Arabella felt sick when she awoke. A deep, churning sickness that spread through her whole body and imprisoned her to the bed that she found herself laying upon. Slowly scanning her surroundings, Arabella realised that she was back in her bed chambers. In the Palace. And she wasn’t alone.
Alaric was sitting in a chair near the window, the sunlight shining through it illuminating his haggard face that had seemingly aged years in a few short days. Looking into his unblinking eyes that were zeroed into her own stimulated something in her memory. It was hazy to start with, trickling into her mind in bits and pieces as she tried to recall how she had got back to the Palace. But then suddenly it all came back to her, the fighting, the bombs, Killian.
The Princess looked up at him from her pos
