The news that Percy was travelling here to take on my father's army with only twenty knights had dragged me in to a more depressing mood. I excused my self and went to my rooms, the ones I had stayed in when I lived here, and looked out over the kingdom from my balcony.
This plan had been in place since the moment Percy took the throne, and had perhaps been in my father's mind before that, but I had never believed that I would feel anything but joy when the castle was taken. So it shocked me that I felt this growing guilt in the pit of my stomach.
Damn it! I cursed myself and struck the wall with my fist. I barely felt the pain as I stared out at the moon. It was all his fault. I had fallen for him, I had begun to love him, his home, his sister, brother, everyone at court. Seeing the bodies of all the people around had brought nothing but disgust to me, and I had anxiously searched for the bodies of my friends. They were not dead, but were in the kitchens. They would not speak to me.
I had ruined the lives of so many people, through trying to make the lives of my family different. And I'd known this from the beginning, revelled in it even, but now... the regret I felt surpassed all other emotion.
"What should I do?" I asked the moon as she stared down at me. I fancied that the moon was my mother, watching me with caring eyes. But tonight, those caring eyes were full of remorse and shame. I had shamed the gentle woman I had always loved and admired. But I had honoured my strong, brave father. Which was right?
I secretly knew the answer.
And Percy would march, Percy would die, and with him, so would my heart.
I turned back in to my room and lay on the bed. To think, he could have been mine. I'm sure he could have... if it weren't for his betrothed.