Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 44

She'd just killed the king.

Shock kept her frozen, even as his blood stained her gown, and she could hear the thunder of approaching footsteps.

Arysa had just killed the king.

He was dead. Her uncle. Demian's father. Their king.

He was dead.

And his blood was on her hands.

"Arysa!"

She jerked at Serden's voice, her head snapping towards the castle. He rushed towards her, panic in his eyes.

"What happened?!"

He stopped beside her, and when his eyes found the dagger in the king's chest, he went stiff.

"Arysa," He said quietly.

"He killed my parents." Arysa breathed. Nothing was sinking in. Nothing felt real anymore. "He was going to kill me."

Serden sucked in a breath and then he moved quickly, snatching the dagger out of the kings chest and replacing it with one of his that didn't have a crest. He looked up and his fingers twitched and one after another, the guards watching from the ramparts crumpled. He spun on his heel and rushed down the street, calling out as he did so.

"Gaurds! Gaurds!"

The soldiers already making their way towards the castle broke into a run, but one after another they stumbled to a stop at the sight of the king crumpled dead on the ground.

"The king has been assassinated." Serden said to them, quietly so as not to cause panic. "I want all of you to scour this city." He ordered. "Do not come back to me until you have found this assassin. All Arysa saw of him was an unfamiliar crest on his dark cloak. He has killed our king and injured our princess! Bring him here, dead or alive!"

The guards dispersed and Arysa and Serden were left alone with the leader of the group. Serden spoke with the leader quietly, careful to keep her out of ear's reach.

A messenger rushed up the street to Lord Dreadroot and the captain.

"My Lord, Prince Demian has returned."

Arysa nearly threw up. She stumbled to her feet, her blood-stained hand covered her mouth as panic burnt holes in her stomach. She jolted as hands grabbed hold of her arms, spinning around so fast she lost her balance. Serden held her up and she grabbed onto the collar of his tunic.

"The Vella." She gasped. "General Ackbane. I have to stop him."

She tried to twisted away, but Serden held tight.

"No." He whispered shortly. "You stay here. I'll take care of it."

Arysa trembled as he lowered her to the steps, and she could only stare wide eyed as he ordered the captain to watch over her and vanished into the city.

The pounding of hoofbeats announced Demian's arrival. He threw himself off his horse and fell to the ground beside his father. And for a long time, he just sat there, staring. Then he looked up, his red-rimmed eyes finding Arysa's.

"How could this have happened?" His voice broke. "How did they get into the castle? How did–how did–how could—" He lowered his head into his hands and a quiet sob tore from his throat.

"I'm so sorry." Arysa breathed. She couldn't move, couldn't look at him. She sat, frozen, on the steps, covered in the blood of her best friend's father. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." Demian brushed his father's hair out of his eyes and gently closed them. "You did all you could. You shouldn't blame yourself. Thank you, thank you for trying."