head as though she had said nothing at all, but she did not relent and continued, "It will ease the pain and prevent the wound from becoming infected. It costs you nothing." After several seconds of inaction, she finally saw him move. He suddenly lifted his top and slid it over the wound, revealing an abdomen largely stained with blood. Helia froze for a moment, her eyes scanning the extent of the injury, and, involuntarily, the Prince’s figure as well. The sight of his perfectly defined abdominal muscles unsettled her, and for an instant, she almost forgot what she was supposed to do. She quickly regained her composure, refocusing on the wound that ran along the right side of his abdomen. That was when she noticed fragments of armor scattered on the ground, and realization struck her: the shattered armor must have pierced his skin during the fall. That explained the severity of the injury. When she lifted her eyes, she met his gaze. He was watching her with complete confidence. Silence settled between them. The Prince did not seem disturbed in the slightest, as if this situation were the most natural thing in the world. He clearly expected her to tend to him. He was not merely an injured man before her, but the Crown Prince, undoubtedly accustomed to being cared for by others whenever the need arose. Helia, on the other hand, was caught in a swirl of discomfort. The situation, though strictly professional, made her deeply uneasy. Even when she had assisted Lord Bellair in the infirmary tent, she had limited herself to taking vitals and administering injections—never had she needed to touch a man in this way. Yet he seemed to consider it a given, she realized she had no choice. She took a deep breath and focused. She briefly looked away and began tearing a strip from the lower layers of her dress. You are a scientist, Helia. You know the human anatomy perfectly well. It’s just a body, nothing more than muscles and skin , she repeated to herself, trying to push aside the discomfort stirred by the sight of the Prince’s exposed torso. Turning back to him, she began cleaning the blood that stained his skin using one of the strips of fabric, keeping her eyes fixed entirely on the wound. Once she had cleared the blood around the injury, she pressed the cloth gently against the wound to absorb the fresh bleeding. The step was necessary before applying the remedy, but no sooner had she done so than a soft groan escaped the Prince’s lips. Instinctively, she looked up at him, her heart tightening. His eyes had fallen shut under the surge of pain. His head tipped back against the tree, he lowered his gaze to her. The intensity of his gray eyes seemed to pierce straight through her. She immediately looked away, murmuring an apology for the pain she had caused him in a voice barely audible. The atmosphere grew heavier as the last rays of sunl