"Those fools! Do they think this will hold me!"

She spoke empty words in hatred. Her fight had all but left her.

The tower was little worse than the dungeons. Cleaner though. The little upstart seemed to care for the conditions she was kept in. But her restraints were utterly humiliating.

Ammorettallia was bound about the arms with a thick cloth lik a tight shawl. Swaddled so tightly she could not move and sleeves about her arms and past her fingers so that she could not scratch herself as the doctor had explained. She was bound. And she had to be helped to do anything other than hobble about this noise dampened room. Nothing to kick, nothing to hit, and her screams reached no one.

"How dare the weed strangle the rose in this way! I will not be humiliated with such disrespect!"

She spoke to no one in particular. They all thought she was mad. They'd learn. Someday she'd be free.

The familiar sound of a key in the door came and she wished she could scream at them and actually see them leave. But no, they'd come in, give her a bath, dress and bind her once more, and leave her be if they didn't restrain her to a bed they'd bring along. The days here were torture. There was no freedom.

"My lady, hurry! The guards have all been taken care of! We must be quick!"

Hope flooded through her like adrenaline and she smiled at the unfamiliar man who had come for her. Her family must have sent him.

"About time! Get me out of here!"

He rushed to her side and unbound her. Her foot was still bandaged but she could move well on it. She needed to get away from this horrid place as quickly as possible.

"What news?"

"The guards have all been given a sleep draught. We have a carriage waiting for you at the livery stables. We must hurry."

She followed him, a proud sense of accomplishment overtaking her. They thought they could lock her away and call her mad? They would pay dearly for their crimes. When she rose to power, this whole place would be reduced to rubble. Plans formed in her mind of what she would do and she could almost taste it. Her rein would be bathed in blood.

They made it down the first winding stair and she saw the guard lying against the wall. She couldn't kick him but thought of something better. Her hands grabbed his slumbering shoulders and flung him over the edge. His fall ending far below in a reverberating crack. They could all expect the same and she smiled and laughed with a rabid sort of hysteria.

They came to the next flight and she found herself stopped.

"What are you waiting for? Move!"

"He doesn't listen to you, Ammorettallia."

She looked around him and the breath was knocked from her.

"You... I killed you..."

The ebony hair, the cool and dark brown eyes, the red lips, and that porcelain heart shaped face. It couldn't be. But there she was. Breath in her lungs and blood in her veins. What cruel trickery was this?

She stepped around and nearly lunged for her, but the man who'd freed her grabbed her by the arm and kicked out her knees so she went to the stone floor hard. He wrenched her hands behind her and held them tightly together.

"AAUGH!"

The girl laughed so lightly you'd have thought she saw a puppy and kitten playing.

"Ammorettallia, a lady ought not raise her voice so."

She looked up from the pain and her teeth ground together as she looked upon her cousin.

"Anemone..."

"It's Countess Forsyth now. Sorry I couldn't invite you to the wedding. I was quite busy being dead... You understand."

This was a trap. She'd set this up, and for what? To gloat?

"You released me, why?"

She seemed to pick off a piece of lint from her over the elbow gloves then brushed her silver silk skirt to remove any imaginary dust from this place. She'd always been so neat. So picky.

"To let you know I'll be taking the throne today. It's your worst nightmare isn't it? Me having something you wanted. I couldn't think of what else to get you, so I thought seeing it for yourself might be a good present for my coronation."

She smirked at her.

"No, actually. Your little game of revenge has fallen quite short. When you kill that weed that married the Prince, give her my regards."

Her brown eyes brightened and that innocent looking face pouted into a sweet look of surprise.

"Oh! Chammielle? No, no, dear Ammorettallia. She won't die. The Earl has already promised her to one of our most influential informants. I didn't know she irked you so. She has my thanks, to be sure."

Her face fell. She'd take the throne but leave the ragweed alive?!

"No! She has to die! I'm going to hang her from the walls of the palace! SHE HAS TO DIE!"

"Oh dear. You really are mad. Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it then. Best to get on with it."

Ammorettallia jerked at the man holding her down. His hand went to her hair and gripped it at the top of her head.

"HOW DARE YOU! RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT! I WILL BE QUEEN! I WILL BE QUEEN!"

The dainty girl held out her hand and a man behind her handed her a proper executioner's sword.

"My my, these are quite heavy aren't they?"

She held it with both hands and the tip of it still dragged along the stone ground.

"NO! YOU HAVE TO KILL HER! I HAVE TO SEE IT! MY REVENGE MUST BE COMPLETE! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

"Goodbye, cousin."

She swung the sword and it looked so childish. She nearly laughed at her, but then her head felt light and the world around her rolled upside down. Things were dizzy and she could only think there was so much she wanted to do still.

The last thing her eyes saw was the happy red lips of her childhood best friend. Upside down from the floor.

...

Will jerked his head and looked around him. She chuckled at his restlessness.

"Did you dream?"

He scratched at his head and smiled.

"Yes...care for me to demonstrate what I was dreaming about? It was rather good. I think you'll enjoy it."

She looked out the window and shook her head at him.

"We're an hour away from the Capital. You hardly slept last night and I'm tired, too. Thanks in no small part to you."

He shook his hair out and sat up straighter. The coach jostling lightly.

"Have I told you how lovely you look today?"

Now in a royal carriage, she'd been dressed in a pale pink tulle dotted with so many bluebells cascading down the length of it to pile about the hem of the large skirt. The sleeves were off the shoulder and a little loose, but it fit her excellently otherwise. She wore the pink diamond choker he'd given her, and the ring, and the hair jewels. The gold ring he'd gifted her was hidden beneath her glove.

"Possibly. I can't seem to remember..."

She was being cheeky and she knew it. He dove for her face and captured her lips.

"You're beautiful. In anything you are beautiful, but today you are resplendent in something worthy of you."

I am beautiful. I am intelligent. I am strong. I am worthy.

It made her smile. In such a short time, she'd been transformed into such a confident woman. She guessed Alfrina really did have something to do with that.

"Well I hope you like it, because you paid a great deal for all of it."

He knelt down on the carpeted floor and found the hem of the large ball gown at her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you what dreams are made of, and my appreciation."

He lifted the layers and disappeared under the skirt like it was some great tent to hide under.

"Will!"

His hands were at her knees and then higher and she felt weak.

"W-Will..."

"Hush, or you'll make Augustus and the footman uncomfortable..."

She moaned and put her hand over her mouth.

Then the coach lurched and halted.

His head came back out from under all the frills and she tried not to laugh at the state of his electrified hair.

"See? What did I tell you, you noisy little killjoy. Now they've stopped."

She couldn't help it and giggled at the pout he was giving her.

"Yes, but I wasn't that loud. You'd only just...started."

He turned and looked at the drawn curtains and sat properly in the seat across from her. Smoothing down his hair and wiping his mouth. She blushed.

"I'm going to go see why we've stopped. You stay there, and wait for me. I won't be long. I'm going to show you my appreciation no matter how loud you get."

He opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him.

Chammielle huffed and breathed deeply. Her husband was just too exuberant. He'd be the death of her.

...

Bram stood and waited. The footman had already been dragged off and Sir Rosenblum lay unconscious in the gravel road. Blood trickled from his head where he'd been struck, but he hadn't wanted to kill him. He was beholden to Chammielle. He'd keep him around.

Finally the carriage door opened and the Prince stepped out.

"Augustus, where are we that we're..."

His eyes landed on the man in question. Then found him.

"A quiet little road near a waterfall, your highness. Excellent place for highwaymen to stop coaches. You really ought to have had your driver take the road through Linster. It's quaint, though a bit longer."

The Prince's eyes gauged him and he walked forward.

The sound of chirping birds in the meadow nearby made the whole thing seem so calm. What a beautiful day it had to be. It couldn't be raining or thundering for a deed like this. No, even the clouds looked happy.

Pity.

"What's your part in this, Godfrey?"

"What it's always been, your highness. Chammielle has to come with me now."

He pulled the fallen Knight's saber from his side, aiming it at his head before lowering the point to be level with his chest.

"Over my dead body."

"Yes, your highness."

Their swords clashed and their steps kicked up the gravel. The Prince was a known swordsman, so he had to play dirty. He paried and lunged, sliced though the air, and all the flagrant moves the pampered Prince had learned for most of his life. What Bram did have on him was his strength. And he used it.

His hilt came up and hit him in the head. The Crown Prince stumbled back.

"Will!"

Chammielle was at the carriage door, hanging out of it. Alarm punctuating those perfect pink lips.

"I'm sorry she has to see this..."

Bram sliced down through the air at him, but he blocked it with both hands on his sword. That's when the gleam of his dagger wrought with rubies came into view.

"WILL!"

It was too late.

The tip of the blade just stuck out through his lower back. The blood flowed freely and the pain glossed eyes searched his. Bram couldn't look away. He yanked his blade back and saw him choke. He held him up by the collar, needing to see he understood that this was over.

"Long live the Prince..."

His gray eyes rolled back and he let him fall to the ground.

And then she came running. Her skirts in her way and she fell into the road just before her husband.

"No no no no no no no, come on...come on...Will...Will..."

Her hands cradled his head and pulled him into her lap. She turned his face and stared into it. She needed to see. She needed to know he was gone.

"Will...please...no...I love you damn it...I love you! I just started to love you...you can't die...you can't..."

Tears fell down that lovely freckled face. Those golden eyes too glossy to even tell what color they were. He wasn't breathing.

It had been long enough.

"He's dead. Leave him."

She stood, eyes flaring back to some sort of life and she pulled his sword up from the ground. She was broken. There would be nothing to this fight. All of their training and she wouldn't be able to use but a little of it when he'd taken her husband from her. She hated him. And it was better that way.

"You..."

She lunged for him and he dodged, but she brought it around and cut his sleeve. She still had spirit. Still had hope she could avenge her beloved lying in the dirt. But it was pointless.

He stepped past her sword and wrapped his arm over hers. She flailed and screamed and kicked and begged and sobbed.

"No no no no no no no NOOO!"

She'd draw attention.

He faced her towards her fallen hero. The man she'd married weeks ago. Had it been a month? Had it been longer? He didn't remember. But he knew she would.

"Will...Will...no..."

He put his hand at her throat and let her sleep. She fell limp in his arms and he tossed the sword away from her. He looped one arm beneath her legs and cradled her to his chest.

The birds had stopped singing. The sun still shone and the day was still bright. But the music had left. The girl he loved was in his arms. Broken. But resting. He hoped she'd rest for as long as possible.

"So peaceful when you sleep..."

His attendant appeared and he motioned towards the Prince lying motionless on the ground.

"He's dead, take care of him. Long live the King."