Kapitel 2: Chapter 1.

The rumors of the crown prince's death had reached the training grounds by the time Charlotte got there for training, late as was her norm.

Her drillmaster, Ronald Ironheart, whom they simply called master, had long since given up on punishing her. She weaved through the small huddles of her fellow trainees, uninterested in whatever gossip they were sharing. She joined Adam, her most confidant friend, and started to pull her training gear from her bag.

"Is it true?" her friend inquired as they changed into their training gear.

"Is what true?" she fired back without turning to look at him even though he had shoved his face almost an inch into hers.

"Nothing, never mind."

"You know I have to know now, also personal space?"

He didn't move. He was searching her face for something.

"Come on, you know we do not have all day," She said, as she grew impatient.

His expression was grave, and she noticed now what she had failed to notice before in her hurry to make up for her tardiness. The place was quiet save for the hush whispers, more than the usual number of people were sending inquiring looks her way, and the most telling sign; master's voice was nowhere to be heard shouting orders.

She turned to her friend, concerned.

"What's going on?"

He let out a tired sigh, "I don't know, it's just rumors," he hesitated, then in a lower voice, " There's rumors that the prince is dead." then seeing the total devastation on her face, he added, " His brother."

And though it eased Charlotte's heart a little, she didn't notice. She just couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Leaving the rest of her armor on the benches, she turned away from her friend.

He called out to her and said something that she didn't catch as she wove through her peers, all eyes now on her.

"What, is your underwear too tight?" Bradley, her mortal enemy and greatest competitor shouted behind her.

Charlotte ignored him.

"Leave her alone you asshole." Someone said. It was Adam.

Blood pumped to her head, muffling all sounds as she finally cleared the grounds and took in a deep breath.

Hands on her knees she willed herself to calm down. Everything was fine, she tried to lie to herself. But she knew that rumors in the castle were never just rumors. She tried to walk but found herself sprinting towards her father's assigned quarters.

The old knight was hunched over their small table when she stormed breathlessly into the room. She saw it in his face the minute he saw her but she wouldn't believe it until he uttered it.

"Father, is it true?" she pleaded, begging him to say otherwise. But the old knight just nodded, regaining his composure and watching her closely.

Charlotte collapsed onto the floor and stared into the air, lost. Her mind went blank, the room spun, and she was almost intoxicated by the feeling. But her father pulled her back as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She looked up to find him kneeling beside her, his kind eyes comforting and saying everything that words would never express. Safe, she crashed into him, tears suddenly filling and spilling from her eyes.

Her father gathered her into his arms as she shook and heaved and mourned, sniffling and smearing snot all over his garments.

"What happened?" she mumbled between heaves.

The old man hesitated, not sure how much he could tell her, but knowing his daughter's resilience, he decided she could handle the truth, however gory.

"He was assassinated."

"What?" she turned to him, shocked. "In the palace?"

"Yes, but no worries, it was a new guard, he is in the dungeons awaiting trial." he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his calloused hands.

"How?"

"The rebellion somehow managed to sneak him into the palace. I'm really sorry, I know you were close."

She crumbled even more, remembering their fallout just weeks earlier, how small their argument had been, how unnecessary.

She had been unreasonable, said some things that she shouldn't have, and now she hated herself, wishing to at least speak to him one last time, if only to tell him she hadn't meant anything she had said, if only to tell him it was okay, if only to hear him laugh again. Angry, she turned to her father.

"How could he be killed there are guards all over the palace!"

" An investigation is being carried out, everyone involved will be rooted out." he took her face in his hands. "I assure you daughter, the people involved will pay for it."

Charlotte's troubled heart eased a little, her anger settling. Then suddenly, she started and looked at her father. "Oh, Oliver!"

" He will be fine." the old man tried to assure her. "He is safe, security in the palace has been tripled, everyone is alert, the prince is safe."

But his security was not what troubled her, her estranged friend had no one to comfort him. She suddenly felt guilty. Her she was, making a scene and crying all over the place for a friend she hardly spoke to anymore while Oliver had lost his brother. His flesh and blood.

Flushing with shame, she stood hurriedly and accepted the handkerchief her father offered her.

"I have to find him, he has no one." she sniffled. Then she grew even more embarrassed when she saw how crumpled and wet her father's overcoat now was. "Oh, I'm so-"

But the old man didn't let her finish. "It's okay, go find Oliver."

The old man watched his daughter leave, admiring her strength and selflessness. He wished he could save her from what he knew was certain to come but knew it was no longer in his power to decide her future or keep her safe. Charlotte would have to learn to take care of herself.

His eyes wandered to her sword by the door. He hoped she was ready.