"Princess Ira! Please come here!"
"Arabella, no!"
"It's okay, my loyalty lies to you first."
Arabella pushes Princess Ira to a secret passage while closing the door behind her. Ira can't imagine what's going on behind those doors.
The blood-curdling scream behind those closed doors only fills Ira with guilt and realization.
She is no longer the princess of the great Iskandria. She is on her own, watching her parents brutally slaughtered in front of her.
It's a miracle that she has survived this far, but now that she has lost her faithful maid, her chances of survival are slim.
She couldn't keep going; she didn't know what lay ahead of her now. Her legs failed her, and the dread of danger crushed her spirit.
The faintest hint of blood didn't go unnoticed; the smell made her wish that her six senses would be failing her now.
She refuses to accept this reality.
People around her would even get uneasy when she's exposed to the faintest of blood; after all, she's Iskandria's purest princess, isn't she?
Ira lifted her dress, avoiding any corpse that came her way. She turned her eyes away and held her nose; she couldn't look at the people she failed to protect.
She may not have raised a sword, but her desire to safeguard her people forced her to turn away from the unfortunate scene.