[Fantasy novel, completed ✓]
In a world filled with magic, dragons, witches, demons, deadly creatures and other magical beings, the life of the king's daughter Victorine changes with a single blow when her kingdom is attacked.
She loses not only he...
She wasn't looking for a knight. She was looking for a sword. -Atticus
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- Victorine -
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Nicolas drew a new arrow and aimed it at the entrance of the hall, while the other soldiers had dodged to either side and taken cover. As he did so, he had taken a few steps backwards to cover me with his back. It seemed to me that Nicolas wanted to push me back even further, but my feet were still as if fused to the floor, unable to take even a step.
They stayed in place to protect my sister. Even though she had long since disappeared. I had clearly heard her fleeing footsteps. And I had let it happen, I had let her flee.
Because she was my Crescentia. She was my little sister.
Because I had watched her grow up. Because she had come to bed with me at night, frightened, and I had protected her from monsters and the dark. We had laughed together, snuck around the castle, played pranks on each other, told each other stories. Helped each other dress, ate and laughed and lived together.
And all this time she really hated me?
Planned our murder?
The pain of this betrayal was greater than anything I had ever felt in my life. The knowledge of what she had done sat deep in my chest, spiked with sharp shards that slashed my ribcage from the inside. I didn't understand it all. And yet, on the other hand, I understood it very well, because I had gained insight into her mind and could not deny what I had experienced.
Nicolas bumped his back against me, bringing me back to reality and the present, seemingly hopeless situation with a jolt that jolted me awake. The soldiers would probably rush in at any moment. And Nicolas' firepower might not be able to do anything with the men's heavy armor.
"We have five people trying to kill us right now. Any ideas?", I whispered, now taking a few slow steps backwards along with Nicolas.
"Actually, there are seven," the man in front of me replied in a dry tone, his cocked arrow still steadily aimed at the entrance.
I suppressed a snort. "Sorry I wasn't specific enough."
And already the soldiers were rushing in. Nicolas shot the arrow and again, miraculously or infinitely, hit the narrow gap left by the soldiers' helmet. But the others kept charging, straight at us. And never would Nicolas be able to finish off the rest quickly enough.
I prepared to fight for my life with my bare hands. Against six heavily armed soldiers with swinging sword blades and protective armor. So I took two steps to the right, but Nicolas followed me instantly and hid me behind his protective back again.
Suddenly, a strangled scream echoed through the hall, after which soft, rasping sounds were heard. The soldiers turned around and stared just as we did at the rearmost man, who was just sinking to the floor. This revealed to us a view of a woman who was pulling her dagger out of the soldier's neck. Her face was covered with fresh blood splatters.
