Inside The Castle Walls

02 • Atop The Highest Cliff

Moriah stood up, carelessly. For she had no more care for anything in this ruthless world. The world full of expectations, rules, and the strictness of it all.

She could not bear another day of the same diminishing, useless, and unfathomably mocking sameness. The redundancy of the abuse, of keeping a smile on her doll-like face when she did not want to smile.

She had no choice. She couldn't run away, they'd find her. And where would she go? Her mother is a widowed, bitter woman who always took the side of her husband. She could never stay with her.

Who else? There was no one. Her father; her world, her light. He no longer breathed on this earth. But she knew he was bleeding with agony for her.

For she would be with him. She could finally see him again. She just had to do it.

She started wondrously quickly, creating an echoing sound made by her terribly expensive slippers. Though she kept running, she slid them off, shedding herself of the first thing she could. She had to lose everything that connected her to her tiring life for her death to be calming. She just wanted to be calm. Peaceful.

Bursting through the castle doors, she felt the harsh, winter wind clash against her skin. The ice on the cobblestone made her feet go numb, causing a burning sensation.

Through the town, past gasps and bows for their queen, she tore through the pathways.

She fell right onto an old man. He bared skin that resembled that of the leather on her throne. His face crinkled in horror as he began bowing.

"My Queen," he cried. She shook her head, running right past him, into the array of bark and leaves. The woods.

Into the darkness she fled, feeling thorns prick her arms and feet. She was nearly knocked off of her very feet when her gown got caught on a branch.

In a panicked cry, she tugged at it. The branch would not let go.

In an instant, she tore the part of the gown that was caught and continued running. The pieces that were left of her late dress only went up to her legs, allowing them to feel the bitter cold.

She felt as numb on the outside as she did on the inside.

No fear, no regret, no resistance.

She neared the cliff she knew was there, stopping in her tracks like a horse in a race. The rockiness of the platform cut her feet, causing her to wince slightly. She slowly walked towards the edge, looking down ever-so-slightly.

Her breathing quickened as she needed to remind herself this is what she wanted.

"The mind is a powerful thing." Her father had always told her.

She just needed to calm her mind. There was no going back. She wouldn't go back. She couldn't. Not to William nor the kingdom that saw her as a helpless mouse. Nothing would be able to change their minds. Alter their thoughts about the Queen who needed help in the war.

Maybe this would.

A thin fog of her breath appeared in front of her iced, chapped lips. It disappeared in the chaos of the air as she took one more step. Her toes were off of the edge, her only safety being her heels dug into the rock.

She took her final breath, feeling a warm chill all over her body.

"Stop!" A male voice cried. She turned around faster than light, staring at the man.

He was a tall, muscular man. She could tell that much from his exposed arms. His warm brown hair seemed to speak of autumn leaves, having an undertone of yellow. It was gelled back elegantly, though, a rouge piece hung above his left brow. His vibrant, hazel eyes seemed almost too warm. Inviting.

There was a distant familiarity with him. One she couldn't quite place.

She felt almost ashamed to be the way she was in front of such an attractive man, though she digressed. It wouldn't matter soon anyway.

"My Queen," he bowed slightly, "please... don't jump." More pieces of his hair fell out of place as brought his head back up.

"No need to bow, sir," She said, trying her best to refrain from stuttering, "Please go back to your dwelling."

He shook his head. "I will do no such thing."

"Who are you?"

"Percy Vernon. Member of the Royal Guard."

It made sense now why he looked familiar. Still, she had to focus.

"Percy, forgive me, but I must decline your request." She turned back around, looking death straight in its dashingly evil eyes.

"My Queen, please. There is so much left for you in this world."

"No there isn't, Percy. I'm afraid you don't know what happens inside the castle walls."

"Change it. You can make your life whatever you wish." His voice became more pleading with every syllable that left his lips.

"That isn't so. I cannot change it. For my fate is sealed," she looked further down, and paused, "This is the only way out."

Before Percy could protest any longer, she took a step, gravity taking her down. Her dress flew up for the slightest of moments as she felt free. Finally free.

Before she could even fall two inches, she felt a stormy grip on her arm.

Percy.

He grunted, holding onto one of her hands. A warming electricity flowed through her arm at the feel of his touch. It almost deterred her from her goal.

"I command you to let me go!" She screamed, restlessly squirming.

"I apologize, but I must go against your orders." He told her, pulling her up ever-so-slowly.

She wasn't about to let him get in the way of finally being free and uniting with her father once more.

She managed to loosen his grip, causing her to fall just a centimeter before he grabbed on again.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" She cried as he lifted her up, grabbing her by the waist once she was up again. He brought her up in full, picking her up and walking a couple of feet so she wouldn't try to jump once more.

He slowly knelt down, letting her body hit the ground again. She sobbed harder than she ever had. Harder than when her father died. Harsher than when William had beaten her senseless with a candlestick. Harder than when William had forced her to make love.

She cried, and cried, and cried.

She fell into Percy's open arms, gripping onto his dreadfully royal velvet jacket, staining it with her tears.

As he stroked her hair silently, she felt relief.