"Arthur. Arthur… Arthur!"
Hands shook his shoulders.
"Wake up."
His eyes snapped open. The room felt wrong — too quiet, too tight.
"Mother?" His voice was thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"
The queen stood beside the bed. She looked pale, her hands trembling in the dim light of the chamber.
"Mother…" he said slowly, sitting up. "You're frightening me."
Steel rang out in the distance.
Footsteps thundered down the corridor outside the chamber.
"Your Grace!" a voice hissed from the other side. "The horse is ready!"
"Give us a minute," the queen answered.
"Mother, what's going on?" His voice trembled despite himself. "Where is Father? And what's with the horse? Why do we need it?"
Footsteps pounded down the corridor.
Fast.
Desperate.
A fist slammed against the wood.
The door burst open.
A guard stumbled into the chamber, breath ragged, armor smeared with soot and blood.
"Your Grace," he hissed urgently. "They've entered the main gates. We need to go."
"Mother?"
Steel rang through the corridor. Closer and closer.
"Close your eyes, Arthur!"
"Your Grace! This way!"
"Your Grace, they have entered the throne room. We must take the secret passage."
The queen and three guards ran through the hidden passage. Arthur followed close behind.
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Two enemy guards forced their way into the passage.
"They're escaping!" one shouted.
They had reached the end of the passage.
Suddenly, an arrow struck the queen's leg. The shot had come without warning, from the dark end of the passage. In the dim light, it was impossible to see the face of the one who fired it.
They had no choice but to fight.
The queen's guards struck first, steel clashing in the narrow corridor. But fighting was not their best option.
Even if the queen forced herself to run, she would not make it far.
"Arthur, listen to me!"
"Mother! We need to go!" Arthur grabbed her arm, trying to pull her up. His face was red and wet with tears.
"Mother, get up… please."
"It's alright, Arthur." Her voice was fading, but steady. "You must leave. Now."
"I'm not leaving you." His hands trembled. "I won't."
"You must." She forced a weak breath. "This is not your night to die."
"Then let me stay."
"No." Her fingers tightened around his sleeve.
"Run… and live."
"I won't run without you!"
"Listen to me, Arthur. When the time comes, you will be king — a brave king. But for now, you must run. I promised I would always be with you."
The queen kissed his forehead and pulled him into one last embrace.
"I love you," she whispered.
"Mother!" he cried, his face red and wet with tears.
Arthur ran through the narrow passage, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls.
He ran toward the forest that lay beyond the western walls of Valdrenor — the dark forest he had only seen from the castle towers.
Behind him, the castle of Valdrenor burned.