(-Becoming Royal-)

Finale

The castle of Everglen held it's breath.

Nearly a month ago, everyone had been told that a war was upcoming.

Now, with one day separating either the rise or fall of the kingdom, no one was able to hide their fear.

"I wish I could fight with them," Sophie sighed and sat on the edge of her bed.

"I know," Fitz walked over, sitting next to her and tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "But you can't. We doubled the military, upgraded our weapons, we're prepared. They wish you could be there to help them, but you're not in the condition."

"You can barely tell I'm pregnant," she scowled, slugging him in the arm.

"Ow!" He laughed. "I know, and you look as beautiful as ever, but we don't want to risk anything."

She sighed, flopping back on the bed. "You're right. I just want to help. But I know, I can't. Besides, my mother and father would freak out."

He smiled. "Well, we best get some rest."

She climbed under the covers and Fitz tucked her in.

He fell asleep staring into her eyes. But once they were closed, and his breathing had gone slow, Sophie crawled out of bed.

She grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled something down, and walked back over to the bed, placing it carefully on her pillow.

She changed into armor, the breastplate shone with the look of brand new armor. Under, she wore a thick white shirt.

Metal boots matched her top, and so did her pants.

She wished she had more armor, but they had strictly forbidden her from fighting. What she had was what she could sneak from the armory.

As she headed for the door, she looked back at Fitz. He looked so peaceful, and Sophie wondered if it would be the last time she ever saw him.

Her brow furrowed in determination. She put her sword in a sheath on her hip and headed toward the door.

The night air was warm, but the looming feeling of death clouded Sophie's mind.

She didn't want anyone to get injured, so she had arrived at the field early. An hour early. She knew the hopes of winning the war all by herself were unrealistic. But she had to try.

When she made it to a bit of flat ground, she stopped to catch her breath.

"I need to get into better shape," she huffed to herself.

"I don't particularly thing so," a voice shot into Sophie's ears like bullets.

She looked up and immediately stumbled backwards.

"Oh come on," Fintan rolled his eyes. "You can't come to my war and not expect to see me,"

"I'm not sure i'd ever want to see you,"

"Yes, but this isn't a matter of want. This is a matter of what must be done."

"What?" Sophie stepped closer. "What is the purpose of a war? We have done nothing to you!"

"Do you listen?!" He stepped closer, so closer Sophie could feel his breath on her face. She turned away. "I've already told you this had to do with your creators."

"Why?! What did they do then?!"

"They made you. Do you know your true purpose?" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

He sighed when she didn't respond. "Of course they wouldn't tell you. You were made to beat us. And trust me, little princess, I don't want you to die. But my armies won't fall to your pathetic kingdoms."