Compassion (A Selection Story)

> 5 < (Tobias Interlude)

I had just finished my counting, and was heading off to find Fleur, when the alarm began to blare. I froze for a moment, and then raced off, screaming her name. A guard caught me by the arm, and took me to the saferoom, probably confused as to why I would resist.

I was the first one in, and a guard had to hold me back so I didn't go running off again. My parents and a few of the girls arrived, and the guard let me go as three of the girls smushed me down into a couch, restraining me every bit as well. As "all" of the girls made it in, the guards locked the entryways. I sank back in defeat, and the girls soon became bored of my silence, leaving me alone.

The scene replays in my head over and over, condemning my thoughts to those of Fleur. A girl with short brown hair sits down next to me, and, obviously seeing my expression, asks, "Prince Tobias, what's troubling you?"

"She's out there," I reply simply.

"Who is where?" The girl's expression becomes one of confusion.

I run my hands down over my face, as if I were tired, and sigh. "I apologize, Lady Lindsey, for not being a gracious host. My thoughts are preoccupied by Lady Fleur, who is somewhere up in the palace as we speak." I grimace before adding, "And hopefully alive."

"Why did she not come here?"

"We were playing a game, and she took off, leaving it to me to find her. I cannot take simply sitting here, knowing it is entirely my fault if she is hurt or killed."

"It would be terrible, for anything to happen to her," she replies, sounding genuinely sorry. "I rather liked her, she was an individual, and did not seem to care much for what others perceived her to be."

I realize that she has described Fleur in a way I have never thought of. I had described her to be fiesty, defiant, beautiful, funny, sarcastic, but never an individual. I promise myself that if she is alive, I will treat her how she deserves. Like a princess. Like a queen.

Time stretches on endlessly. Seconds become minutes; minutes become hours; hours become eternities. When the guard allows us to leave, I instantly tell of what happened.

"I need a group of guards to come with me to find her. Start with the first floor, hopefully her hiding place was sufficient."

"May I come, too, Your Majesty?" I turn to find Lindsey.

"If you wish," I say, and we set out to recover Lady Fleur.

Searching for a lost person is much harder when the person is hiding. We are checking five hallways at a time, guards splitting into smaller and smaller groups, but to no avail. I begin to wonder if they were Northerners, and ask a guard. He sadly shakes his head.

We may be trying to recover a corpse.

Some halls are littered with statues and statue rubble, making the path a bit harder to walk through. I allow this to make me hopeful, as Fleur is definitely smart enough to do so if she was running. We follow this path for a while, and eventually come to a hallway that is bare, no places to hide. We walk about halfway down when the guards deem it clear, and we turn to move on.

As we are walking away, a scream pierces the air. We all turn around, and Lindsey is standing at the end of the hall, looking at the wall.

Or rather, what we thought was the wall.

We all run to her, and I see why she decided to venture down here. There are bloodstains on the carpet, and around the corner, tucked into a small nook, is Fleur.

She is ghostly white, with blood soaking her shirt and pants, most likely coming from a wound in her left side. But the most disturbing of all, she does not lay unconscious in a heap on the floor. She hangs from the ceiling by her wrists, from which blood runs down her arms. Her black hair hangs around her limp head, wet toward the ends from blood.