The restless crunching of the tyres, caused by the movement towards freedom, was only a small part that made me aware that it was now finally over. Although I had often let it be known in my mind in the past that I was leaving the palace, now it had actually become truth, a fact. I had escaped the clutches of this predator's cage and would live in another one for the rest of my life. There were unspoken words between me and Nicolas that did not let me gaze thoughtlessly through the darkened carriage window. What if I made a mistake? Could I have revolutionised the class system, as Leopold once tried to do? Leopold, another person who had laid down his life in the hope of bringing change. I had repressed the scene on death row, didn't want to think about it. His twitching face, the blank expression in his eyes after he had drunk the glass. Martin breathed softly beside me, I almost forgot he was accompanying me. He had handed in his resignation this morning and renounced his merit badge. Into a world whose unjust caste division still existed and one was condemned for where one came from, he did not want to serve to the bitter end, for an employer. Whose whole gender was responsible for this situation. Martin tried to get close to me, I flinched every time I felt the warmth of his skin. Apparently, he didn't understand that it was still far too premature for me to be aware of receiving anyone other than the crown prince. My weight leaned forward as the carriage stopped abruptly, we stood before the approach to Melody Bridge.
Built in honour of the wedding of Prince Willfred Rafael Kayden and his wife, Royal Consort Melody Isabel O'Brien, in 2097. Prince Willfred, who later became known as, the King for 4 Days, was rumoured to have had 50 forced labourers imported from France to complete the bridge. In the process, eleven of them died, due to a torrential wave, which was the result of an underwater earthquake. The French thought it was an attempted assassination on their country, the Little Englanders denied it. It was the beginning of a spark that fanned enmity and hatred between the two nations. The bridge was not completed until three months later, and for the sake of peace, the remaining workers were offered Little England citizenship. But as it has always been with the French, their national pride was greater than the generosity of the cantons. In short, they returned to their country and never came back.
As we stopped for more than the usual 5 minutes before the bridge, I asked what our onward journey was delayed in. The chauffeur slid down the black partition and looked me in the face through his rear-view mirror: "I am very sorry, my lady, but there had been a rear-end collision on the bridge. The car of an organ-gen dealer drove too fast over the slippery stones, steering itself into the oncoming lane and thundering into the bridge wall. Several other cars drove over the fallen oranges and also slid into the truck. The driver was seriously injured. It seems like it might take longer for the road to be roadworthy again." That the chauffeur still addressed me as my lady flattered me. Of course, now I had to get used to not having a title or anything like that, ever again. "Isn't there any other way, London has quite a few crossings.", Martin grumbled to himself and I wondered why he seemed plain nervous. Was he worried that the longer he lingered near the palace, the more likely they were to come back for him. "There'll be a traffic jam there, especially on the main bridge Kevinsport." "We'll walk then, thank you David," Martin was about to open the car door when the child safety lock clicked into place. David, the chauffeur grabbed his cap and pulled down apologetically for a moment, "Forgive me, but I have orders to drop you off safe and well at home, if not I will lose my job." I cast a quick pan to my companion, he had an expression I couldn't point to. Suddenly my lungs filled with tightness and I began to breathe faster and shorter. I braced my arms against the body of the car. "Please, could I get some fresh air...", I breathed. "Please David, my lady can't breathe, at least lower the window," Martin's voice sounded muffled through my ears. My gaze grew more and more milky. I don't know what the chauffeur said in reply, only that I heard the click of a gun. The ball bearing clicked into place. I jumped up and pressed myself against the door. David's face had contorted into a nasty grimace, with pure madness in his eyes. He had unbuckled himself and twisted over his seat, holding the gun to Martin's skull. "I beg your pardon, my lady, but your companion has made me uncomfortable," the madness in his eyes did not abate. "Let the lady go, David," Martin tried more forcefully. I looked back and forth between the two of them. I realised neither of them would give way. All I could still perceive were my primeval flight instincts. Shots rang out, bullets spinning around inside the car like a car race. I prayed that they would only graze me and not hit me in a life-threatening way. One of the bullets landed next to my right ear and got stuck in the wall along with my hair. I smelled burnt flesh and sunken hair. Another landed in the leather furniture and ate its way in. I huddled into a heap of misery and screamed.
As if my body had been pulled out of the deep water, I was pulled forward by my forearms. I cried out again as my hair was caught. "Oops, we'll have that in a minute," Martin pulled the bullet out of the wall with one glove. "We have to leave, David was an assassin," he explained to me hastily. "What?!", I was in shock and completely confused. "Was? Is he, is he dead?", I whimpered. "Later my love, we need to get out of the car.", he glanced up and pulled at the roof window. My eyes slid to the left, David's body lay motionless over the partition. Blood was dripping from his head. More light was streaming through the ceiling, Martin had been able to push the window aside. Martine knelt down like a robber's ladder, "I'll lift you out." When I saw the light and felt the fresh air around me I felt better. Martin came after me and we slid down. Martin's reassuring grip brought me back from my disillusionment, "He won't hurt you anymore." Tears welled up in my eyes and I felt incredibly tired. From the distance came the sirens and the reporters from the KE!One news channel. Martin made a move for us to leave. "We need to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible," he pulled me by the hand down the stairs to the walkway under the bridge, from there we ran on until the sirens could only be heard faintly. On a park bench I settled down, onlooking walkers with a dog stopped and stared at us. "Go away!" my companion shouted, "There's nothing to see here!" They gave us piqued looks but went on their way again. We remained silent. "You said it was an assassin, but what reason did he have for killing us?", I asked into the silence. "I can't say, I'm sure it wasn't a spontaneous action. The person had known that the limousine was made of bulletproof walls with bulletproof glass and that it was impossible to get out of it." Do you think it was the king and he wanted to make sure I never went back to the palace?" This statement made him think, wrinkles forming on his forehead. "It wouldn't be out of the question, but he knows him very well. He wouldn't have anyone killed just because he didn't like his son's choice." "I'm half-German and a threat to the country in his eyes," I added to my chain of reasoning. At that we both fell silent. A thought crossed my mind, what if this was not the first time King Mehr had had someone eliminated? Had he had Angelina Charu on his conscience?