The Hidden Princess

Chapter Five

"He's gone."

The next morning, Liora was stirred from sleep by the sound of footsteps just outside her door, the rhythm of them uncertain, as if the person was debating whether to knock. Curious and slightly uneasy, she climbed out of bed and reached for the cloak draped over the chair by her vanity. The soft fabric brushed against her fingers as she pulled it over her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around herself for comfort.

She moved quietly to the door and cracked it open, peering through the small gap. There, in the dim light of the corridor, was Rowen. He was pacing, his hands running repeatedly through his disheveled hair. The sight of him in such distress was startling-his eyes were red and swollen, evidence of the tears he had shed. Liora's heart sank as she understood the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, she opened the door fully, stepping out into the hallway to announce her presence.

"Rowen?" she called softly, her voice laced with concern as she moved closer to him. He stopped pacing, turning to face her with a deep frown etched across his face.

"He's gone," Rowen said, his voice breaking as fresh tears welled up in his eyes. The shift in his demeanor was palpable-one moment he was composed, and the next, he was unraveling before her. Liora stood frozen, the words not fully registering in her mind. She felt the blood drain from her face as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Before she could utter a single word, her vision darkened, and she swayed unsteadily before collapsing.

Despite his own turmoil, Rowen reacted instinctively the moment he saw Liora fall. In an instant, he was at her side, catching her just before she hit the ground. Cradling her limp form, he slipped one arm under her legs and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly.

"Liora?" he whispered, his voice trembling with worry as he gazed down at her unconscious face. There was no time to waste; she needed medical attention immediately. Without a second thought, he hurried through the empty corridors of the castle, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The halls were deserted, and he knew it would take too long to summon the healers. He would have to bring her to the medical wing himself.

Rowen's mind raced as he carried Liora, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. There was no room for error, no time to falter. His only focus now was getting her the help she needed, even as his own heart shattered under the weight of the news he had just delivered.

Rowen pushed open the door to the medical wing with a sense of urgency, the heavy wood creaking as it gave way. The healers inside looked up, their initial surprise giving way to concern when they saw Rowen standing there once more. They had tended to him not even an hour ago, his face still marked by the weight of grief. But it wasn't his presence that caught their attention-it was who he carried in his arms.

The sight of the princess, pale and unconscious, immediately spurred them into action. "Rowen? What's happened?" one of the healers asked, her voice sharp with alarm. She quickly motioned for him to follow as she led the way to a smaller, more private chamber reserved for the royal family's medical needs.

Rowen moved swiftly behind her, his hold on Liora firm yet gentle. The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves of potions and medical tools. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and antiseptics. The healer pulled back the crisp linens on the bed, and Rowen carefully laid Liora down, her form delicate against the white sheets.

He stepped back as the healers gathered around her, their hands already moving to assess her condition. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear for her well-being mingling with the overwhelming sorrow he still carried.

One of the healers turned to him, her eyes filled with concern. "What happened?" she asked, her tone more insistent.

Rowen swallowed hard, the memory of the moment replaying in his mind. "I told her the news about Owen," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "She... she just went pale and collapsed. I think it was too much for her."

The healer nodded, her face grave as she continued her examination of the princess. "It's understandable," she murmured, though her focus remained on Liora. "She's been under a great deal of stress. The shock likely overwhelmed her."

Rowen watched, helpless, as they worked to revive her. The moments dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. He felt a deep ache in his chest, not only for Liora but for Owen as well. The weight of everything that had happened in such a short time was nearly unbearable.

As the healers tended to Liora, Rowen found himself replaying the events in his mind-Owen's sudden death, the confession of the intruder, and now, the sight of Liora crumpling before him. He clenched his fists, fighting the surge of anger and frustration that threatened to overtake him. How could things have spiraled so quickly out of control?

One of the healers glanced over at him, sensing his turmoil. "She'll be alright, Rowen," she said softly, though there was a note of uncertainty in her voice. "She just needs time to recover."

Rowen nodded, though the reassurance did little to ease his mind. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Liora's still form. "Please, let me know the moment she wakes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The healer gave a small nod of acknowledgment before turning back to her work. Rowen lingered for a moment longer, the urge to stay by Liora's side warring with the knowledge that he had other responsibilities to attend to.

With a heavy heart, he finally tore himself away from the bedside, his mind already turning to the next steps. The kingdom was on the brink of disaster, and he couldn't afford to be paralyzed by grief. There were enemies to uncover, security to bolster, and a kingdom to protect. But as he left the room, one thought remained at the forefront of his mind-he would do whatever it took to ensure Liora's safety, no matter the cost.