Be as You've Always Been (Lover be Good to Me)

Dog.

'However.' – that one word sent shivers of hope down her spine. Hope is dangerous, she has learnt that the hard way, permanent scars over her body serving as constant reminders. And yet, like a fly you just can't squash, hope buzzed around her brain.

"However?" Her voice climbed out of her lips, leaping off her tongue and darting through the air.

"You, Maria, are one of my best knights; it would be a shame to lose you over a simple mistake, yes?" The King asks rhetorically. His voice was sweet, a tone that brought her back to her childhood bedroom, her father sitting in the living room drunkenly calling out to her. Her body stalled, it refused to move no matter how firmly she pressed the accelerator.

As the King stands and approaches her, the invisible strings tighten around her limbs; a dog on a leash. A bony finger forces her gaze up to meet him, his blue eyes concealing something menacing behind them, but she's already been responsible for the peril of one royal – another would certainly have her executed.

"If you can find my son and return him alive, you will be spared."

The calm mask on her face cracks as a swarm of emotions burrow their way into her stomach like a wasp in a fig.

"I will die if I don't accept, and I will die if I fail," Maria states two facts.

"And you may die on your journey," A third fact. "You know who took him, do you not? You saw her face. You know her name."

Maria nods slowly, a strand of black hair escaping its hold and crusading across her face. "You want me to rescue him, bring him back alive, and my mistake will be overlooked?"

"Your horse is waiting for you."

The puppeteer pulled his marionette to her feet, and with a clank of her amour, she bowed a deep bow. Each step out the door of the throne room, she savoured. It very well might be her last.

Fluffy clouds danced on the horizon, the gentle colours of the rising sun painting them shades of pink, orange and yellow. A scene for fit for an adventure, not a redemption.

The sturdy stone stairs showed her the way down through the courtyard, tall trees telling her their stories as they whisper in the wind, offering her a wisdom she couldn't yet understand, but appreciated nevertheless. Nature had already forgotten the perils of the night prior; the roar of thunder, the pounding alarms, the crack of a bullet, and the deafening silence that came after.

"Your highness?" Maria's voice bounced around the empty room. She left for two minutes. Two minutes. And he was gone. It was 10pm exactly when he was taken. Her one job – her one job: protect the prince. And what did she do? Fuck it up. And now he's in the jaws of some... beast. No, not a beast.

"I'm a tailor," She had told Maria. It was easy to believe her, her blonde hair and bright blue eyes radiated innocence.

"His majesty has been expecting you, I suggest you hurry up. He does not take kindly to tardiness." Maria, of course, was lying. The prince couldn't care less, it was Maria's job to care.

The two women had walked in, and then a loud crack bounced through the hallway. Maria excused herself, drew her sword, and went to investigate. Taking the stairs two at a time, she burst through the door to find... no one?

Questions, queries, doubts, and theories flooded her mind as she climbed back up the stairs. Her small hand gasped the metal doorknob, twisting it, and then her heart dropped through her chest.

"Your highness?" Her voice was laced with panic which grew with every second. It's not that she couldn't feel his presence, but she could feel a void inside her chest. An empty hole in her body producing a disgusting negativity that crashed waves of anxiety over her, filling up her insides until it spilled out of her mouth and nose.

Shit.

And now she was here, wind rushing past her ears as her mighty black mare galloped furiously through the kingdom. She knew exactly where she was going, as if there was a beacon in the sky guiding her path, she was a bloodhound following the scent that would lead her to revenge. To forgiveness. To prince Damion.