A Royal's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1 - "We have to go!"

Lydia

Blood. So much blood. Everywhere. The metallic tang of it crowded the air, clogging Lydia's nose. The smell thick enough she could taste it choking her. Blood roared in her ears, drowning out the screams. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

From the shadowed alcove she had snuck into earlier to watch the whirl of the ball, Lydia stared at the carnage that now replaced the glittering ballroom. Guards cut down where they stood beside the throne dais.

The blood dripping down the neck of the King, his body crumpled on the dais, a marionette with his strings cut. Blood stained the midnight blue, silk dress of the queen's, right over her heart, an ugly flower bloom. Blood everywhere.

A hand ripped Lydia out of her petrified state. Screaming, she jerked away, head knocking against the white sandstone wall. Her heart spiked with panic, making her blood surge through her.

"Ly!" Wilder shouted at her, reaching for her again. "We have to go!"

Gripping her arm, he hauled out of the protection of the alcove. She stumbled, her legs unwilling to move, shock stunning her. Before she could force herself to run, a man with a gleaming blade and wearing the stolen uniform of a servant charged them.

Wilder shoved Lydia behind him, barely dodging the slash of the attacker. In a flash, Wilder stepped into the man's space, jerked his elbow up, smashing the man's nose. As the man grunted in pain, Wilder seized the moment, tearing the sword from the attacker's hand and bringing the handle down hard on the man's head. The man collapsed, unconscious.

Clutching the sword, Wilder took hold of Lydia's hand. He had strong, familiar fingers. They tightened around hers, silently urging her to stay with him, to trust him.

Wilder guided Lydia along the wall of the ballroom towards one of the curved archways. Nobles rushed by them, flashes of brightly colored silks and hair in disarray. Metal clashing with metal echoed off the domed ceiling as soldiers fought against the disguised assassins.

Don't look back. Don't look back. You can't look back. But Lydia didn't listen to the voice screaming in her head, she had to look back. Bile rose in her throat as she glanced behind her.

Crown prince Corwin lay sprawled on the tiled floor at the base of the dais, his seafoam green eyes staring unseeing at the golden ceiling. Near him, Prince Reen held one hand to his chest where the dagger protruded, confusion molded on his face. Princess Vienna, chiffon gown pooled around her, legs twisted at an odd angle, blood seeping into her auburn hair. Hair the color of the sand as the setting sun struck it.

They couldn't be left like this. This beautiful family cut down within a breath. Five lives stolen away. Her family stolen away. Lydia couldn't leave them. She pulled her hand from Wilder's, racing back to the prone bodies, shoving her away through the stampeding crowd. They couldn't be left like this. She had to help them.

A man appeared in front of Lydia's path. She staggered back, slipped on the hem of her dress, and crashed to the floor. As the man lunged for her, Lydia scrambled backwards into the chaos of fleeing nobles. A boot crushed her fingers and she cried out. A hand clamped on her arm, yanking her upward. Fear tore through her as she knew a blade lay somewhere close, ready to steal her life too.

The hand on her arm slackened as the light in the man's eyes died. Lydia watched as the man slumped, revealing Wilder standing behind him, face contorted with fury. Shaking with shock and terror, Lydia couldn't find the words. Wilder didn't care to hear them, taking her hand once again and pulling her away. This time she went, not looking back.

They broke away from the fleeing nobles, sprinting through the airy hallways lined with archways dressed with gauzy curtains that billowed with the night wind. At every flicker, Wilder swung his sword around, the fluttering curtains creating enemies that weren't real. But the shouts and thundering footsteps pursuing them were real and spurred them on.