Rhys' eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched her reaction, more worry creeping into his mind by the moment. This was not normal for her, and painfully obvious for him. She was very upset, he could tell. Everything about her radiated fear and panic. He couldn't even Fathom what could get her this riled up. Ideas popped into his mind, but none of them made sense. Her quiet, mumbled voice made everything worse. Alarms went off in his mind. She looked terrified. He didn't know her well enough to know what could do this, and he didn't think she'd be exposed to most of the town things that most people would be scared of. It just didn't make sense. Nothing he thought about equaled the look in her eyes. She almost looked.. hunted. He had seen that before. He had SEEN that look before, but no matter how much he racked his brain, he could not remember where. He had a bad feeling that it wasn't good... well, of course it wasn't good, but he meant not good in a way that he couldn't help. Something that he'd be powerful to prevent.

Her words drew him out of his thoughts, a brief flash of hurt shot through his mind. Of course, he didn't EXPECT her to tell him.. he shouldn't feel hurt. That was stupid. He cleared the thoughts from his mind, closing his eyes for a moment before letting out a breath. He couldn't let her get away that easily. He was genuinely concerned, and even more so now. He could see the anxiety in her expression, and even worse, when she lifted her hand, he saw that it was shaking slightly. Rhys glanced around, eyes scanning the hallways before he returned his gaze to her. "Phoebe..." He mumbled lowly, knowing what he was doing but not caring. He knew he could technically be, well, punished for merely saying her name, but he didn't care. "I just want to help you. I can tell something is wrong.. You're trembling." He stated quietly, his gaze fixed on hers as he spoke. He wished he could just sweep away all of her fear and pain, but he couldn't. He hated being powerless, he hated not being able to do anything, but he couldn't change that. He could only hope that she told him, but she looked adamant about not doing that. It was probably something that she shouldn't tell him, anyway, but he didn't care. She was scared, he could tell, and he wanted to help. Any way he could. What he feared is if he couldn't help in any way.

Phoebe Nightlingale

Rhys watched her carefully, evaluating her expressions and emotions. Obviously this thing was weighty, and important, but he couldn't force her to tell him. He could observe and make an educated guess, but that wouldn't give him a clear answer. He could ask again, but that would most likely heed the same results. As she spoke, his eyes darkened just slightly, and he paused, silent for a while, contemplating what to say or do. She was still very distressed, and he wanted to help, but she was effectively pushing him away. He shouldn't expect her to trust him enough to tell him anything, so he understood why she wasn't speaking.. and he could only go so far. He had asked twice, she had lied twice, and as a servant, there was nothing else he could do.

He inclined his head slightly, a resigned expression coming upon his face. "Of course. Apologies for bothering you, princess." He stated lowly, letting out a slow breath before turning away, his mind still running at a million miles per hour. He couldn't push her any more. If only he could remember where he had seen that look before. He got about three steps away before freezing as realization flooded his mind. He would never have remembered this if he didn't have hyperthymesia. It was suddenly crystal clear. The fear that hadn't been there an hour ago, the hunted look, everything. Immediately, he felt sick to the stomach as he recalled exactly where he had seen that look before... his mother. When he was a little boy. He had heard his father come back, and he had crept into the living room to see his mother begging his father to stop... and the rest really explained itself. She had that same look. A hopeless, prey like fear. It was enough to send his own anger and fear coursing through his veins- anger at Atius, fear because he couldn't to a darned thing about it. Well... he could. She just wouldn't let him and it would end very, very badly.

He quickly wheeled back around, jaw set. "Atius. He threatened you, didn't he." Rhys said lowly, glancing around again, his eyes darkening more. He needed to know, to confirm.... although he already knew. The way the General had looked at her.. it made sense, and it made him want to throw up. Whatever disgusting, wretched man would even think about doing that deserved a very special place in hell.

-

(No problem! It's nice to have a shorter one every once in a while lol)

Phoebe Nightlingale

Rhys' emotions were gradually growing, rolling around in his chest till he had a tidal wave just waiting to get out. He did the best he could to hold it back and ignore it, but he felt his throat closing off slightly. His telltale first symptom of a panic attack coming on. He didn't even know why he was the one panicing- SHE had been threatened by Mr. Tall Cruel and Ugly, not him. He knew he felt sick because he wanted to protect Phoebe, but if he did.. there was no telling what Atius would do to him. Then again, his worst case scenario brain STUBBORNLY said that whatever Atius had in mind got Phoebe would be worse, so that didn't help either.

His nostrils flared slightly as he took in another, deeper breath, trying to force his mind to think. Why thinking was so impossible, he didn't know. As she nodded, confirming his suspicions, another wave of nausea dumped itself on his head, and his throat closed off more. Quite helpful. He tightened his jaw, agitation flashing across his face for a moment as his emotions thundered against his brain, asking to be let out for once, while he tried to think up a safe, sane way to take care of the situation. He found none. He knew full well what would happen to him if he was merely seen with her, nevermind if he dare utter a word to Atius. It would most likely be a painful end to his sad existence, and although he wasn't fond of it, he also wouldn't appreciate dying, either.

The ringing in his ears- the second warning that his emotions were getting closer to breaking free- almost prevented him from hearing her as she spoke again, but he managed to pull his mind out of the haze to contemplate her words. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his temple, racking his mind. "... I know I can't help..." He finally muttered lowly, forcing each word out. He didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't help. Unless he did something very, very stupid. "... and I know you want me to leave... and stop pushing... so I will." He let out his breath and opened his eyes, fixing them on her. "... I also know that I shouldn't even be here... but if you need anything... I'll... do my best to help with it." He chose each word carefully before seeming to give up, his shoulder dropping slightly. "... Good night." He mumbled, turning to walk away, his chest feeling constricted. He wanted, badly, to help, to fix this, to whack Atius over the head, but he was powerless, and he hated it.

Phoebe Nightlingale

Rhys hadn't stopped thinking.. on the contrary, his brain had kicked it up a gear. He now was scheming ANY way to somehow help Phoebe while not putting himself in a lot of harm. There was no way he wouldn't get punished if he did anything.. he didn't really care, though. If the only option was to openly confront Atius, he would, regardless of the consequences. He knew Phoebe wouldn't appreciate that, though, so he put it as a backup plan. Something that shouldn't be done unless all other options were exhausted. However, most of the other options weren't much better, and the ones that were wouldn't actually fix the problem. He knew why he felt panicked... first and foremost, it was for her, as he could only imagine how horrible it would be to be threatened by a man.. especially one like Atius. Second, he felt powerless, much like he had for the first 12 years of his life, and he hated it. Third, it was also just a symptom of all the emotions from the memories that were flowing through his head- if he was alone, he would've dealt with them, but at the moment, he couldn't, so he was stuffing them down. That never worked well, and the sheer force of keeping them at bay was not helping the situation.

He hadn't really heard her whispered words, although he usually would've. His mind was ... preoccupied. Mostly with memories and how to keep Atius the heck away from her. He didn't want the general within fifty feet of her at the moment, but what was he going to do? Ask nicely for them to stop? Pfft. He was doing a decent ish job at holding everything in... for a normal human. For him, it was almost like a light show saying that he was ACTUALLY FEELING EMOTION FOR ONCE. With big flashing signs. The mere twitching of his fingers indicated that. Back to the main point, as she gentle grabbed his hand, he stopped within an instant, glancing back with part confusion- she had just sent him away. He slowly twisted back around, eyes immediately searching hers as she spoke again. Why the sudden change of heart? He tilted his head slightly, forcing his mind to slow down and focus on her. He paused for a couple seconds before speaking in the simplest manner possible. "I won't leave if you don't want me to." He finally stated quietly, not consciously making an effort to remove his hand, which was unusual for him... he, as well, didn't touch anyone unless he felt it absolutely necessary, and he usually disliked it when people touched him. He couldn't even bring himself to worry about it, as all of his worry was used up at the moment. There wasn't an ounce to spare. He watched her carefully, wondering if she'd speak, and still trying to decide on the best course of action. He wasn't going to do nothing. He was no coward, and apparently he wasn't very cunning. So he was going to do something about her predicament... he just didn't know what, yet

Phoebe Nightlingale

Rhys was trying so hard to think of ways to fix this.. but he couldn't. Everything ended so BADLY. Even if he was merely seen with her, there'd be consequences. For both of them, most likely. He could just stay with her, but Atius would search for her sooner or later, and they would either not find her and call a search or they would find her.. with him.. and that'd be bad. He could openly confront Atius, but that would end with him out if the picture and Phoebe trapped anyway. Also bad. He could, speculating here, take Atius out altogether, but then he'd be a wanted murderer for killing one of the most respected men in the kingdom, and his life would be just as much over. If not more. If he did nothing he'd be a dead man anyway because his emotions would eat him out. No matter where his mind turned, it seemed impossible. The best thing he could think of is somehow driving Atius away while he was hidden, but even then, the general would probably figure it out. It wasn't just tonight, either. Atius could come to the castle at any time. The more he thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed.

He ripped himself from his thoughts again as she gently tugged on his hand, silently telling him to follow her. He stepped after her without a word, trying to squish the worry in his mind as his gaze flit around, scanning their surroundings. Once he deemed it safe, he returned his eyes to her, the dark blue glinting in the low light as he watched her with slight concern. He took one stride for every two of hers, his footsteps completely silent as he slowly followed her, seemingly towards the small side door that led out towards the gardens. He was slightly worried about Atius and the king returning and seeing them if they went out there.. but the gardens were giant. It was likely they wouldn't be seen.

As she stopped and glanced up at him, he met her gaze, wishing he could unlock the deep sky blue pools of her eyes and see into the secrets underneath. Everyone had internal things that drove them, things that scared them, things that made them happy. Core beliefs that they held onto more than anything else. Their personality. The things that made up their very soul. These things were things he could not just observe, these were things that had to be told. Explained. Showed. She was like many others, although he guessed she had many more secrets than most people. She looked like a naive princess, but he could see the telltale signs of scarring- she had been through hell, but no one knew that, so she suffered alone. That was something he could tell, even if he didn't know what her personal hell looked like.

A faint smile graced his lips at her mumbled words. This he could tell.. she was uncertain if he actually wanted to be there. "Good idea." He stated quietly, stepping around her and opening the door for her with his free hand... he hadn't removed his trapped hand even now, although with everyone else, now would be the point when he was washing it in bleach. He stepped aside to let her exit, then closed the door behind them, solidifying the confirmation that he was now walking with her, whether she liked it or not.

Phoebe Nightlingale

As they walked, Phoebe would occasionally pause or tighten her grip on his hand whenever a sound- more specifically any that resembled a person- processed in her head. She had not forgotten who she was with nor what could potentially happen if anyone saw them wandering the gardens at this time of day; their hand placement would not help their case either. Phoebe truly felt as if she would go insane if he let go though; the odd warmth emmenating from where they were touching was a constant reminder that she was not alone. Sure, she would have been somewhat fine if he was simply accompanying her, but the addition of his touch.. It made her feel far more better and at ease, especially when she would have constantly glanced backwards to ensure he had not wandered off or decided enough was enough.