The Princess and I

Chapter VIII: Search

Gun shots. The roaring sounds of cannon fire. Men shouting. Women crying, searching for their children. Houses are being plundered by people we once called friends. Everywhere there's blood, screaming, violence. I never thought I would live to see this day. And how agonizing it is indeed! My father cradles his three women in his strong arms and hushes our moans out of fear we're heard. My two brothers are looking at the sky, afraid of who may open those doors. The way they look they're just like the warfare gods of yore. Elias isn't even old enough to wear a gun; he's just fourteen. Nicholas on the contrary is the patriarch of his own family now, so I guess he must defend us as well as his wife and new born boy. I look at my nephew, who is -surprisingly- sleeping. We're all afraid for the moment he wakes up and feels our anxiety. We should make sure he's got something to eat to prevent him from crying. My sister-in-law Louisa is just wordlessly praying in unison with my mother.

Another blast and the ground shudders. Dust falls into our eyes. This one was much closer than the last. And indeed, suddenly I hear wood breaking close by, the sounds of statues being smashed to pieces, pieces of art being destroyed into oblivion, glass breaking and then flames of fire crackling. Footsteps are running and then there's perfect silence, except for the rustling sounds of the flames. Nicholas looks to his father too afraid to ask what we should do next. I don't know what causes his fears. I don't understand him. What is there to do really? We are here. The flames are upstairs. We're in our safe haven.

Not for long the raging fire upstairs reaches our shelter however. The heat is growing. Smoke clouds our sight and makes it difficult to breathe. My father puts his handkerchief over our mouths, so we won't breath in the toxin smoke. I hear him coughing and feel my own eyes water. He puts us down to the ground where the air is fresher. Still, I'm having difficulty breathing. I'm afraid we all will die in this dreadful place. Roasted like bread in an oven. I can't see anyone anymore. I hear a dull knock like somebody's falling down. I don't know who it is.

My eyes are burning, so I can't cry anymore. My throat feels thick and raspy. It closes down my trachea. Therefore, breathing gets really hard and it hurts like hell. I feel airless, which my father's body on top of me definitely makes it worse. My lungs are screaming for oxygen. I see stars in front of my eyes. And then the hatch to our shelter opens and Christina walks in. We stare at each other and for the first time I am afraid of her. I unwillingly cower, when she crouches and offers me her hand.

'I will set you free, love,' she whispers and I see that smouldering look in her eyes, which make my insides twist uncomfortably.

'Leave me alone.'

'Take my hand and come with me.'

'I will never.'

'You will die here, if you don't let me help you.'

'I don't need your help. At least when I meet death now, I know that I am still uncorrupted.'

I register the hurt look in her eyes, when she stands and says: 'Last chance, love. I will not be coming back.'

'Leave me be. I'd rather be dead than your girlfriend.'

She sighs disappointed and walks away without looking back, while the flames replace her and slowly encircle me.

∞

For the first time in weeks I return to our former home in France in my sleep, where the fire is closing in on me once more. I wake up screaming, which immediately brings Alice to my room, drowsy looking around for danger. I am burning hot and sweating all over, as if the flames were already consuming me. Alice sits down on my bed, when she sees me hyperventilating and gives me some water, while she tries to calm me down.