Princess of the Realm

Rowan held me tightly, keeping me in a close embrace. I looked around cautiously to see if we were alone, no one could ever catch us together. It wasn't considered proper for the Princess of the realm to cavort with a blacksmith. He gazed at me lovingly through his soft, gentle eyes and put his fingers through my silky hair.
"I could die right now," I said quietly to myself.
He held me at arms length, worried at my sudden and bizarre statement. "What's wrong?"
"If I died now I would be happy, because no moment in my life could ever be happier than this," I said lovingly, resting my head on his broad shoulders. And life was perfect.

I could hear the bustle of the town through the thin wooden walls of his workshop, people arguing, rushing and shouting. It didn’t matter to me, nothing did, only Rowan.

“You should be getting back,” he said, moving away. “Your father will be worried if you don’t go back soon.”

My father was worried. I had told Rowan that I had talked to him, told him about our relationship. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I had jumped out of my bedroom window and ran away. That was four days ago.

“I’m sure he can wait, dinner isn’t for a few hours,” I lied and leant forward to kiss him.
“You need to go, your father is the King, he will be worried,” he said, pulling away.
“Fine,” I said finally. “I will be back tomorrow.” I turned and left, throwing a sheet over my head and covered my face. I tucked the ravishing necklace into my clothing so as to avoid suspicion. Townspeople didn’t wear such expensive jewelry.

I walked carefully along the cobbled, dirty streets. I kept my head down, moving quickly so nobody would be able to see me for long enough to recognize me. I began to walk faster when I was stopped abruptly in my tracks as I had walked into a large figure.
“Watch where you’re going!” shouted the guard. He was dressed in a gleaming military uniform, scarlet red. It was a stark contrast to the bleak, grey street, exuding misery.
“Sorry,” I said hastily, moving quickly past him.
“You haven’t seen this girl have you?” He asked, brandishing a piece of paper with a hand drawn face on it. My face.
“I haven’t, sorry. I will tell you if I do.” I said rapidly. “That looks like the Princess.” I added so as to avoid suspicion.
“It is,” he replied gravely, hanging his head. “She was kidnapped a few days ago, the King is sick with worry and the Queen hasn’t left her room in days. It’s tragic.”

I walked on, but I began to breathe uncontrollably. I could hardly see straight or stand, the world seemed like a blur in front of me. I turned and ran back to Rowan, making sure I avoided the street where I had encountered the guard. I was exhausted by the time I reached the dilapidated workshop and threw the door open. Rowan was seated on a stool in front of the roaring fire with his head in his hands.

“How could you do this?” he asked, turning to face me. In the light of the fire his tear-streaked face lit up, the tears glistening on his cheeks like flames.
“I couldn’t tell him, I just couldn’t!” I cried desperately, rushing over to comfort him. But he shrugged away.
“Are you that ashamed of me?” He asked with a voice pained and laden with sorrow.
“No,” I cried. “ I didn’t want him to break us apart.”
“You need to go home,” he said, standing up from the chair and moving towards the other side of the room.

And then it all happened so quickly. The door was kicked down and sawdust filled the air. The dust stung my eyes and I grasped the air blindly and wildly, screaming his name. I felt hands grab me by the waist and I struggled, writhing and wailing to be let free. The thick sawdust cloud began to thin and I heard a low whimper from somewhere in the room.
“You’re safe now Princess,” he said reassuringly. “There’s no need to be afraid.”

I scanned the room wildly for Rowan and I saw him. His blood stained the floor and his previously white shirt was crimson. Another guard stood by the door grasping a bloodied sword. I pushed myself out of the guards grasp and rushed over to him. I grabbed his head in my hands and pulled his body close to me.
“It’s going to be ok,” I sobbed as I wiped the tears from his face.
“I love you,” he whispered.

And he died.