Frenzied shouts carried through the night air, and the girl didn't dare slow her footfalls, for fear that any number of the voices she heard might wish her harm. She clutched at the hand of her mother on her left, and of her youngest brother on the right, their grasps sweaty and slick and their breathing hard.
A sudden shout, louder than the rest, and a noise that only gradually reached her ears and pulled at her senses, demanding recognition.
She turned, once, to look from whence she came, and gasped, her shock freezing her still on the spot. Her mother, her brother, and her other two sisters turned to look as well and they all stood there, in a terrible sort of immobility as the spectacle unfolded before them.
The magnificent palace, with all its high-turreted towers, its gleaming windows, and its cheerfully-gabled rooftops burnt to the sky, flames licking at the bottom floor, growing higher and higher as the moments passed.
The girl knew not what compelled her forward but found herself straining forward, reaching a feeble hand to her home as if her desperation might keep it from ruin. Tears streaked her dirty face and she felt weak-kneed. Her mother clutched her hand tightly, imploring her in quiet words, so as not to be overheard, that they mustn't linger too long. She could hear her mother's tears, evident in her choked voice.
She fell to her knees and watched the burning of her beautiful home once more, the flames dancing eerily across her face. She wondered where she would find the strength to get up, to move.
She watched the soldiers in their navy and gold and white uniforms, swarming around the grounds, every once in a while breaking into a scuffle with the few resistors that remained.
She heard a scream, or more of a groan or a cry of desperation, and recognized it a moment later as her own.
Her mother and her eldest brother, who had just run up, ash on his face, grabbed her hand more tightly, pulled her to her feet and led her, stumbling through the forests, away from the castle.
She couldn't help but one more glance backwards, as the building that had once seemed so powerful and strong and safe and impenetrable collapsed in on itself.
Borgavia was dead.
YOU ARE READING
Astoria
FantasyM E R E D I T H is a princess without a country. Her family, formerly the royal family of Borgavia, has been exiled from their home, forced to live under the rule of the Empire of Astoria. A N T O N Y is a prince who doesn't want a crown. Soon to be...
