The Beauty In Love And Murder

Chapter Forty Three - Adrienne

The forest is quiet, with the occasional snap of a branch or the crunch of leaves under the hooves of the horses. My bow is strung and ready to shoot.

The larger royal party headed in a different direction than we did; the four of us—Theodore, Zephyr, Sophia and myself— decided that it would be much more amusing for us to split off from everyone else and hunt on our own.

We trot around the trees for a while, but eventually we all get sick of it and dismount to sit in a circle in a glade. I nestle up to Theodore tentatively, and his arm circles around me automatically, his fingers running up and down my side.

Sophia eyes us as we chat, and I can see Zephyr doing the same with Theodore. I stifle a laugh, enjoying this too much.

We're not loud— we sit and talk almost quietly, and after a while a stag makes its way to the edge of the glade. Our voices hush as we see him with his majestic antlers and graceful hooves, and I exchange glances with everyone else— should we kill him? Or should we let him go?

I think of Aesira, how whenever she found an injured animal outside, she would bring it home and nurse it back to health. Birds, mice, ducks, everything was tucked under her capable little wing and sent back to the wild as soon as they were cured.

I examine the stag. Aesira wouldn't want me to kill you, I think. So I don't, but I don't say a word when Sophia's arrow flies past me and buries itself in the stag's eye, Zephyr's arrow striking its side.

We ride back to the pavilion together, leaving the carcass of the stag behind. I follow Theodore as he goes up to a servant, sending four men to retrieve the stag from the forest. Zephyr and Sophia whisper conspiratorially behind Theodore and I, and I shoot a look at the two of them over my shoulder.

We sit down under the gauzy canopy at a table, ordering tea and cakes and other foods. "For you, Lady Sophia." Zephyr flourishes a rose picked from one of the many rosebushes scattered over the grounds in front of Sophia. She blushes and smiles saucily at Zephyr, accepting it with a wink. "Beguiled by my charms already, are we Sir Windfall?"

Theodore bursts into laughter and I hold out for a moment before joining in. Zephyr lounges in his seat with a grin, and Sophia rolls her eyes. I eat a macaroon, still snickering in an unladylike fashion when a panicked bugle rolls across the tops of the trees.

Theodore's eyes widen in alarm and Zephyr rises half out of his seat. We watch in horror as three horsemen from the other hunting party, the one that went with the king and queen, ride onto the smoothly trimmed grass and reign their horses in, shouting incoherently. I sprint up to the one closest to me, who has slipped from his horse and lays on the grass, panting. "The— the king— he—" I press two fingers to the side of the man's throat, his frantically fluttering pulse meeting my fingertips. "What, what happened to the king?" I ask. His pupils dilate as he looks up at me. "He's dead." He whispers, then his head lolls in a dead faint. I whip my head up, locking eyes with Theodore. The prince is pale and stiff, and I run up to him after giving the messenger to a servant. "Look at me." I grab his face in my hands and nod at Zephyr over his shoulder, who runs for our horses.

"Theodore. We need to get out there and retrieve your parents. Do you understand me? Pull yourself together and let's go. There will be time to grieve, but that time is not now." My own father's dead eyes flicker in my mind and I grit my teeth, forcing myself not to flinch. Theodore looks dazed, and I shake him. "Let's. Go." I shove him towards his horse and look at Sophia. "Are you staying or coming." I say harshly, authoritatively. She blanches but nods decisively. "I'll come."

The ride is fast and tense, and I can see the adrenaline and shock curling around us like a fog. The sky has gone dark, clouds rolling in overhead to block out the sun. We thunder behind the third messenger who was thankfully in fit enough shape to lead us to the scene.

After ten minutes of galloping in the same direction, the messenger points us forwards and rides away. We exchange looks of dismay and spur our horses forwards cautiously, the eerie silence of the empty forest swallowing us as we advance. 

The trees are bent and broken around a circle of dead horses and courtiers. Sophia pales in revulsion when she sees the bodies, and Zephyr pulls her into his arms to hide her face in his shoulder. The metallic scent of blood is heavy in the air, and I look warily at Theodore. The corpses are mangled; claw marks mar the features of lords and ladies sprawled on the ground in death.

As I survey the scene before us, I allow all emotion to drain out of me. I detach myself for the time being, not letting myself feel any sympathy or revulsion— just cold calculation.

Theodore watches my face grow stony and I see his features do the same. Disassociation. I think blankly.

I hear a low moan behind me, and I turn to locate the source. Something moves in my peripheral and I dismount, advancing slowly towards the body that moves slightly as it lies on the bleeding ground.

The figure is facedown, so I flip it over gently. The bloodied, barely conscious face of the queen emerges and I hear a strangled gasp behind me. Theodore's hardened demeanour has cracked for a moment as he sees his mother's body splayed against the ground.

Zephyr calls quietly from a distance away. "I have Princess Zena here— she's alive too." I nod, wishing grimly that she hadn't survived. I shake my head then walk over to the other corpses littering the ground, checking the gouges in the trees as I take in observations. We do a quick check of all the bodies we can find, and retrieve two other courtiers who are still breathing, then ride back to the pavilion with the survivors in tow. The whole way back, I can't help but wonder uneasily— what possibly could have happened?