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      Her back was against the door and she was sitting on the floor,  hugging her knees close to herself

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      Her back was against the door and she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees close to herself. And trying to take everything in. She took a deep breath as she tried to blink the tears away. Alone again. She wiped some tears from her eyes and kept silent, not daring to whimper out loud or even squeak.

     Diarmuid had already tried to enter the room for ten minutes, but after she ordered him to leave, he was obedient—as he always was. How was she going to return to Camelot by herself? She could not even imagine the turmoil that it could have possibly been in after loosing the prince and the King. Her head ached every time she tried to think about her life and her country. It was going to be hard to demonstrate that she was the prince that they all had been looking for.

     She leaned her head back against the wooden door and sighed. Rubbing her face with her hands, she wished to think of something much more brighter than what was happening to her. She had enough of the previous miserable months to last her a life time. She knew that she had seen war and big tragedies, but her own life had fallen apart in less than five months. For the slightest of seconds, she wished she had perished long ago in a battle so that she would not have had to endure everything that happened.

     She awoke to knocking and the door knob rattling a little behind herself. She grumbled as she lifted her head from her knees and rubbed her right eye with the palm of her hand. Her neck ached from the position she had slept in—still curled up by the door.

     The knocking became louder and she made an effort to speak and not sound as if she had just awoken, "Could you please wait for a minute or two?" She mumbled lightly, not meaning to sound rude but her voice was harsh. She pulled herself up from the floor and swallowed before cracking the door open a tad bit, "Pardon me?" It took her eyes a while to adjust to the light of the day and she yawned again.

     "My master," Diarmuid stood silently before her, "are you awake?" He hushed.

     She furrowed her brows and blinked, "Uh," she began, "Of course I am, you are speaking to me."

     There was a soft blush that tinted his cheeks and he brought a hand to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment, "I meant to ask if you were feeling alright, milady."

     Arturia brought a hand to her mouth as she covered her yawn and then ran said hand through her hair, "I am quite alright, thank you." Her voice was a soft murmur but he was able to hear her properly because the tavern was not yet busy and rowdy.

     He gave her a small smile and nodded, "Perfect," he could see that she was not as well as she claimed to be but he was not going to question her any further, "Well, milady, if you still wish for me to escort you to Camelot then you must prepare because the ship is to depart when the sun is at it's highest."

     She slowly nodded and then looked out the window to see where the sun was currently at, "Would that be anytime soon?" she mumbled as she could not see the shadows of the sun from her position by the door.

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