Scarlet Spells

THIRTY

This...can't be happening...no...

With little understanding of my surroundings, I dash through the corridor with Sir Arvin amd Grenthoda at my heels. I've ceased to blink my eyes as my forehead sweats an ocean.

"The Royal Med!" shouts Sir Arvin after me, telling me to turn left, while I was about to turn right towards her chambers.

My throat throbs a lot, as I swallow numerous pieces of greif. I'm here...I've finally reached the corridor at the end of where is the medical chamber. I can see it. There are people, almost ten of them, outside the closed doors, but my eyes are only on the door. While I automatically plan how to break it open while I'm on the go, somebody notices my intention and quickly holds both the doors open.

Thank you...thank you....thank you...

As I reach closer and closer, a fine thread of a tear mildly blurs my eyes, but I prevent it from forming any more....I can't cloud my mind now. I must calm the raging tides within my head.

I enter the room and stop short. My chest is heaving up and down, as I look at the bed, some twenty-five paces before me. King Marvin is here. He is standing at the side of the bed, but is not quite close to it. He is unmoving. Like a statue, he looks only at the person lying on the bed and Mr. Husle us beside him, telling him something, but it doesn't look like he's listening.  Fredric is sitting on the other side of the bed, looking at the person lying, as he slowly strokes her hair. Two silent tears drop, but he doesn't move. Just like his father.

Andrus is, before his father, kneeling down on the floor, as he hold her hands within his, placing them on his forehead and bowing down on the bed, as if in apology. Andrus' silent sobbing is heard.

Hold it. Do not falter. Calm down.

I breathe a shaky breath before holding down my thoughts and finally moving towards the bed in a slow pace. The blinds from either sides of the bed is partially drawn so that only the upper half is seen. I walk around, slowly, introducing her to me, but my shoulders stoop and all noise becomes null inside my head, as I see her.

Her eyes are closed. The most peaceful closure I've ever seen. Her hair on the pillow is messy, looking unnatural, considering her demeanor. Her lips are part and toned blue. Everything is completely still. But no, I feel so, not because how she lays on the bed, cold. No, its not because I've made sure that she'll never wake again. No, its not because I feel for the people around her. Everything feels still...because a long, dried stain of red sits upon her throat.

Queen Merida did not die....she was killed.

I blink away. I can't lose my mind here. I turn to Sir Arvin. He nods and leads me to the farthest end of the room. I blink forever. Sir Arvin leans closer.

"She skipped dinner, just like you. Though she did not inform, King Marvin assumed that she must take her time to cool down. Later, he was worried and went to check up on Her Majesty. It was some twenty minutes ago. The details are not clear, but it seemed like she was lying on the floor, facing up. The carpet was stained with the blood from her throat. His Majesty quickly called aid, though he was struggling to think for himself. With some aid, we laid her here. Someone has gone to find a physician. She is dead, no doubt," his voice dies down towards the end of his narrative.

"What caused that wound?" My voice is strange with ragged breathings. I keep staring at her.

"...A letter opener. The soldier said that almost the whole of it was buried in her jugular. Perpendicular."

Grenthoda wraps a shawl around my shoulders, out of the blue. The chaos made me forget that I'm still in my nightgown and bare feeted.

"I can't tell people that I saw Her Highness in such a state," he says as he beckons a soldier, who puts down a pair of slippers.