Arwin took one long look at his Maria. It was a strange feeling he felt, the momentary, paralyzing shock. He never would have thought that his daughter could make such a bloody mess. She was vengeful, but he never knew it would get this bad. How was he supposed to write this off? How would those in the kingdom react?
As her father stared blankly, Evette bent down to retrieve the belt sheath from the floor, before she took off running toward her quarters.
With a slow beat, a fast beat, and then a skipped beat, Evette could feel the adrenaline. It pounded through her veins and invaded her bloodstream like she had never felt before.
Eve ran, her clunky boots hitting the stone floor in rapid succession. She heard loud voices call after her; it was soon after she reached her chambers, that she could feel the vibration of castle guard's pounding footsteps get closer and closer to her by the second.
Evette scrambled to find clothes that she could shove in her large satchel. A thick layer of dust had accumulated on the bag that she had stored underneath of her bed. She grabbed essentials, and practically skipped over to her dresser to retrieve her favorite hair pin. She only wore it on the days she felt like it. Clipping the pin to her lapel, Eve paused when she was reminded of the necklace that sat neatly at the bottom of her small river rock jewelry plate. A small wooden cross wrapped in twine, silver strands of wire wrapped around the pendant nicely and made up the circular clasp.
The necklace Evette glanced at was hers, but she never put it on. Her deceased half brother had made it for her as a gift. It was beautiful, but she didn't feel like it was right to wear. Argyle was the first, and only member of his family to become religious. He always kept it a secret, but Evette had seen him praying on the nights he felt helpless, or the long winter mornings just before the war commenced. Evette used to believe that his prayer had always protected her from the wrath of her stepmother, but judging as her body was now sprawled out on the floor of the dining hall, Eve realized that it wasn't god who protected her all those years. She was simply lucky.
In silence, Eve heard the screams of her subconscious. She would give anything to know the truth. Arwin blurted something that confused her mind and clouded her judgment. She didn't know the full story, or the reason why the king killed the mother of his daughter, but Evette knew that she was too far gone to know. It didn't matter what her father would say, Topaz was still gone. She was still dead and buried six feet deep.
A killer, a king's daughter that wasn't really ever loved, a criminal on the run, was what Evette was now. Could she make it past the guards, and out of the castle with her heart still beating? No, the odds were against her, but Noel was out there. He was leaving, and every second Evette wasted reminiscing, he was getting further away. She had one chance, the odds were a million to one, but there was still a sliver of hope left. Eve was willing to sacrifice her chance at ever knowing the truth. She was going to go find the one person she still had left. The only one she dared to care for. The only one that cared for her in return.
The remembrance of Argyle's brown eyes faded in Evette's mind. She picked up the necklace without another thought and put it on. The smooth, silver metal shifted on her collar bone as she scrambled to pull out a small bag that was rather heavy. She fished a velvet bag filled with stolen gold out from the middle drawer of her dresser, and shoved it in her pocket. She placed her heavy sword in its sheath and fastened the belt around her waist. Her belongings weighed her down as she made a break for her bedroom door. Eve had worked hard to save up the gold pieces in her pocket, and the rainy day where she might have needed leverage had now come. Bribe. Whatever it takes. Bribe. She repeated the mantra in her mind as she stepped out of her bedroom door and saw a plethora of armored guards making their way down the hall toward her. Dammit, she cursed inwardly.
Evette ran back into her room and went over to her bedroom window that overlooked the castle's back courtyard. She didn't have enough sheets to tie together to climb out of the window, and the jump would be fatal. Down in the courtyard, a soft bed of grass directly below the bedroom window looked seemingly innocent. Like it was simply waiting to swallow up Evette's body if she dared to jump. She wasn't that foolish.
Castle guards broke through Evette's locked bedroom door easily. She could have barricaded it, but that idea had slipped her mind. She hoisted herself out of the window and closed her eyes when she glanced down. She shimmied and moved her body back and forth as she held onto the only place she could. She silenced her low whimpers of fear when she watched the guards peek out her bedroom window in search of her. She stayed in the blindspot where she was for a minute or two. Her arms started to get tired and shake from the use of her muscles. It had been quite a while since she had last exercised her rather thin arms.
The guards who were inside the castle called to those who could hear. They all ran out of the room and down the stairs. No longer did the guards glance out the window. Evette was grateful for their retreat, but it was too late. The muscles in her arms were tired and weak, climbing back up to the window was out of the question; she felt her fingers slipping from the stone that kept her hanging. Everyone prays in the end, Evette heard Argyle say once, and he was right. Everyone did pray when the end was near, even one who wasn't religious. Eve prayed to have a painless death as she began to fall to the grass covered ground. She hit the ground with a thud and a groan.
She wasn't dead. Surprisingly. Eve cracked her back and made a face when she sat up. Her ribs hurt, and her back was extremely sore, but other than that, she was okay. Maybe the ledge she fell from wasn't as high up as she thought.
The satchel at Evette's side was crushed. Any of the breakable belongings inside were most likely broken from the impact of the fall, but it didn't matter. Eve didn't let that stop her. She stood, and ran to the front of the courtyard, careful not to alert the guard who had fallen asleep in the side court. It was a good thing he had dozed off, it gave her time to make her way to the front of Tigerstar Castle without being detected.
The royal stable's bolted door creaked and shifted in the low wind. It had been broken open, and one of the beasts was missing from its stall. Farrah, the king's horse, was gone.
In the front courtyard, Quill had climbed aboard Arwin's horse, and was quickly making her way towards the front of the castle. She caught sight of Evette and turned around as fast as she could. Guards from all directions started to close in around the two girls that stood in different parts of the courtyard. They both glanced at each other knowingly. A nod was exchanged before Evette began running forward, barely pushing past anyone who stood in her way.
The king and his sons were outside in the courtyard now, and as Evette grabbed Quill's extended hand, she turned to see her brothers staring at her in. . . disbelief? Disappointment? They continued to move closer as Quill pulled Evette up. Throwing her leg up and over Farrah's back, Eve was now on the back of her father's white horse. Quill took the reigns in her pale hands and she forced Farrah into a fast gallop forward.
Noel should have been long gone, following the caravan of royal maidens that were fading into the distance slowly, but there he was, waiting. He held his horse's reigns loosely as he yelled to the men in the gatehouse. The iron portcullis was still raised, but not for long.
Evette and Quill pushed forward as fast as they could, they were in the very center of the courtyard now, and guards ran out of their way. They were too afraid to get trampled beneath Farrah's heavy hooves. The air held a mixture of fear, desperation, and adrenaline in its transparent particles. There wasn't enough oxygen that Evette could've breathed in to stop her ragged breaths. She couldn't explain why Noel had waited for her near the castle's drawbridge, but he did. She called to him loudly over all the ruckus.
"Go! Run Noel!" Evette called over the wind. Noel realized who was behind him now, and he hesitantly galloped forward. His brown stallion and himself were now in the center of the lowered drawbridge that was slowly being raised by the men in the gatehouse. He made it to the other side of the bridge with ease.
The two girls and Farrah, the strong white mare, continued to charge toward the castle courtyard's exit. They were almost there. So close to making it on time, so close to being free. . . well, free in some sense. Quill, and her newfound friend, were just about to make it out of the gate, when they both glanced up to the high battlement ahead of them.
An older elven guard stared down at Evette from the battlement. His long dark hair flowed in the afternoon wind. His dark eyes were blinding, and Eve found herself lost in his gaze. She almost didn't see the carved bow in his hand. He aimed the bow in Evette's direction, a thick blue wooden arrow pulled back. The arrow was ready and waiting to be sent flying. There was something in the man's bold stance, something in the man's eyes. . . his every move was seemingly familiar. Seemingly inhuman. His aura was blossoming with swirls of darkness, swirls of different shapes and shades. He was determined and calm, with hands that didn't shake or twitch with the throbbing beat of his heart. Evette's blood ran cold when she heard her father yell to the man on the battlement, telling him to lower his weapon. They wanted the princess alive, not dead.
The familiar man didn't do as he was ordered. Instead, he let the bowstring go. The arrow that was once pulled back to the knocking point, was suddenly sent flying.
There was a split second, but it felt like a lifetime. Evette raised her hand in the air as she continued to ride forward. The blue of the wooden arrow glowed, but Evette couldn't tell if she was just imagining it. The sharp metal tip of the arrow reflected the sunlight, making it look like it was on fire. It burned with flames of heat as it sped through the air at lightning speed.
The arrow pierced Evette's right palm, and she let out a cry of pain. She momentarily thought she had stopped the arrow from causing any more damage, but she was wrong. The arrow didn't stop when it broke through the skin of Evette's hand, it passed through and continued forward. The action was impossible, but yet, it was happening right before her eyes.
This time, the arrow pierced Quill's chest. The metal was now lodged in her beating heart. Eve held her friend in place, as the beast beneath her still galloped forward with each passing second. Blood from both Evette's hand, and Quill's fatal chest wound dripped down onto Farrah's bare back. The liquid matted in her clean white fur and began to dry a dark brown.
Evette felt tears leak from her eyes. She held onto Quill, who was slowly slipping away. Part of the arrow in her chest broke off, leaving only the metal in Quill's heart. The straight arrow fell to the ground, and was cracked in half when Farrah broke it with her hind legs.
"Quill. . ." It came out in a whisper. Evette turned her friend's body so she could see if her eyes were still open. Quill was still conscious, but she knew she wouldn't last long. She glanced up at her friend, eyes half closed. She placed her pale left hand over her chest.
"It's okay Evette. I'll be okay." Quill murmured, her voice cracking.
Just like that, Evette felt the girl in her arms stop breathing. Quill was gone. Evette couldn't help feel guilt. Could there have been another way out?
As Quill's frail body started to slip off of the back of Farrah, Evette didn't make a move to hold her deceased body in place. She fell off of the horse and onto the ground just inside of the castle's stone walls. Evette wiped a stray tear from her eye and took hold of Farrah's reigns quickly. She ducked under the closing portcullis and barreled onto the drawbridge without looking back. She just couldn't look back. She refused to.
The iron portcullis closed behind Evette, locking everyone behind her inside of the castle walls. The drawbridge was lifting now, and Eve panicked as she sat up straight. There was a slick, warm, bloody heat covering the leather reigns in her hands. She didn't feel the pain of the wound on her palm any longer. Adrenaline took care of that.
Farrah galloped at an incline now. Evette could barely see the edge of the lifting drawbridge, but she knew it was far off. Both the elven king's daughter, and the elven king's horse, eventually reached the edge of the bridge that was no longer flush with the ground. Farrah lifted her front legs and pushed with her hind legs, jumping high.
Everything seemed to pause in slow motion. Evette didn't think she could make it to safety, but Farrah was confident in her jumping skills. She was the king's favored horse for a reason.
All four of Farrah's hooves touched down on the ground. Red dust from the ground now clouded the air, making it hard to see what was ahead. She made it. Evette was on solid ground now; yards away from the stone castle behind her. She glanced back, and lifted her gaze to lock eyes with a single man on the battlement. He narrowed his eyes, careful to give the impression that he was disappointed that the princess got away on horseback. For a split second, the dark haired man's eyes flashed an icy blue, and Evette realized just who he was. She realized why she recognized him, and she couldn't believe her eyes. Argyle's blue eyes were hypnotic. They saw straight through to Evette's heart, mind, and soul.
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