• CHAPTER TWO :

    Amelia could hear nothing past the pounding in her ears. there was something warm-
    wet on her face, making her hair stick to it in a most awkward and uncomfortable way.
    Then the metalic smell reached her nose. Blood. In the prossess of
    reaching up to explore the gash, Amelia became suddenly aware of the lack of range for
    her hands. She was bound at both wrist and ankles, with a heavy rope that was
    rubbing painfully the young woman winced. Too tight to wiggle out and Amelia
    doubted that anyone would be stupid enough to leave her bootknife in place- empty
    sheath.
    Chocolate eyes were flecked with delicious honey, her long lashes fluttering over
    them in an attempt to blink away the grogginess, night dark butterflies on her too pale
    complextion, tangling in ill humor with her blood drenched, auburn hair. Amelia wished she could have
    her hand to wipe away the sandmans remaining dust from her eyes.
    A groan from the left of her made the young prisoner shift her weight, the sight of
    another person bound was what greeted her efforts. She identified it as Sir Warrick, a
    knight guard, hers to be exact, and he looked simply horrible. Her poor guard was covered in bruises
    and large slashes, his clothes almost non exsistant with how many tares were freeing it
    from his body. Warricks eyelids opened lathargically, than closed tightly at the painful
    headache he was sharing with Amelia. His fingers clawed uselessly at the stone blocks
    that were their stoitic grey tomb.
    Where are we? she asked herself, its so dark and damp- a bright light shone in her dark
    accustomed pupils, a small wimper struggling forced its way through her lips.
    Who the hell? almost as soon as she thought those words, Amelia wished she didnt know
    who had betrayed her. She looked up at the familiar face, shock ebbing away to only leave
    the sharp sting of betrayal. "You!" she half croaked, her chocloate staring into his green ice.
    Why, Leo? her lips too cracked and her mouth too dry to voice the question. Instead, only the
    first two letters of his name managed to echo off the walls. She wanted to flinch at the
    haunting sound of her own voice, ghostly in her ears. His answer, however,
    chilled her to the very bone. She may have sounded deathly but Leo sounded... empty. As
    though someone had removed all of his soul, leaving nothing but a darkness.
    "How do you like your new royal bedchambers, princess?" although posed as a question, it
    hinted the flavour of mocking, and a dull sense of victory. Leo. Amelia's face wrinked in pain,
    thinking of what would make her fiance act so drastically out of character and why he whole
    have been swallowed by such a plot.
    Her Leo was warm, he was a radiant sun, his smile a beacon drawing in all ailments and only
    expelling the happiness of basking in the sunshine. "I hope they are up to your standards, no?
    Well, dont worry. I think I've found a better home for you, a shallow, unmarked grave."
    His cruel laughter echoed as he left her lying in filth, Leo the Sun appeared to be no more.
    ******************************************************
    "Princess?" A voice waded through her foggy brain, a voice with an urgent edge, with an angry
    frustration clipping it, probably from her lack of response, "PRINCESS!" This was not a voice
    struggling to reach her, it was a booming tone, commanding, "She's not waking sir, what should
    we d-" SLAP! Amelia flung herself into a sitting position, startled by the sudden inpact of a palm
    meeting her cheek. The sudden movement nearly made her fall back to the floor with pain
    seizuring through her limbs, only a strong pair of arms keeping her upright and began to pull
    Amelia to her feet. She steadied herself, using the men as crutches as her legs refused to hold her.
    "Come now, your Highness! We don't have time to waste!" As she thought, it was Sir Warrick's
    booming voice echoing of both the walls of the dungeon and her head. There was another man
    standing to his right, Amelia had to squint to focus her eyes, a tall, wirey figure, with a strung bow
    on his back next to a quiver full of what looked like gold tipped arrows. Gold tipped arrows? Richard?
    Amelia shook her head, the pain was still there but her minds gears were starting up again.
    "What happened?" Amelia looked between the knight and the archer, both seeming to want to move
    fast,"Sir Warrick? What happened?"
    "I can explain all after we use this time to escape. We don't have, anytime
    at all." His eyes were fixed on the dungeon doors, "Please hurry and be quiet."