the guard {h.s.}

3- run boy run

Gwen wakes up with a hand grabbing her shoulder.

Woken in something of a start, Gwen does not immediately recognize the hand on her shoulder as her mother's. For as long as Gwen has been alive, her mother has gripped her in nothing short of love and kindness. Though the hand on her shoulder now portrays such, there is an urgency that takes primary precedent over the embrace typical between mother and daughter. "Guinevere," her mother hisses through the darkness, and Gwen's eyes fly open. After all, her mother is the only person to casually call her this name.

"Mama?" Gwen asks, one closed fist reaching towards her eyes to rub the sleep away. The other braces the bed beneath her, using it as a way to position herself upward to attempt to look her mother in the eyes. Only now does Gwen realize that it is dark. Too dark for her to be waking up. "What's happening?"

Queen Rosanne does not immediately answer. The silence is a practiced one. One that Gwen has witnessed many times in her mother's lawful proceedings. If Gwen was not so confused, she could vividly call to mind the state of her mother's pressed lips, and the slight dip in her brows to signify her confusion. In this instance, if not confusion, outright sorrowful anger. For, Queen Rosanne is very aware of one particular things in this moment: the childish rubbing of her daughter's eyes... it's a gesture she's carried with her from childhood all the way to present. Queen Rosanne has always found it an endearing gesture. Now, she holds it tight to her heart. She fears to let it go. In this moment, Queen Rosanne is not certain of anything, but something she knows for sure is that the second she utters the next words, Princess Guinevere of Everfall will be a child no longer.

So instead, she wastes a minute that she does not have. Instead of calling in the guard, instead of hurrying her daughter in the way that she should, she takes one singular moment to pet her fingers through her daughter's thick, raven black hair. Strands spread and splay across the pillow beneath her and Gwen looks to her mother in a gauging sort of way—trying to figure out what her mother is quite attempting to do. "Mama?" Gwen repeats again, the words hopefully prompting something out of her mother.

This time, Queen Rosanne knows she cannot ignore her daughter. "The castle," her mother says finally, softly, the words calculated and pristine. Everything about her is so perfectly managed in this moment, she somehow manages to hide the flinch, the cringe, that desperately wants to break out of her body. "Is under attack."

The castle is under attack.

The words circle through Gwen's head and she tries to piece them together. Individually, Gwen is able to provide a definition to each word. For this, her tutors would be proud. Yet, together, Gwen finds herself stuck on how to assign meaning to this phrase. For eighteen years, Gwen has lived in the castle. Never once has she heard so much as a peep out of place. Her parents are beloved across the kingdom. Everfall has never seen two rulers more fair and just.

The castle is under attack.

"W-what?" Gwen stutters, her back straightening. The simple white shift she'd worn to bed slips down her shoulder and she knows that matters are severe when her mother doesn't immediately move to straighten it. Queen Rosanne is much the type of person to correct mistakes as soon as they happen. A woman who favors perfection, anything but will not be tolerated.

A sad look crosses Queen Rosanne's face then, and she takes another moment she does not have. She takes a final moment to study the face of her daughter. Her beautiful, beautiful daughter. Though she refuses to entertain the thought, there is a part of her that is very aware that this could be the last time she ever sees her daughter alive. As soon as the unidentifiable enemy came clashing into the castle, swords and steel blazing, Queen Rosanne knew that death was a very real possibility for tonight.