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Writer's pictureSarah Emmer

She Fell from the Sky: Episode 40 - End of an Era



Stella

A deep weariness weighed down my bones. Darkness clouded my awaking mind, holding my eyelids closed. Hushed voices conversed to my left.

Is he alive?

My lips disobeyed my wishes to communicate, remaining sealed and silent. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Shallow breaths only half-filled my aching lungs.

“You should rest,” a female voice said.

I am resting. Waking up is the problem!

“I’m fine. I want to be here when she wakes.”

Bolin.

“She might not. You must prepare yourself …”

“I’m not giving up on her,” Bolin interrupted.

Am I dying?

Heaviness pulled my consciousness back into oblivion.


Bolin

I’d never seen her so pale. The primrose on her cheeks and lips had vanished.

Her pulse ticked weakly under my touch. I cradled her limp hand in both of mine, hoping some of my warmth transferred into her.

Patrick had stayed with us for hours before the pain in his limb demanded respite. I urged him to return home and sleep.

Candles lit the chamber with a flickering glow, a stark contrast to the healer holding onto the last strings of life. A fire burned in my chest.

As much as Prince Fernando or that blond guard considered themselves close to her, I was the one watching over her now. I was the one who loved her in any way that mattered. Like a sibling. Like a long-lost brother. And it gutted me to see her like this.

Where were they? Did anyone care what she had done?


Diedre

My quill scratched across the parchment, and it took all my concentration to hold it steady. The serene scent of jasmine soothed my frayed nerves, though my heart still sputtered from the earlier argument. Ink blotches marred my work, but the calligraphy was legible.


My Dearest Father,

Divine blessings to you, mother, and my brothers. I miss you all.

Please believe everything that follows.

King Sartorius is executing his queen without a trial. My intended husband was murdered, and I witnessed a healer bring him back to life. He later confided that Queen Catarina, his stepmother, orchestrated the assassination attempt. No evidence was brought forth. What if she’s innocent? In an effort to spare the royal family from public dissention, I suggested sending her to you for banishment.

The king became furious and told me to learn my place. I was sure he would strike me, but he ordered me out of the room instead.

I fear my place will be at the end of a sword if I dare speak my mind again. Don’t worry. I won’t. Not here.

I beg of you, beloved Father, let me come home. Break the betrothal. I can’t bind myself to a monarchy that ends the queen’s life without a chance for her to defend herself.

Even if Prince Fernando is a good man, he will not rule for years, maybe decades. I cannot emphasize enough that I am not safe.

Please. Save me.


All my devotion,

Your Daughter,

Diedre


I sprinkled pounce over the wet ink and lingered a moment before gently shaking it off. After checking that the lettering was indeed dry, I folded it with trembling fingers.

Paisley waited with melted wax to seal the document. Hot, red drops fell like blood over the crease, and I pressed my royal stamp into it, pulling away to reveal a horse rising on its hind legs. A symbol of freedom and strength, both of which I desperately needed in this moment.

My handmaiden placed the letter in an oiled satchel to protect it from the weather, layered her cloak over her shoulders, and slipped out.

One of my guards was already prepared to take it north. While I feared interception, breaking a kingdom’s seal without being the addressed recipient could cause war if discovered. Hopefully, the Astralini people respected royal etiquette.

Moments later, she returned.

“It’s done,” she whispered with a satisfied smile.

I embraced her. If our messenger rode fast, he’d arrive in three weeks, perhaps a day or two less. Then my father would need to gather an armed force to retrieve me, or he could feign an early arrival for the planned nuptials. My ladies and I would have to be patient and pretend everything was alright until he arrived.

We changed into nightclothes and settled under our blankets. Anya shared my bed tonight. She squeezed my palm with a reassuring smile.

“Rest, Your Highness,” she murmured.

Rapid knocking on the entrance interrupted us. Our sentries usually rapped twice. But now, the persistent pounding continued.

Paisley got up, muttering curses.

“What in the …” she stopped short when she cracked the entrance.

“I must speak with the princess,” a breathless voice gasped.

“She is sleeping,” Paisley answered curtly.

Where were the sentries posted outside our bedroom? My handmaiden probably thought the same, because she looked up and down the hall.

“I need to know what she said to my father and brother. Lives depend on it.”

I finally placed the speaker’s identity. Prince Lorenzo. I rose and put my robe over my nightdress. “Let him in.”

Paisley widened the entrance, and the young royal entered. His wide hazel eyes were rimmed with red. He approached, seeming to have lost all sense of propriety.

“Tell me what you know about my mother’s transgressions. Please.” 


Prince Fernando

Shaking woke me.

“Nando, wake up.”

Lorenzo? I sat up and tried to ignore the dizziness, making my bedroom sway.

“What is it?”

“My mother didn’t do it.” His voice cracked. “She would never …”

I clutched my forehead, waiting for rational thought to emerge. “Have you talked to father?” I asked, my tone gravelly with sleep.

“Guards took her,” he continued. “And he won’t speak to me. No one told me anything until moments ago. You know she wouldn’t do that.”

I drew in a sharp breath and lowered the grip on my temples. This headache wasn’t stopping soon.

Lorenzo shoved his candelabra in my face, and his lower lip wavered as he spit his words. “We can’t let him do this.”

“He’s the king. Stopping him is impossible.”

“We have to!”

“Even if we could, she hates me,” I countered in a soft tone. “I asked for banishment instead of death, though I believe she did this.”

My brother recoiled from me. “How could you?” he breathed. “She’s done nothing to you!”

I leaned toward him, scowling and hoping it hid the conflicting emotion in my chest. Before I answered, a crash interrupted us. We both jerked in surprise.

“Your Highnesses,” a guard blurted from the hall.

Lorenzo and I exited my bedchamber to see our father raising a glass framed painting of Queen Catarina over his graying head. He smashed it into thousands of pieces before we had a chance to speak. His flushed features scowled as he searched along the walls.

“I want every memory of her gone,” he roared. “Get the traitorous bitch out!”

Lorenzo stiffened.

A cold calm fell over me, similar to the night I ended the first assassin. I lifted my arm as I approached my father.

“You don’t need to do that.”

He bared his teeth and threw a decorative vase onto the floor. “It’s time to start over. Every speck of her existence must go.”

My emotions receded deep into my soul, and only cold intellect remained. “Of course, Your Majesty, but why don’t you let the servants remove and destroy the others? This is beneath you.”

He sniffed and glanced at the piles of fragmented glass and porcelain. When he met my gaze, I witnessed no sorrow. Was this rash outburst for show? Or was he truly out of control?

“I must purge the unworthy, and restart,” he said.

I needed more time to comprehend what he meant, but my brother reacted before the deeper meaning sank into my awareness.

“She’s innocent!” Lorenzo yelped. “You can’t erase her!”

“I can. Stand down or you’ll join her.”

Candelabra

My brother stepped backward, clinging to the candelabra with white knuckles. His expression shifted, and he asked me, “is the healer still unconscious?”

My heart twinged. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Lorenzo threw the metal candle holder at our father. A guard reached out to stop it, but failed. It collided with the king’s forehead and temple, knocking him to the ground.

Two sentries rushed at Lorenzo while I sprinted to my father. He lay on the floor clutching his head, both eyes squeezed shut. I dropped to my knees.

“Are you alright?” I gasped.

“Kill him,” he rasped. “Kill all of them.”

Nausea churned my gut. The guards wrestled my struggling brother to the floor. I gulped down air to keep my thoughts collected.

“Do you mean you wish Catarina and all three of her children gone?”

“Dead. I want their heads on pikes and their bodies displayed.” He grimaced. Drops of blood slipped from his temple.

He didn’t realize it was me, and I assumed he thought I was one of his guards.

“And Fernando?” I asked.

“Keep him, you idiot. We need him until the wedding.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

I shook my head, pieces falling into place, creating a horrific puzzle, if I was correct. They dragged my struggling, crying brother away. I did not intervene, but plans formed. I’d protect him and my other siblings. Valeria’s head would never her shoulders while I lived. The mere thought filled my blood with violence.

Only one guard remained in the hall with me, and he watched me with trepidation.

“He needs the doctor. Why don’t you fetch her and I’ll stay with him?” I said, trying to not sound royal.

The man hesitated, then obeyed.

I lowered toward my injured father again. His eyes remained closed. “Remind me what happens after the wedding?”

He sputtered in frustration as crimson flowed over his eyes. “I’ll wed the girl myself after the next mercenary actually does the job.”

Numbness tingled from the crown on my head to the soles of my feet. It was him. Not Catarina. He wanted me, his wife, his children dead. And he’d take my too-young bride-to-be and start over.

My brother was right. We had to do something.

I swallowed the bile flooding my throat and found the discarded candelabra a few paces from me. I lifted it and focused on his injured left temple. One swift movement made him lose consciousness.

I ignored the screams inside my soul as I covered his nose and mouth.

I’m sorry.

His life ebbed away. I laid over his body as the tears flowed. Sobs ripped through me. I’d go to the vether for this, but my sister would live.



Author’s note: Episode 40 is the ending place for volume 1 of She Fell from the Sky. I will fix a few inconsistencies and publish these episodes as an ebook on my website. You will receive this ebook as a part of your subscription. I appreciate you and your support so much.

I plan to start volume two immediately, so please don’t worry. There should be more new episodes next week.


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Kimberley
Kimberley
12 jun

The king is completely unhinged, omg!!

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Yeah...😅

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