Lover Of The Last

3. The Moment of Murder

Did you see the sweat on my brow?

Did you see the fear in my heart?

Did you see me bleeding out?

I loved you in the best way possible

Arabelle's POV

Some would say when you're in a horrific situation, everything moves in slow motion. Almost like your mind is attempting to slow everything down for you so you can try to comprehend what is happening. The shock is numbing your racing mind, making it so your face is one pure emotion and all your limbs; unmoving.

For me everything was in fast forward. The complete opposite of slow motion.

Quicker than I thought possible, the room was almost full with guards and nobles; all in disbelief. The slaughtered bodies were unmoving, while everyone else was in chaos trying to comprehead the scene.

It was like I was a still stone sitting in the middle of a fast moving river, the current rushing around me; not even noticing my presence.

The sobs of the others as they cried over their fallen friends and leaders rang out around me while bodies moved in a blur. I wanted to cry, I did, but I couldn't help but feel hollow; no emotion wanting to push its way to the surface.

No one has seen a massacre like this for some time. Not since my family's; not since the Uprising. The Uprising would be the cause for hundreds of mass murders; that's why my brave kingdom decided to cut ourselves completely off.

My glassy blue eyes dragged over the bodies of the guards, five slashes across all their chests. I knew of no one in this castle that could kill a man that way, and I'm sure everyone was thinking the same horrifying thought.

The incredibly deep marks across the royal family's skin resembled those off a wild animal; sharp canine teeth having taken away their precious lives.

Not being able to bear looking at Nicholas, his parents or any of the guards any longer, I ripped away my gaze and attempted to find William. I didn't have to look far, but when I found him, the sight broke my usually strong heart.

Tears were threatening to spill from his light brown eyes, most likely making his vision of this bloody scene blurry. He was kneeling next to Prince Nicholas, his hands curled around the fabric of his dark pants; the knuckles of his rough hands, paper white.

I knew he was attempting to mask his hurt, he had built a wall of confidence and strength around his fragile emotions; but seeing a dead friend can knock down those walls in seconds.

I finally gained some composure over myself and pushed my body forward, towards his crumbling form. I brushed past all the weeping and grieving bodies, and fell to my knees directly next to my best friend.

"He's dead Arabelle. They all are." William's scarily calm voice spoke. I had to lean in to hear it because if all the commotion around us.

After a moment, his head turned to me; his lips parted and eyes widened. His expression was one of vulnerability, one I almost never saw on his chiseled features.

I released a breath from my shaking chest, and leaned forward; wrapping my arms around his neck. He responded instantly, incasing me in his tight arms. I knew we weren't the only ones within the room embracing in sorrow, opening my eyes I could see over his broad shoulder at the tear-soaked faces of the rest; many attempting to comfort each other.

William pulled away, running a slow hand through his longish brown hair. His bloodshot eyes bore into mine, asking silent questions like 'What is to happen now?' And 'Who could've done this'?'. The look in his eyes was so lost, I had wished I could answer every question he had.