Ostus skidded to a halt in shock as he watched as Kiara snatch up that dagger and slice open her opponent's throat. Of course, he felt relieved that she managed to defend herself, save herself, but he certainly did not expect that at all...

She surprised him once more when she rose into position with bow and arrow in her hands, firing a perfect shot at the assassin behind him. Ostus blinked, glancing over his shoulder in time to watch him fall. A cracked skull, broken ribs, and broken jaw wasn't enough to keep the bastard down?

He looked back at Kiara, wide-eyed. Her reflexes, skill, and quick thinking were as good as any seasoned soldier. Had she been in battle and he hadn't known about it? All preconceptions he had about her being a fragile, innocent princess faded away at that moment.

Well, almost all.

Dread filled Ostus as he exhaled; he knew that expression on her face and her body's reaction all too well. Nothing tore at the soul better than a first kill; the shock and remorse in her eyes was the same that he had seen in so many young soldiers when they realized the full and terrible extent of their base capabilities. 

He rushed to Kiara's side at once, embracing her before she decided to lose balance or feint. "Fuck, Kiara," he murmured, a tiny smile flickering on his lips over the shadow of remorse in his eyes. He scanned her body frantically, worriedly. "Where are you hurt?" It was impossible to tell what blood was hers and what was her opponent's. He noted a fierce-looking gash on her shoulder and gritted his teeth. He hoped it didn't knick an artery.

"I'm here, you're safe," he reassured her as he scooped her in his arms and carried her to her tent. "I'm sorry, Kiara... I should have been faster... you were amazing, I had no idea..." Carefully, he kneeled down with her in the tent, his mind already running through the steps he'd need to take to take care of that wound and to try to comfort her. "Kiara, I'm going to have to look at that shoulder..."