Sundown

fine line

"You traitor!" Her mother yelled as she got back on her feet with some effort.

Saoirse noticed that the woman's forehead was bleeding from a little cut now and as she made to get back up, a groan escaped her lips as seething pain shot through the arm she had landed on.

Before she knew it, the point of her mother's blade was pressed to her chin as she forced her to look up.

"You were supposed to be my blood." She said through gritted teeth.

"You were supposed to be my blood too."

"There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity, Saoirse. You have a blade pressed to your throat, I could slit it this second. You should watch what you say."

"Then slit it. I have been mute, deceived, and forced to hold back all my life. In death, I want to be honest."

She looked defiantly into her mother's eyes, as her own, so similar to hers but duller, stared back. Saoirse waited for that last streak of pain to come, for her mother to demonstrate, at last, how superficial her attachments were, for her to commit the heinous sin of killing her own kin.

"Drop your sword or I will pierce your spine with mine."

Saoirse heard a deep voice and the point of her mothers sword seemed to stray a little further from her skin. In a flash, the figure behind her mother hit the back of her knee, causing the woman to fall to the ground and Saoirse had never been more glad to see Ansel.

The prince swiftly kicked the sword away from the woman's reach and tied her hands behind her.

"Will you kill me?" Her mother asked. Though the question was for Ansel but she looked at Saoirse as she uttered it. The girl could only gulp as tears began to sting the back of her eyes.

"Shut up." Ansel reprimanded coldly as he roughly pulled her to her feet.

"Be gentle!" Saoirse prompted before she could stop herself.

Ansel froze in his place for a moment at that but regaining his composure he loosened his grip on her mother.

"As you say, my Queen." He spoke and before Saoirse could properly register what he had just called her, he ushered her mother away as a few serving wenches came to her aid, lifting her up after inspecting her for injuries.

*

Timothee scanned the now burnt up, blackened grounds for any sign of Saoirse. There were corpses all around- some of his men, but mostly of the enemy soldiers. Him and Ansel had run off to a safe distance as soon as they saw Saoirse and her mother leaving the royal tent. They had then signalled for the men around the carts to set fire to them so the explosives would do their fatal task.

For a moment, his heart dropped as he wondered whether Saoirse had been far enough. She had to be. He could not bear losing her, not to this.

"SAOIRSE!" He yelled out into the open, the ashes in the air carrying his screams.

"Your Grace! Your Grace!"

Timothee turned around at the call to find his squire running to him. He made towards the young boy and met him halfway.

"Emm! D-did you-"

"The Prince of Brookwood found her, Your Grace. She's safely at the castle by now." The boy informed, and Timothee had never felt lighter in his entire life.

"Oh thank the gods!" Timothee breathed out as his hand reached his pounding heart and a thankful tear slid down his cheek.

a/n

I totally did not reference Harry Styles :P I am sorry for making you wait almost a month for this update. I just did not have the motivation to write. I hope you enjoyed it! AND WE HIT 3k!!!!

Also, this book will only continue for a few chapters more. We are nearing the end! It has been one hell of a journey and I am so thankful to everyone who has been following this story so far :)

I love and appreciate every single one of you. Thanks for everything!

Smriti.