Katryna nearly felt her heart drop from her very chest. “The…the king?”
But the guard had taken off before he could reply.
Katryna sprinted into the keep, barging through Infinity Guards as they secured the entrances in a frenzy.
“M’lady, wait!” one called out.
It was just sound to her. Katryna made for the main staircase, climbing two steps at a time as the colour washed away her world into a haze of black and white.
Fear took hold.
The ringing of the bells seemed to vibrate within the very walls of the keep, like a deep, sombre groan.
Father. Please, no.
By the time Katryna had reached the corridor to her father’s quarters high up in Castle Bower, she was out of breath and sweating.
The hallway was full of Infinity Guards, all talking nervously amongst themselves in a disorderly state of panic and uncertainty.
Katryna tried to brace herself as best she could as she pushed her way through them. A few hands tried to hold her back, but she shook them off, eyes set on the king’s slightly ajar door.
A smear of blood stained the door, almost like a handprint.
Katryna burst through the door.
Inside were Finn and the High Sword, Ser Arthus Medonia. Finn was knelt beside what looked like a mound of clothing on the floor, tears streaming from his red face.
However, Katryna realised that a bloody hand was sticking out from the pile. It wasn’t a mound of clothing at all.
It was Aunt Rashel, lying flat on her back in her gown and thick mantle, completely lifeless.
Katryna cried out and fell to her aunt’s side, taking Rashel’s hand into her own.
A pool of blood collected around her stone-like body. Her dead eyes were open, staring coldly at the ceiling.
“No, no, no,” Katryna gasped.
Finn, crouched by his sister’s side, let out a moan of despair as he gently tried to cradle his dead aunt.
“Aunt Rashel, please wake up,” Finn begged, trying to shake her to no avail.
Katryna attempted to find the source of the bleeding with her hands, patting Aunt Rashel over the chest and torso. She pulled her hands back when she felt something wet.
They were covered in thick patches of blood.
Her dress had multiple rips and tears in it from which the blood seeped out. It looked as though she had been stabbed many times. Violently, without any sort of regret.
Rashel’s skin grew paler and colder to the touch as Katryna and Finn sobbed.
Katryna looked up at Arthus Medonia, who was seated on the king’s bed, beside Giliam’s body. “Please, help us,” Katryna begged. “Help my aunt.”
Arthus Medonia stared, unblinking and with tear-filled eyes, at Katryna. Katryna cast her eyes to Medonia’s hand- he was holding the king’s hand.
She looked at her father’s face and let out another wail.
Katryna jumped up and rushed over to her father’s bedside, screaming in denial. Giliam’s throat had been slit wide open, his sheets stained red.
“No, father! Please!” Katryna wept.
She held on to him as tightly as she could, trying to warm his lifeless body back up.
It was no use.
Giliam, and Aunt Rashel, were both dead. Murdered.
Arthus Medonia threw his helmet off, tossing it to the floor, and dropped his face into his hands.
Finn, a bubbling mess of tears and saliva, dragged himself to his sister’s side to see his father. He was already so full of grief that the sight barely had a visible impact on him.
Katryna grabbed her brother and held him tight, trying to squeeze the pain away. She wept into his shoulder.
“Why?” she cried.
“My lady,” Arthus said, “my prince. We need to… we must…”
His words faded into nothingness. The siblings couldn’t hear him even if they wanted to in the moment. Finn embraced his sister tightly.
Arthus was lost for words, as if his whole life’s worth of training had simply been erased in an instant.
Katryna stared at her father lying motionless in his bloody bed. His pillow and sheets had been stained red, sticking to his skin.
She took her eyes over to her dead aunt laying awkwardly on the ground like a broken toy as if she had attempted to protect her dying brother, the king.
Who could have done this?
Katryna had never felt such fury. It sprung out from within- a surge of adrenaline to do something, anything, to find who was responsible.
She released her brother, wiping the tears from her face and taking some deep breaths to calm the maelstrom in her chest and mind.
Katryna clenched her fists so tightly that her fingernails drew blood, looking at the scene of carnage around her.
“Ser Arthus,” Katryna muttered.
The High Sword wiped his face clean with a handkerchief before picking up his helmet. “Aye, my lady?”
“Put the city into lockdown. No one enters or exits Ravenrock without permission from me,” she stated with clenched teeth. “Send the Infinity Guard to round up every single person in the castle and have them questioned as to their recent whereabouts and knowledge of what has happened.”
The High Sword looked over to Finn, almost as if seeking confirmation from the prince. He was just as unsure as the siblings were as to who would be in charge now that the king was dead.
Had Rowan done this? If so, they had to act before it got any worse.
Finn looked to Katryna, and back at Ser Arthus, before nodding, approving of his sister’s commands.
Two of the three king’s children were enough for Arthus. He slid his helmet back on and went for the door with certainty in each footstep.
“What the fuck do we do, Kat?” Finn whispered to her. “I can’t do this.”
She shut her eyes tight, seeking guidance, answers, direction. Something. Anything. She drew in a sharp breath.
“And Ser Arthus?” Katryna said as he held
