Eliana lay in her bed, her body still and her mind hidden in a fog of pain and confusion. The room was dimly lit, with heavy curtains drawn to block out the bright midday sun. She could hear the muffled sounds of the palace beyond her door—the shuffling of servants, the distant conversations of the nobles, and the occasional clatter of armor from the guards patrolling the halls.
Every breath was a struggle, her chest rising and falling at regular intervals. The poison that coursed through her veins left her weak and helpless, unable to move or cry out. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness, and the world around her was a blur of faces and voices.
Then, through the haze, she heard the soft, intentional footsteps of someone approaching her bed. Her heart quickened, a flicker of fear and hope mingling in her chest. As the footsteps drew nearer, she recognized their familiar presence. Mara.
A shiver ran down Eliana's spine as Mara leaned close, her breath warm against Eliana's ear. "Oh, Eliana," Mara whispered, her voice filled with mock concern. "How the mighty have fallen."
Eliana tried to speak, to demand an explanation, but her lips refused to form the words. Her eyes, though heavy and unfocused, managed to fix on Mara's face.
Mara's expression was a mask of cold satisfaction. "I suppose it's only fitting, isn't it? You, lying here, are helpless and weak. You always thought you were so much better than the rest of us. Always so noble, so righteous."
Eliana's mind raced, struggling to comprehend the depth of Mara's betrayal. This was her childhood friend, the one she had trusted with her life.
"You never saw it coming, did you?" Mara continued, her voice a venomous hiss. "So blind in your naivety, so confident in your own virtue. You never even suspected that those closest to you might have other plans."
Eliana's heart ached with a mixture of betrayal and sorrow.
Mara's eyes glinted with malice as she leaned even closer. "You see, Eliana, while you were busy playing queen, the rest of us were plotting your downfall. Cedric and I have been planning this for months. We knew you would never be strong enough to lead Lyonesse. You were always too soft, too idealistic."
Eliana's mind screamed in protest, but her body remained unresponsive. She wanted to lash out and fight back, but the poison held her captive.
"And now," Mara whispered, her voice taking on a cruel edge, "we will take everything from you. Your kingdom, your crown, and your legacy. Lyonesse will be ours to rule, and you will be nothing more than a forgotten footnote in history."
Tears welled in Eliana's eyes as her heart broke under the weight of Mara's words. She had always believed in the goodness of people, in the strength of friendship and loyalty. But now, as she lay there, powerless and betrayed, she realized just how blind she had been.
Mara straightened, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Rest well, Eliana. You won't be waking up anytime soon. And by the time you do, it will be too late."
With that, Mara turned and left the room, her footsteps fading into the distance.
Eliana's mind drifted in and out of consciousness, the poison's grip relentless. She felt as if she were drowning in a sea of despair, unable to surface for air. Each time she slipped into darkness, Mara's cruel words echoed in her ears, tormenting her with their venom.
-----------------------------------
Suddenly, a noise jolted her from her unconscious. The door to her chamber creaked open again, and she braced herself for another visit from her betrayer. But this time, the footsteps were heavier and more deliberate. A figure loomed over her, and she strained to make out the features through her blurred vision.
It was Cedric.
"Eliana," he murmured, his voice a mockery of the tender tones he had used before. "How are you feeling, my dear?"
She wanted to scream at him and curse his name, but her body remained unresponsive. All she could do was stare at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hatred and heartbreak.
Cedric chuckled at a cold, lifeless sound. "You look so helpless. It's almost endearing." He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, the gesture sickeningly tender. "I have to admit, I almost feel sorry for you. Almost."
He sat on the edge of her bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip slightly. "Mara and I have big plans for Lyonesse, you see. Plans that don't involve you. But don't worry; we'll take good care of your kingdom. After all, someone has to."
Eliana's eyes blazed with fury, and for a moment, Cedric's smile faltered. "Ah, there it is," he said softly. "That fire, that spirit. It's a shame, really. You could have been a formidable queen. But you're too trusting, too naive. And now, you'll pay the price for your foolishness."
As Cedric spoke, Eliana's mind began to clear, a flicker of determination piercing through the haze. She couldn't let them win. She couldn't let them destroy everything her father had built. Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she focused on one thought: survival.
Cedric rose from the bed, his demeanor shifting from mock tenderness to cold calculation. "We have a lot to do and not much time. Mara will be back soon to make sure you stay compliant. But don't worry; we'll make sure you're comfortable. For now."
With that, he turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. Eliana's heart pounded in her chest, the need to escape growing stronger with each passing moment. She knew she had to act fast, but the poison still held her in its merciless grip.
As the minutes ticked by, she focused on her breathing, willing her body to respond. Slowly and agonizingly, she felt a slight tingling in her fingertips. It wasn't much, but it was a start. She latched onto that small spark of hope.
Hours seemed to pass in a blur of pain and determination. She concentrated on moving her fingers, then her hands, then her arms. Each movement was a battle, and each victory was a small triumph. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought against the poison, refusing to give in.
Finally, she managed to sit up, her body trembling with the effort. The room spun around her, but she forced herself to stay upright. She had to escape. She had to warn her people.
Eliana swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold stone floor. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to stand. Her legs wobbled, threatening to collapse beneath her, but she clung to the bedpost, steadying herself.
Step by agonizing step, she made her way to the door. Her vision blurred, but she refused to stop. Each step was a testament to her resolve, a promise to herself and her kingdom that she would not be defeated.
Reaching the door, she leaned against it, gathering her strength. She knew she couldn't confront Mara and Cedric directly—not in her current state. She needed allies—someone she could trust. Her mind raced, thinking of those who might still be loyal to her.
With a deep breath, she turned the handle and slipped out into the corridor. The palace was eerily quiet, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a heavy silence. She moved as quickly and quietly as she could, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger.
Eliana knew the palace like the back of her hand. She took the back passages, avoiding the main corridors where she might be spotted. Her destination was clear: the chambers of Sir Gareth, the captain of her guard. If there was anyone she could trust, it was him.
As she neared his quarters, she heard voices—raised and urgent. She pressed herself against the wall, listening intently.
"Sir Gareth, we must act now! The queen is in danger!" a voice insisted.
"Quiet, man! Do you want to alert the entire palace?" Gareth's voice, stern and commanding, silenced the other.
Eliana's heart leaped with hope. Summoning her remaining strength, she stepped into the doorway. "Gareth," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Help me."
The room fell silent as Gareth and his men turned to see her, their faces a mix of shock and relief. Gareth rushed to her side, supporting her as she nearly collapsed into his arms.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice filled with concern. "What has happened?"
Eliana took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto his. "Mara and Cedric," she began, her voice gaining strength. "They've betrayed us. They're planning to take the throne."
Gareth's expression hardened, and his jaw set with determination. "We will protect you, Your Majesty. We will not let them succeed."
Eliana leaned heavily on Sir Gareth as they made their way through the hidden corridors of the palace. Each step was a struggle, but determination fueled her movements. She had to escape. She had to warn her people. Gareth, ever vigilant, guided her with a firm hand.
"We need to reach the stables," Gareth whispered, glancing around to ensure they were not being followed. "Once we have horses, we can ride to the countryside and gather our allies."
Eliana nodded, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The poison still coursed through her veins, its effects making every movement an ordeal. But she refused to give in. Not now. Not when her kingdom needed her the most.
As they approached a side door leading to the stables, a chilling voice echoed down the corridor. "Going somewhere, my dear?"
Eliana's heart sank as Cedric stepped out of the shadows, a mocking smile on his face. He was flanked by a group of armed guards, their expressions cold and unyielding.
"Seize them," Cedric ordered, his voice dripping with contempt.
Gareth drew his sword, his stance protective, as he placed himself between Eliana and Cedric's men. "Run, Your Majesty," he urged, his eyes never leaving their foes. "I'll hold them off."
Eliana hesitated, torn between her desire to fight and her need to survive. But Gareth's fierce gaze left no room for argument. With a nod, she turned and fled down the corridor, her legs trembling beneath her.
Cedric's laugh echoed behind her. "You can't escape, Eliana! You have nowhere to run!"
Panic fueled her steps as she sprinted through the palace, her vision blurring with tears and exhaustion. She could hear the sounds of battle behind her—Gareth's shouts mixing with the clash of steel. She prayed that he would be all right and that he could hold them off long enough for her to find a way out.
Her path led her to the grand balcony, overlooking the palace gardens. She burst through the doors, the fresh air hitting her like a wave. But her relief was short-lived as another tremor wracked her body, causing her to double over in pain. Blood spattered the ground as she coughed, her strength waning.
Gareth appeared at her side, his armor dented and bloodied. He wrapped an arm around her, supporting her as she struggled to stand. "We need to keep moving, Your Majesty," he urged, his voice strained. "We can't let them catch us."
Eliana nodded weakly, leaning heavily on Gareth as they made their way to the edge of the balcony. But Cedric and his guards were relentless, closing in on them with every passing moment.
"There's no escape, Eliana," Cedric called out, his voice closer now. "Surrender, and I'll make sure your death is quick."
Eliana's eyes darted around, searching for any means of escape. Below the balcony, she saw it—a swift-moving river, its waters dark and churning. It was their only chance.
Gareth followed her gaze and nodded, understanding immediately. "Hold on, Your Majesty," he said, his voice filled with determination and a trace of sorrow.
With a final glance at Cedric and his men, Gareth scooped Eliana into his arms. She clung to him, her body wracked with pain and fear. "Gareth," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't leave me."
"I won't, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice steady. "But you must survive. For Lyonesse."
He carried her to the edge of the balcony, the roar of the river growing louder. Cedric's shouts grew more frantic as he realized what they were about to do. "Stop them! Stop them now!"
Gareth turned to face Cedric, his expression resolute. "For Lyonesse," he repeated, and then he threw her into the river.
Eliana's scream was lost in the rush of the wind and the roar of the water. She hit the icy river with a splash, the cold shock stealing her breath away. The current grabbed hold of her, pulling her under and tossing her about like a ragdoll. She fought to keep her head above water, gasping for air, but the river was relentless.
Above her, Gareth stood at the edge of the balcony, his sword raised. Cedric and his guards rushed forward, but Gareth held his ground. "You'll never win, Cedric," he spat, his voice filled with defiance. "Eliana will survive. And she will reclaim her throne."
Cedric sneered, drawing his own sword. "You fool. You can't protect her. Not from me."
Gareth lunged at Cedric, their swords clashing with a metallic ring. He fought with every ounce of strength he had left, his movements driven by a fierce determination to buy Eliana as much time as possible. The guards closed in, but Gareth's skill and ferocity kept them at bay.
"Go, Your Majesty," Gareth whispered, his heart heavy but resolute. "Live. Fight. For Lyonesse."
As Eliana was swept downstream, the last thing she saw was Gareth, a lone figure standing against the tide of darkness, his sword flashing in the dying light.