Princess Arabella was not the only one affected with insomnia. Lady Rosa did not sleep all night. She was awake trying to come up with a brilliant plan that will send her enemy back to Thule.
She learnt something from the grand queen. Cut the wing's of thy enemy while it is still growing. If she let the princess stay in this palace for long, she will become unstoppable.
Unstoppable? That was the last thing she needed right now.
For years, she watched the prince from afar. He was a handsome man with golden eyes. His long black hair fell on his shoulders and when he walks, it bounced.
Lady Rosalind loved the king for many years now. When grandmother told that she will be offered to the king, she was excited.
Before that, she went fishing with the king. It was fun and she enjoyed every minute they spent together.
When she came back home that day, she told her mother she wanted to get married to him as soon as possible.
The news reached the grand queen and she presented her to the queen mother, who refused to accept her as her daughter in law.
The grand queen did not waste time. She offered Rosa to the king. He rejected her saying he did not wish to get married.
It was embarrassing yet she endured and stayed in the palace with the hope someday, the king will take her in.
It was becoming just a dream. He met Arabella two days ago and proposed to her.
He did not say no to her. Why? Was she more pretty than she was?
Rosalind stood up from the chair and stared at the giant mirror. She looked like a dead person right now because of the lack of sleep and the tears she shed last night.
Her mother used to tell her that she has the most beautiful blue eyes ever. They were irresistible yet the king barely look at her. Was she curse?
Was it because she was not a princess like Arabella?
Many questions kept on running in her mind. She could not find an answer to any of her questions and it made her furious.
She pushed the table in front of the mirror down and the vase crashed.
The broken pieces were tempting.
Rosalind's trembling hand reached out, brushing aside the shattered remnants of a once cherished vase. In the dimly lit room, a single ray of moonlight pierced through the cracks, casting an eerie glow upon her delicate features.
Her eyes, filled with an unbearable weight of despair, stared blankly into the void.
With a sudden, desperate resolve, Rosalind gripped the sharp shard tightly, her knuckles turning pale against the violent storm brewing within her soul.
As her fingers tightened, the cruel edge bit into her fragile skin, its cold touch awakening a symphony of pain that seemed to mirror the depths of her anguish.
A torrent of crimson life surged forth from the wound, staining her trembling arm as it cascaded, an embodiment of her tortured emotions made tangible.
The metallic scent filled the air, mingling with the heaviness of sorrow that clung to every corner of the room.
Time itself seemed to hold its breath as Rosalind's existence teetered on the precipice of eternity.
A heart-wrenching cry escaped her lips, a raw and primal sound that echoed with the weight of a thousand unspoken sorrows.
The world around her blurred, fading into insignificance as her body lost the battle against gravity. Like a fragile petal severed from its stem, she descended, gracelessly, toward the unforgiving ground.
The impact shattered the fragile silence, a chilling reminder of the finality of her actions.
She lay there, her body a mere vessel of pain and despair. Her life force mingled with the pool of spilled blood, a tragic tableau of shattered dreams and broken promises.
In the wake of her fall, the room seemed to hold its breath, caught in a cruel suspension of disbelief.
The walls, witnesses to her torment, stood silently, their paint peeling in muted sympathy.
And in the hushed stillness, a profound realization took hold – that within the depths of human suffering, a poignant reminder of our shared vulnerability lies.
***
I nervously approached the towering iron gate of the cemetery, my heart heavy with grief and anticipation.
Dark storm clouds loomed overhead, matching the somber atmosphere of the place. As I stepped forward, my foot found an unfortunate patch of loose gravel, causing me to lose my balance.
In a split second, my legs flew out from under me, and I found myself hurtling towards the unforgiving ground.
But just as I braced myself for the impact, strong arms wrapped around my waist, halting my fall abruptly. Startled, I looked up to find the piercing golden eyes of King Alistair staring down at me, his expression a mix of concern and surprise.
My mind reeled with confusion. How had the king appeared out of nowhere, precisely at the moment when I needed saving?
"Are you alright?" His voice was deep and commanding, yet laced with a touch of warmth.
I nodded, still too shocked to form words. His presence was both comforting and bewildering, his regal aura radiating an air of authority even in this desolate place. I found myself caught in his gaze, unable to look away.
"You should watch your step," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Cemeteries can be treacherous, especially on days like this."
Finally finding my voice, I stammered, "Thank you, Your Majesty. I... I don't know how you..."
Alistair chuckled softly, his grip on me slowly releasing. "Sometimes, fate has a peculiar way of guiding us to where we need to be. I happened to be passing by, and it seems I arrived just in time."
As he spoke, a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air, accentuating his words. It felt as if the universe itself had conspired to orchestrate this encounter, the stormy backdrop lending an air of mystique to the moment.
At the same time, I thought of what Percival told me earlier. He said the king was at the cemetery. Why was he acting like he just arrived here?
"Thank you, Alistair," I murmured. "I thought you were out cleaning the graves? Do you spend much time here?"
Alistair's eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, a veil momentarily falling over his regal countenance. "The weight of loss is not confined to common folk, my dear. Even kings seek solace and find themselves drawn to places that remind them of their own mortality."
His words resonated within me, touching a deep chord of understanding. In that instant, I saw the king not just as a figure of power but as a man burdened with his own trials and tribulations.
With a graceful nod, Alistair gestured toward the cemetery. "Shall we walk together? Perhaps we can find solace in each other's company amidst these silent tales of the departed."
I nodded, a sense of gratitude filling my heart as we walked side by side, our steps echoing on the cobblestone path.
"Who dead here?" I asked, as we walked side by side. I have lost a sibling before. It was the worst feeling on earth.
"My father," His eyes were black. He must have loved him so much.