"Rick! You're thinking about your lover--I need you to focus!" She grabs his face with her remaining arm, the other having been shut off and rendered unusable by some strange dart she didn't have time to scrutinize, "He's safe, he doesn't even live here and they're out of the ambush zone either way! I need your help right now, I need you to back me up!"
He raises his eyes to her sole blue one, trying to pull in a ragged breath, trying to calm down. He knows that he just needs to cover her back as she gets a weapon--that's it, a simple task.
Yet...for some reason there's an uneasiness in his bones. He can't muster the strength to move--not to lift his double edged blades or even to scout around for invading assassins. Breath is coming in unevenly, shallow, rattling through his throat as if he's just broken surface through a body of water after nearly drowning. If this is the beginnings of a panic attack, it's one he hasn't experienced thus far...and it's making him hesitate longer than needed--as though he would ever hesitate--to protect the kingdom's only hope.
The soldier knows that the princess herself is tired. He knows that. He understands that she's had a rough month, and a rough year before that. She's exhausted and losing patience...that much is seen in the way she's speaking hurriedly over the shaking and deep rumbling of the ambush pushing through the walls. She would normally have a calm demeanor--but this rushed air around her...
...he nods, exhaling softly, tensing for a fight.
The princess returns the movement encouragingly, opening her mouth to speak again.
But her sentence is torn from her lips before she can form it. Her body is lifted from the ground, armor clad feet dangling, searching for purchase. Rick's eyes widen--there, protruding from her stomach is a jagged edged sabre, ripping the flesh of her abdomen open.
A broken cry is wrenched from her throat as she rises. Her hand clutches the edge of the blade, almost desperately clawing it, as though that would release her. The agony clouds her mind--and then it disappears. She's gone into shock from the extent of the wound, gaze falling over the Elite soldier in front of her as she falls limp.
Rick stands there, energy-formed blades dissipating into his core as he watches her bloodied figure. There's a look of mortification on his sheet-white face.
A shaky breath escapes her lips--her last, she suspects, unless... Her arm falls slack to her side--and then she's thrown unceremoniously to the floor.
"Princess!" A cry from the corner of the room. Erea, probably, she muses, unable to recall which unit had been posted closest to the meeting room before the attack. Her line of sight lies directly ahead of her, too weak and numb to move. She'd attempt it, if it weren't for the loss of feeling in her legs. Her fingers twitch uselessly, trying to regain control and sense, though...as she guessed from the state of her legs, it's useless. She can't feel. The shock has completely numbed her.
Barely discernible threads pass her vision, and the last thing she sees before she loses consciousness are her beloved soldiers, leaping over her damaged body to defend whats left.
Before she shuts down, a thought passes through her mind.
"I hope there is something to come back to,"