In Your Eyes

“My brother was in love,” she said, staring at the tombstone still. “It was a village girl. He was lucky. My parents encouraged it. But, one day, he came in depressed. She and her family were moving away.”

“And he didn’t take it well?”

Arella shook her head. “He wanted to go with them but, by the time he got there, they were gone. He was so depressed that I could feel it, too. You see, we had a connection. What he felt, I felt. It was the strangest thing but it was natural and we spent every moment together.”

“And the night he died?”

Arella tore a dandelion up from the ground. “I woke up during a thunder storm. Something didn’t feel right. We had separate rooms so I went into it. His blankets were tossed around. It was weird because he always kept such a clean room. I knew something was wrong.

“The only other place he liked to go was the throne room. He liked to sit in my father’s throne and imagine what it would be like one day when he would be the one sitting in it. So, I headed down the stairs. Lightning lit up the room and- It was like the day Mathias had a seizure. It was even in the same spot.”

Dorothy handed her a handkerchief; Arella didn’t realize she had been crying.

She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, seeing it all again as if it was yesterday.

Lightning illuminated the foyer. Arella ran down the stairs and knelt down in his blood, barely registering the fact that her dress was quickly soaking through.

“Mother!” she screamed. “Father!”

“Arella,” Paul rasped, raising a bloody hand to her face.

“Who did this to you?” she sobbed, pulling her head into her lap.

“Promise me something,” he said as blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Mother and Father will be here soon and we’ll get you better.”

He smiled. His face was getting whiter and whiter.

“You have to promise,” he continued. “Don’t shut yourself off. I know you will. Don’t grieve forever. If you ever see Gazelle again, tell her I love her.”

“Stop talking like that,” she sobbed, wiping the blood of his face. “You’re going to be okay!”

“And tell Mother and Father I’m sorry.”

Footsteps came running down the stairs and their mother screamed. He beckoned for Arella to bend closer.

“What did he say?” Dorothy whispered.

She burst into loud tears.

“I can’t,” she sobbed and ran back to the castle.

--

Dorothy sighed and walked back to the palace, her mind heavy with thoughts. To have witnessed her brother’s death… to experience the pain in the stomach just before she found him…. It was terrible to think.

When she walked back in, Arella was nowhere to be found. She looked around, wondering where Arella could have gone off to.

“Doctor?” said a voice and she looked behind her. It was the queen. “Is Arella okay? She came running in in tears.”

Dorothy heaved a sigh. “She told me about when she found Paul.” The queen’s face went pale. “But she wouldn’t tell me what his last words were. She tried to.”

The queen fell to her knees and Dorothy helped her to a chair. “She finally did it.”

“I think my son had a lot to do with it,” Dorothy said. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

The queen was still clutching her chest. “They became fast friends.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Dorothy muttered. “Let’s go talk to the king.”

-

“You mean, she actually talked about it?” the king asked, his eyes wide and Dorothy nodded.

“She wouldn’t tell me what his last words were but I have an idea….”

“What is it?” the king asked quickly, leaning forward.

“This is just an idea,” she said. “I don’t have any proof why I think it. But I think his last words to her were revealing who killed him.”

The queen fainted.

--

Mathias was walking down the hall when he heard loud sobbing. He followed the noises until he found Arella in the middle of her bedroom on the floor. What he saw horrified him. She had a knife and she had cut her hair short.

“I’m so sorry, Paul!” she cried, cutting into her arm. “I’m so, so sorry! I should have done something!”

She raised the knife again but he ran forward and knocked it out of her hand.

“What are you doing!?” he yelled but she reached for the knife, her eyes wild.

“Give it to me!” she screamed. “I don’t deserve to live!”

“Stop this, Arella!” Mathias yelled, shaking her but she slapped him and lunged for the knife. “I’m sorry,” he said and let her fall so that she hit her head on the floor, knocking her unconscious.

He checked her eyes to make sure she was okay before looking at the rest of her. She had multiple cuts on her arms and one all across her stomach.

“JOHNATHAN!” he bellowed, snatching up her cloak and putting pressure on the cuts.

He heard the king running in moments later. He looked up to see the king fall to his knees and Dorothy cried out.

“What happened!?” she asked, rushing to her side.

“I was walking back to my room,” he said in a rush, “when I heard crying. I came in and she was cutting herself! She kept yelling about how she didn’t deserve to live and she kept begging Paul to forgive her!”

Mathias was shaking as the king sent for a nurse. He stepped back and let Johnathan kneel next to his daughter, tears streaming down his face. The nurse rushed in with a large bowl of hot water, rags, and some kind of medicinal soap. As soon as the soap and water touched Arella’s skin, she woke screaming.

She thrashed in the king and Mathias’s arms, screaming again about Paul and murder. She wasn’t making any sense. The nurse was shouting something and a servant poured a solution down her throat, effectively causing her to pass out again.

They worked for a while on the wounds. His mother had left to go look after the queen and Mathias stayed with the king until Arella was back in bed.

“We’ll keep someone here in case she tries something again,” the nurse said, checking Arella’s pulse. “The sedative we gave her should last a while. Any ideas as to why she would do this?”

Mathias shook his head as the king gathered up the strands of hair with shaking hands.

“She knows something,” the king said in a hoarse whisper, watching his daughter sleep with pain in his eyes. “That’s why she did this. Oh, it’s all my fault!”

“It is not your fault,” his mother said, coming back in with the queen. The queen climbed into bed with Arella, tears streaming silently down her face. She got under the covers and curled up with her daughter. “This would have happened eventually.”

“I pushed her,” the king cried, burying his face into Arella’s fallen locks. “Oh, I should never have forced her to do this!”

Dorothy knelt down beside him. “Do not blame yourself, Your Highness. Trust me. This was brewing under the surface. Just be glad that there are people here that can take care of her.” She looked at Mathias for a second. “Would you like some privacy with your wife?”

The king nodded and Dorothy helped him to his feet.

“Thank you, Dorothy,” he croaked and stumbled to the bed, getting in on Arella’s other side.

“Let’s go, Mathias,” Dorothy whispered. “You need to bathe; you’re covered in blood.”