The Quest For Hope

The Escape: Chapter Fifteen

The morning sun rose over the castle. Nights seemed to lengthen under the extended search for Princess Elsa. Patrols ran every hour of the day. Guards lined the castle morning and night, stewards questioned the villagers for any news, and scouts were sent ahead to all the territories. He did not pare one home, village, or kingdom in his search. As long as she remained missing, he remained awake and the kingdom alert.

Golden hues shone through the stained glass windows above his throne. His soft boots scuffed on the floor as he paced a trail around the empty hall. Mourning hours tended to be quiet, but every day, few visitors appeared. Except for his trusted stewards and guards, no one approached him. The normally cheerful room had darkened.

He continued pacing behind the throne, numbly watching the guards change shifts. Their bloodshot eyes and uncharacteristic slouches spoke of their exhaustion. Maybe he had pushed them too far. They needed rest. He wondered when he's lost touch with what other people needed.

Leaning against the throne, he felt the cool stone and sighed.

"Is there any news from outside?" he asked as the new stewards filtered in.

"No, Your Majesty. No news as of this morning. They will find her. I know they will." The steward stood straight against the wall, looking refreshed and polished for service.

"I hope you are right," he said, scratching his chin. Its scraggy surface surprised him. In the days he's been waiting for news, he had neglected to take care of himself. He felt the rough and sagging skin around his eyes and could see the wrinkled edges on his robe. Every moment spent waiting just added to his weariness. 

"Maybe it's time I get some rest as well," he said.

His men nodded but did not respond. 

The door to the throne room crashed against the wall. All heads jerked to the back of the room. Striding towards him, a group of men approached, led by a man cloaked in black.

"Your Majesty!" Prince Hans called, running into the room. The normal polish that surrounded the prince had disappeared under a layer of dirt. The charming smile people knew him for was noticeably absent from his face.

"Prince Hans," the king returned the greeting, jumping down to meet him.

"Your majesty," the prince began, kneeling. Covering his heart with one hand, he looked at the ground, refusing to meet the king's eyes. "I am deeply troubled to bring you this news."

"Tell me. Have your men found anything at all? Remember, if you bring her back home, she'll be yours." He stopped talking when he saw the prince's men hesitate in the doorway. Their armour was stained with blood, and their heads hung low.

"What happened, Prince Hans?" He asked, hiding his shaking hands beneath the thick sleeved of his robe.

Prince Hans waved his men forward. They approached slowly, keeping their eyes o the floor. The men in the back looked the most uncomfortable.

He vaguely heard the words but did not move his eyes from the dress draped in the man's arms.

"King Agnarr," Prince Hans began, his words thick with emotion. "I wish I came with different news, but we were too late."

The throne room seemed to spin. "Did you find the men who did this?" The king asked, in a voice no louder than a whisper.

"Yes, we did. We came upon their camp this morning, in the dark regions of the forest. When we asked if they had seen her, we discovered the truth. I am sorry. I vowed to bring her home, but not like this."

The king didn't respond. He could not say anything. His eyes focused on the blue dress that hung lifeless in their arms.

The Prince continued.

"We rode deep into the forest through the night, tracking any signs we could find. There weren't many. We talked to anyone we could-hunters, forest men. A few mentioned a group of bandits that had been terrorising the area. So we went in search of them. It was early this morning when we finally found them. We surrounded them from every angle," Prince Hans stopped for a moment to keep his emotion under control. "One of my men saw this. When we noticed the gown and listened to their mocking words, we were outraged. The fight was brief and complete."

Prince Hans's voice shook as he finished his story and rejoined the men.

The room around the king fell silent, and his vision blurred. He was king of a kingdom, but utterly alone. "I don't understand. How did we go from one disagreement to this?" 

"Your Majesty, I vow to turn this tragedy into something grand, in memory of the princess. I will clear the forest of all bandits. No more harm will come to your kingdom." After a quick bow, Prince Hans waved to his men to follow and stormed back out the door. 

The room returned to silence. The stewards and knights regrouped in their positions. Everyone watched, but no one spoke. No words could adequately fill the void 

King Agnarr dropped to his knees and tentatively reached toward the dress. The midnight-blue gown looked dull in his hands. And lustre it held faded without her in it. He smelled it, hoping for a lingering scent.

"Elsa!" He sobbed into the fabric. "Elsa!"

His anguish echoed throughout the hall.