Divine || Prinxiety AU

Chapter Fifteen

!Trigger Warning!
Minor character death, slight gore

Miss Jackson- Panic! At the Disco
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Roman startled awake, his eyes flicking open and adjusting quickly to the darkness that still enveloped his the palace. He could hear sounds of panic outside his room- several shrieks of horror followed by silence and then low muttering. Footsteps echoed in the hallway by his bed chamber, nearing it and then fading away as they passed by.

The prince rolled over in bed, causing a stray pillow to slide off the mattress and onto the wooden floor with a whisper of silk on sheets and a soft thud. His heart was beating faster at every little noise he heard from the courtyard; he could hardly stand to lay there for much longer. Roman shoved the covers away without much regard for neatness and got to his feet, ignoring the chill that made its way from his toes to his face, and headed straight for his balcony.

He pushed open the doors and stepped out onto the stone tiles that made up the flooring. The panicked voices carried on the wind and reached his ears, sending a shiver of dread through him. Roman pulled the sleeves of his sleep clothes over his hands, trying to keep out the frigid cold, and hurried to the railing to look over the garden.

The first thing he saw was the unusually high amount of guards that flapped their wings overhead, stood on the walls and in front of each of the entrances to the yard. Servants were scattered around the grounds, most in small groups that huddled together and talked in hushed whispers, faces contorted with distress.

Towards the east wall, guards circled around something that Roman could not see, their backs turned to it like they couldn't stand to look.

The prince's stomach twisted and he stretched his wings, instinctively wanting to inspect the scene for himself. Another breeze got under the fabrics of his pajamas, and Roman rubbed his arms to stay warm before going back inside, pulling a cloak and boots from his wardrobe to wear and then returning to the balcony.

He took off in a hasty flight towards the congregation of guards, touching down just beside them. The men and women immediately pressed closer together, concealing any gaps in between them where Roman might have been able to see through.

"What's going on?" The angel prince asked the guard at the front of the pack, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to go to your father with that question. Though, it's late, just head back to bed."
Roman crossed his arms and stubbornly tried to peer over the heads of the people, but the guard countered his every move.

"Why can't you just tell me?" Roman protested, feeling a little indignant.

"Your highness, it's wise for you to return to your chamber. You won't be seeing her anytime soon."

"Her?" The prince echoed, to which the guard covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, obvious alarm crossing her features. Roman huffed and turned heel, taking off once more and heading back to his room. If nobody down there would tell him, he would have to go put up with his dad. Still, he lingered on the edge of the balcony, glaring at the guards. He squinted to see as they parted slightly to make way for two people, both carrying the pale body of a girl.

Roman could recognize her features, even from the distance. Her long, coal-dark hair spilled over the arms of the men holding her, and her pale yellow eyes gazed dully at the night sky. Several blotches of scarlet blood stained the bodice of her dress, something once pristinely clean that was now torn and feculent.

The prince didn't want to believe what he was seeing.

He turned around, unable to bear to see her anymore and ran inside, slamming the door behind him. He crumbled to the floor with a shaky breath and wiped away a few tears that he hadn't realized had begun to fall. Narcisa couldn't be dead. Roman may have despised her, but he never would've wished her six feet under. How could this even have happened? What, or rather who, had killed her?