Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Astrian Palace — a day later 

“It’s the princess!”

The cry rang out the courtyard as Purple rode in on her horse, back perfectly straight as she was taught. As Purple dismounted, stable hands came to help and lead Celeris to the palace stables. 

She gave them a cool thanks, and pretended she wasn’t a girl wearing jodhpurs in the royal courtyard. However, some of the servants stared at her like she was a mythical creature, which Purple thought was incredibly unnecessary.

She spoke to the first person she saw, a chamberlain who’d come out to see what all the fuss was about. “I’ve come to see my father,” she said sharply, head kept high. 

“Er…” He looked as though he hardly recognized her — and to be fair, he probably didn’t. Her hair was shorter, and for goodness sake, she was wearing pants. No trace of her proper, princessy mannerisms from before seemed to be there at all, but she had the same face and voice, so it must be her. “Did you… ride alone, Highness?” he asked instead. 

“Yes,” she replied stiffly. “Are you questioning me?”

She, in fact, had not ridden alone. Her companions from Brigton were staying at a house in the village, hiding out with an old friend of Mango’s who was apparently also part of the Order.

“Er, no…” The chamberlain narrowed his eyes. 

“Take me to see my father at once.”

“…Yes, Your Highness.”

He led her inside. Purple immediately noticed how dull the palace had become. When the queen was alive, all the windows were open to let the sunlight flood in. Now, all the curtains were closed, the only source of light being the flickering candles and torches lining the halls. It was dark and Purple had forgotten how much she hated the dark. 

They reached the king’s office. The door was bigger and more imposing than Purple remembered. She pushed it open, and dismissed the chamberlain. Without waiting for permission, she stepped inside.

Her father was sitting at his desk, reading through a book and writing things down on a paper. His crown wasn’t on his head and he was wearing his robe, as if he hadn’t even gone down for breakfast. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at his daughter, glaring like she hadn’t been missing for weeks. 

“What on earth are you wearing?” was his first question.

Purple almost rolled her eyes. “Trousers,” she replied, “and you are, too.”

Navy glanced down at his own lap. Then he snapped his head back up, looking her in the eye. “Have you come crawling back for help?” He scoffed. “I knew you would. That Brigton boy was bad news.” His gaze drifted back down to his papers.

Purple huffed. She leaned forward on the desk, gaining Navy’s attention. “Why did you declare war?” she demanded. 

Navy didn’t look up. “I had to. Haglington is angry. Crimson is angry. It’s all completely your fault, Purple.” He said it matter of factly. 

Purple scoffed. She knew the real reason, but she didn’t say it. “And you don’t think I’m angry?” she questioned. “I ran away because of Crimson!”

Navy glared. “No, you ran away because those Brigton people told you to.”

“Stop it.” She slapped a hand to the desk, making the objects shake and clatter. Some of Navy’s papers fluttered to the ground. Navy finally looked up, his face twisted with confusion and rage. Purple continued, glaring at him while she spoke. “You just want me gone. You want me dead. That’s why you want to marry me off, because I’m nothing but a trade object to you.” 

Navy scowled. “So you’ve figured it out, daughter.” He chuckled, and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Well done.”

“Oh I figured it out long before any wedding agreements.” She swallowed hard for her next statement. “So that’s why I’ve decided to stop arguing and let you get your own way,” she said, words tumbling out like a practiced script. “I’m going to marry Lord Crimson, and you’re going to call off this war.” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Please, Father.” 

Navy narrowed his eyes. She stared back even harder. 

“You’re so stubborn,” he said, turning back to his paper. “Just like your mother.”

Purple leaned down a little. “Is that a yes?” 

Navy rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Now leave me.” 

Purple let out another huff. “I thought so,” she muttered. “You go as far as declaring war, but you’re too much of a coward to go further.” 

Navy slowly looked up from his paper, and then slowly rose to his feet. He suddenly looked taller and angrier than Purple last remembered. She raised her chin and squared her shoulders, trying to make herself seem a little bigger and hide the fact that she was trembling, just a little.

Before she could think, he raised a hand and connected his palm to her face in a slap.

It was a powerful blow. Purple yelped and stumbled, catching her balance by leaning on the chair behind her. She tasted blood in her mouth and could feel the sting on her cheek. 

She gasped and whimpered, feeling dizzy and scared with the sudden realization of how much stronger her father was, how easily he would win if it really came down to a fight. Her eyes blurred with tears. 

“That’s what you get,” Navy snarled, “for both running away and disrespecting me.” He stepped closer and snatched her arm, fingernails digging into her skin and bruising it. She whined from the pain. “The consequences will be much worse if you dare play your silly games again.” 

He released Purple, and she stumbled back, still whimpering. 

“Get out of my sight, you overdramatic poor excuse for a lady. I don’t have time for your nonsense.” 

Purple didn’t bother to bow when she left. 

House in the village — around midnight

“The wedding is to take place tomorrow.” Purple stared at her hands. “I will be up early to ready myself— ow.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Blue flinched back a little from spreading ointment on Purple’s face where the fresh bruise was spreading. “The king wasn’t too happy about the trousers, huh?” 

Purple couldn’t help but smile. “No. He wasn’t.” 

“And Lord Crimson?” Green asked. He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, listening to the conversation.

“He’s coming from Haglington as we speak,” Purple said, though talk of Lord Crimson made her feel sick. “He will be at the royal palace by morning.”

“Let me see your arm,” Blue said quietly. Purple rolled up her sleeves. Blue winced at the sight of those angry red nail marks and growing bruises. He reached for a small jar of bruise cream, though it was quickly running out from how often the boys got themselves into scrapes. He sighed and made a note to make more when he got back to Brigton.

“Yikes, he didn’t go easy on you, did he?” Blue remarked, smearing some cream over Purple’s bruises. She shrugged with her other shoulder.

“I didn’t expect any less from him. I’m only glad he didn’t do more,” Purple murmured. Blue sighed sadly, looking at her with his compassionate, brilliant blue eyes. She cocked her head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, he does that when he gets sentimental,” Green half-joked. “I’d ignore it.” Both of them ignored them even when Green huffed out a chuckle. 

“I’m sorry for staring,” Blue said. “It… well it hurts me when I see my friends hurt.” He paused to roll her sleeves back to its proper place. “And, well, you’re my friend, Purple.”

Purple smiled and relaxed a little in her seat. “Friend. I like that.”

Blue let out a breathless chuckle. “Aren’t friends a wonderful thing?”

Purple merely nodded, her mind occupied with thoughts of the next day. 

Friends. That’s why she was doing this, to protect her friends and keep them safe. She was doing this whole thing for them. No, she was doing this for Vesteria, because Vesteria was her friend. 

The thought of Green flashed across her mind. He was far more than just a friend, far more than just a regular Vesterian. But still, he fell in the same category as someone she wanted to fight for. 

“Are you nervous?” Blue asked, giving Purple a little cream to gently smear over the bruise on her face over the ointment.

“No—” Purple started, and Blue gave her the most unconvinced look. She smiled sheepishly.“…Yes. A little bit.”

“I don’t know if this helps, but we’re all in this together,” Blue said, looking at her with his ever kind eyes. “We’ll be there to get your back, alright?”

She smiled softly. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Highness.”

When Blue was done, he gathered his things and headed out, but not before giving Green a steady pat on the shoulder. Green gave him a smile and a “Thanks, Blue”, staring at Purple on the bed.

“You know, I really don’t like this,” he said after a moment. 

Purple glanced up. “Like what?” 

“I don’t like you intentionally letting a predator touch you for the sake of saving a kingdom you didn’t even know existed two days ago.” 

Purple managed a small smile. “I know,” she said. “I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t for you, Green.” 

He flushed. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”

“I know.” 

“Purple…”

“Green.” 

He looked up, and discovered she was patting the empty spot on the bed next to her, inviting him to sit. He raised an eyebrow but obliged, feeling the mattress dip a little as he sat next to her. She scooted a little closer and leaned her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

Green narrowed his eyes. “…Why are you…”

Purple pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh.” 

“Uhm…”

“I like it when you’re quiet. Shh.” 

“But…”

She sighed. “Because when you’re quiet, you don’t rant to me about your worries.” She sat up a little to murmur in his ear. “I will be fine.” She kissed it to seal the promise, then went back to leaning against him peacefully.

He sighed, exasperated and amused. “I’m sorry for panicking.”

“Mhmm.” 

“And worrying.”

“Mmm…” 

He sighed. “You’re sure about this?” 

“Absolutely.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

It wasn’t long before Purple drifted off to sleep, still leaning against him. Green sighed and moved slowly, gently laying her down on the bed and tucking her in. He pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to her temple. Then he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

When he made his way into the kitchen, he saw Mango and his friends gathered around the table. They all looked worried, but Red was absolutely pale and frozen in fear. He cocked his head. Red was always a cheerful, easygoing boy. Green wasn’t sure he wanted to know what caused this sudden change in his mood.

He came closer, placing a hand on Red’s shoulder. Red nearly jumped, and sighed with relief when he saw it was just Green.

“Oh…” He groaned softly and buried his head in his hands.

“What’s the matter?” Green asked. “What’s happened…?”

“We’ve received word from Cerulean,” Mango said grimly. “The king found out that Purple’s handmaiden, a porter, and some servants helped Purple escape. They’ve been cast into prison for ‘treason’.” 

“Oh.” 

Green’s mind went to Rose immediately. The poor girl must have been so frightened and confused. He felt bad for Red, knowing his friend had some rather strong feelings for Rose, despite his constant denial. 

“They are to be executed for their crimes tomorrow, during the wedding,” Yellow said, gritting his teeth in disgust. 

Green scoffed. “That’s outrageous! Why would Navy kill someone so young?!”

“The king’s gone mad.” Blue shook his head. “Crazy, loopy in the head.” He made a circle gesture with his hand on the side of his head. Green nearly laughed. 

Red was awfully quiet. He was even shaking a little bit. “Executed,” he whispered. “I’ll never see her again.”

“Don’t say that, Red,” Yellow cut in. 

“But they’re gonna kill her!” Red cried. “They’re gonna kill an innocent girl!” 

“As if we’ll ever let that happen.” Green placed a hand on Red’s shoulder again. “Rest assured, Red. We will find a way to get them out.”

Red just sniffled and lunged at Green with a hug, burying his face in his friend’s shoulder. Green blinked stupidly. It’d been forever since Red had hugged him; he must’ve been desperate. 

Green smiled gently. “We’ll save her, Red,” he murmured, hugging Red’s smaller frame. “I promise.”

“O-okay.”

The rest of the boys looked at each other. Blue reached out and squeezed Red’s shoulder. 

Mango sighed and stood up. “Boys,” he said, resolved and calm. 

Red pushed himself away from Green’s embrace. He sloppily wiped his nose with his sleeve, and Green quickly offered a handkerchief. 

Mango scanned them all. “Let’s rest up and prepare. We shall ride to the palace first thing in the morning.”

The Astrian Palace — the day of the royal wedding 

Purple wished she could say the palace was alive and bustling with people preparing for the ceremony; unfortunately, it was anything but. There was movement and voices and people, but they all moved around like walking dead men, wordlessly obeying Navy’s harsh commands and even threats. 

A wedding was usually an event of joy, but there was no mirth to be found anywhere in the palace.

She remembered what her mama had said about her wedding. She’d said it was beautiful, and everything she’d dreamed of. Knowing what she knew now, Purple understood that Orchid’s wedding wasn’t that beautiful on the inside. Appearances are deceiving, and she knew that from experience. 

Purple was pulled into her room after breakfast to prepare herself for the altar. Her stomach churned with dread when she saw the dress she was to wear. She’d forgotten how much she hated it. 

Despite her obvious reluctance, she allowed herself to get dressed by the servants. 

Once the servants were finished fitting the dress, they moved to her hair. Crimson had provided a headdress to go with the gown, and it was just as ugly. 

Purple stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked nothing like herself. 

The dress was tight and uncomfortable. It squeezed her middle so much that she could scarcely breathe and revealed far too much of her shoulders and chest. The skirt was layered and ruffled and limited her movements, and the deep red color of the sash clashed with the purple shade of her hair.

Her shorter purple locks were done into a tight braid, with a few dying roses strewn into the strands. The headdress was cumbersome and dangled heavy scarlet jewels into her face. 

She hated how she looked.

She started to regret this decision all at once.

Breathe, she told herself. It’ll all be over soon. You just have to make it down the aisle…

Purple stood there wordlessly, feeling nothing like herself, when the door to her bedroom opened. Her body went rigid when she saw who’d walked in — Lord Crimson, her “future husband” himself, smiling that same awful smile. She glared at him in the mirror. He wasn’t even supposed to be seeing her before the ceremony, but she didn’t dare to fight him and he didn’t care.

The maids helping her dress immediately stepped out at the sight of Crimson. For the first time, Purple noticed that Rose wasn’t among them. She wondered where her handmaiden was. Rose had been nowhere to be found since Purple stepped foot in the palace.

“Ah…” Crimson sighed, striding across the room so he could be closer. Purple so wanted to move away, but her feet remained planted on the ground. “You look lovely, my dear.”

Keep your head down. Don’t move, don’t say anything. Let him think you’re submissive. 

Purple kept her head down. She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. She let him think she was being the perfect little angel.

This angel wanted to take her fingers and claw his eyes out.

“Look at me, my dear,” Crimson slurred, trying to peek at her. Purple turned her head away. “I want to see your face.” Her face, or the thick layers of makeup covering it? 

Purple didn’t budge, but her breath quickened without her permission. She knew Crimson was standing closer than necessary, and her mind wouldn’t let her not know it. 

“Purple, darling.” He dared to turn her head towards him with his fingers, lifting her chin so he could see her. “There’s no turning back now. You yourself have agreed to this.”

She hadn’t, not really, but she didn’t say that. 

All thoughts were put on hold then. Purple’s breath hitched when he started leaning closer. Before he could touch her with his disgusting old lips, she escaped his hold and quickly turned her face. A whimper escaped her throat when she felt him catch her cheek instead, mustache brushing against the soft skin there. She shut her eyes, forcing the tears down. 

“Insolent girl,” Crimson muttered bitterly, stepping away at last. “Beautiful, but stupid.” 

She didn’t look at him. 

He gave a cold chuckle. “Your father was right about you,” he said, beginning to walk around the room as casually as it was his. “You can’t see what’s best for you. Naive, poor child.” He tutted. “Too bad about your little handmaiden, too.”

Purple looked up with a sharp gasp. She turned around. “Rose?” she demanded. “What have you done with her?”

Crimson waved his hands. “Hush now, darling,” he said. “I only know she’s in the dungeon for what she’s done.” 

She clenched her fists. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

He guffawed. “She helped you escape. She committed treason. Your father was angry.” He gave a sigh. “Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll have plenty of handmaidens in Haglington.”

“You can’t just replace people.”

“They’re only servants.” 

Purple closed her eyes in disgust. She sent a prayer upwards, praying that Rose was okay, hoping against all doubts that her father hadn’t harmed her.

“Anyways, I’d better be going. I have a wedding to go to and all.” Crimson sighed. Just before exiting the room, he gave a little wave with his fingers. “I’ll see you at the altar, beautiful.” 

The door shut.

Purple shuddered, absolutely repulsed at everything.

There were two things she wanted to do: first, throw up, preferably straight on Lord Crimson.

And second, get out of this awful dress.

The “chapel” was deathly quiet. 

It wasn’t really a chapel at all. It was the large, open balcony just outside the hall that led to the throne room, about two or three stories up. There weren’t many wedding guests — just nobles and lords and ladies who’d been invited to the unexpected wedding. 

And everyone was completely, solemnly silent. It was as if they were told to stay as quiet as possible. 

Green and his friends were scattered about the small crowd, hoods pulled over their heads to conceal most of their faces. Mango was in the palace looking for the Grand Duke and other members of the Order. They’d meet him after the ceremony.

The plan was rehearsed like a script. Once Purple said “I do,” they would attack, capture the king and his advisors, and Green would step up and take what was rightfully his. It was all too perfect, really. 

He just hoped it worked. 

The priest at the other end of the room straightened when he saw the princess emerge from the back room. Respectfully, everyone else turned their heads to see her, too. 

Green nearly winced when he saw Purple. She was dressed in a gown that looked horrible on her, completely red as if stained by blood, and a headdress limited her head movements. She was being led by her father down the aisle. The king looked smug and proud of himself. Glancing back at the other end of the room, Green saw the same glinting expression on Lord Crimson’s face. He was more than ready to take Purple as his wife at last. 

Green’s jaw tightened, repulsed. Even though he knew the wedding would not be a successful one, the mere thought of it made him feel sick.

The king and princess’s procession came to a stop when they reached the altar. Before letting Purple go, Navy leaned forward to kiss his daughter’s cheek. He whispered something in her ear, something Green obviously didn’t hear, but by the look on Purple’s face, he knew it was something bad. 

Purple stared at her father for a moment before turning away stiffly. Crimson was already holding out his hand for Purple to take, and she obliged with much reluctance. 

Green’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword. He gripped it until his knuckles turned white, but thankfully no one saw him about to pounce. 

The priest looked worried under Navy’s gaze. “Dearly beloved,” he began, licking his lips, “we are gathered here today…” 

The speech went on — something about “holy matrimony” and things that Green didn’t quite hear. He watched every movement at the altar. Navy’s general was smirking in the corner. Some of Crimson’s men were standing nearby. Navy was proudly and smugly watching the ceremony at the very front of the room. Worst of all, Crimson was progressively inching closer to Purple, who looked like she was about to throw up. 

Green found Red in the crowd. Red looked ready to attack. He looked for Yellow and Blue, and found them several feet apart from each other, and they also seemed prepared to move. 

Then the vows came. The priest looked to Crimson first, and he was visibly shaking. 

“Lord Crimson, do you take Purple—”

“Yes,” Crimson said, holding up a hand to silence the priest. “Yes, I do.” His gaze never left Purple. 

The holy man was so nervous it was painfully obvious, and Green almost felt bad for him. He turned to Purple, hands shaking as he clutched the little black book he held. He asked the question — the full question — to her. “…Do you take this man to be your husband?” 

Purple was silent for a few seconds. She stole a glance into the crowd and immediately found Green. A single nod from him was enough. 

Crimson, however, was getting impatient. He stepped closer. “Say it,” he hissed. 

Purple gulped. “…I do.”

Crimson beamed.

Purple’s face hardened, and she did what no one would expect. She raised a foot and slammed the heel straight onto Crimson’s foot, eliciting a satisfying howl from the lord.

“I do not!” 

Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow locked eyes with each other. Green took a deep breath and drew his sword.

He let out a battle cry. 

Green and Yellow lunged at Navy, catching him by surprise from behind, while Red and Blue pushed Lord Crimson into the altar. They watched the two men stumble and fall to the ground with pleasure. Out of the corner of his eye, Green saw Blue and Red escape down the hall, rushing to the dungeons while everyone was distracted.

The priest was already running. “You’re being judged!” he was hollering, holding his giant headpiece in place. “You’re all being judged!” And his cries were drowned out by the panic of the crowd.

Navy, fuming, pulled himself back up to his feet as Green pointed his sword at him.

“You weren’t invited!” Navy snarled.

“People who crash weddings normally aren’t!” Green shot back.

Navy kicked him away, grabbing his own sword and engaging in a duel with Green. Where Green was faster and more agile, Navy made up for in his superior strength, height, and reach. One well-timed hit sent Green’s sword flying. Once he saw Green without a weapon and distracted, he did what he thought was smart and took off. 

Green grunted with frustration and picked up his sword. He turned to see the guests’ panic and rushing around to take cover, and immediately spotted Navy dodging everything and run into the throne room. 

He growled. “Oh, no you don’t.” 

Before he could run after him, Yellow grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?!”

“After the king!” he yelled back. “Help Purple get somewhere safe!” 

Yellow nodded and let Green go. 

Red didn’t come for the wedding, or any other royal matter. He was obviously there for Green, but he had another task in mind. 

Once he and Blue had successfully pushed Crimson away from Purple and Yellow made sure she was alright, they both gave a single nod. 

They escaped the chaos that was the royal wedding and rushed away unseen. Blue navigated his way through the palace and out a door, and soon they were outside, running through the royal gardens. 

The dungeons were underground, a little ways away from the palace itself, and the only way to get inside was to open a large door in the gardens and walk down winding stairs. 

The atmosphere was dark, completely surrounded by stone on all sides, and damp. The scent of desperation, suffering, sickness, and death permeated the corridors. Red tried not to gag as he imagined Rose — his Rose — in a place like this. 

Since most of the palace guards had rushed to the commotion in the throne room, there was only one guard stationed outside the dungeons. Red was able to easily tackle him and knock him out with a swift blow to the head, and Blue quickly removed the ring of keys from the guard’s belt.

“Quickly, before someone finds out.” Blue ushered him through, unlocking the heavy door leading to the cells. He propped the guard up comfortably against the wall. Red took the torch at the entrance, lighting the way as Blue peered into the cells.

Most of them were empty and bare of any pretty redheaded servant girls, and Red was beginning to get desperate. The torch lit the way as he started to run, breath picking up. Blue followed, never letting Red out of his sight. 

At the very end of the dungeon, where it was the darkest and dampest place and there was the permanent smell of mold in the air, in the cell in the corner, was Rose. Red almost dropped his torch. He came up to the bars, almost slamming his head against them but not caring in the slightest. 

“Rose!”

The young handmaiden looked up. She had been curled up in the corner, quivering, scratches and bruises all over her body, and was still in her servant outfit. Her eyes were wide and scared. 

“Red?” she whispered. 

“Hold on, we’re getting you out of here!” Blue unlocked the door, throwing it open. Red all but shoved the torch into his friend’s hands when Rose rushed out of her cell, embracing him, sobbing hysterically. He stumbled back but managed to keep his footing. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Rose sniffled into Red’s shoulder, tearfully. “I-I was so scared…! T-Thank you.”

“I couldn’t just leave you to rot in the dungeons,” Red finally came to his senses and returned the hug, holding Rose — his Rose — tightly. “This place is terrible. I’m so sorry we left you behind, Rosie.”

Blue cleared his throat awkwardly. Rose, with a slight blush on her cheeks, finally pulled away. They had almost forgotten he was there.

“O-oh! T-The porter, Sunny,” Rose began. “He’s here, too.”

“Which cell is he in?” Blue asked, handing the torch back to Red.

An incessant tapping came from the cell across from Rose’s. Blue glanced around. 

“Sunny?”

“I’m here.”

Blue hurriedly unlocked the door, and Sunny stepped out, brushing off his shirt. “I think I’ve been in there for long enough.” He joked with a lopsided smile on his face. Like his name, Sunny always tried to lighten every situation with some much-appreciated humor.

Rose burst into tearful laughter at his remark. She never let go of Red’s hand. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Rose and Sunny nodded eagerly, following Red and Blue out of the dungeons. The guard at the door was still out cold, but Blue politely returned the keys. 

They ran back through the garden, back into the garden, and bursting into the palace. Sunny took the lead this time, leading them through the secret halls so they wouldn’t be seen. 

Sunny led them into the balcony where the ceremony had been taking place. Purple was hiding behind a pillar, waiting for one of the boys to fetch her like they’d planned. Blue and Red nodded at each other. 

“Purple!” Rose whispered. She started to walk forward, but Blue caught her arm. She gave a look of confusion at first, but didn’t argue. 

From the corner of his eye, Red saw a flash of movement. Lord Crimson had finally pushed himself up, and was trying to catch Purple from behind. 

Red gave the torch to Blue, clenching his fists.

“Not on my watch,” Red muttered, charging out from the doorway, tackling Lord Crimson. 

“Red!” Blue called, and Red socked Lord Crimson in the face before locking eyes with his friend. Blue tossed him the torch, and Red fumbled on purpose, letting the flame catch on Crimson’s robes. They began to burn immediately, which caused the lord to scream, running around wildly.

His frantic, flapping movements only fed the fire that now engulfed his robes.

“Water, water!” Lord Crimson hollered, and some of his men ran off to fetch a bucket. 

Before they were able to return, Purple stepped out from behind the pillar, sticking out one of her feet. The lord, who wasn’t watching his step in his frantic dance, tripped right over Purple’s foot and went flying over the balcony’s railing, screaming all the way down until he landed on the stone path beneath with a sickening crunch.

Red stared. “Holy…” 

Purple winced at the sound. “My apologies!” she called, but joyously watched Crimson crumble, flames engulfing his still form. She backed away awkwardly. “I, uhm, didn’t really mean for that to happen.” She couldn’t help but feel a little sense of relief and satisfaction.

“He deserved it.” Red came closer. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She reached up and pulled the headdress off, throwing it carelessly aside onto the ground and watching the intricate red jewels shatter with pleasure. She tossed her head around so her hair fell out of the tight braid. “Ah… much better.” 

Red snickered. 

“Purple!”

The voice caused Purple to look up. She gave a laugh of relief. “Rose!” Opening her arms, she let the other girl run into her hug. “You’re okay,” she whispered.

Rose was sobbing again. “Y-You’re okay.” 

Purple pulled back. “I’m sorry we didn’t come back for you.”

Rose sniffed. “You have come back,” she said. “You came back now.”

They both giggled. 

Rose looked at the headdress on the ground. “That was a gift.”

Purple snickered. “Yes, and I couldn’t care in the slightest.”

“Er… I hate to break up this sweet moment,” Yellow panted, “but where is Green?!”

The throne room was empty. 

Green panted, looking around frantically for the king. Where had Navy run off to? He unsheathed his sword and swung it around, aiming it at anything that moved. 

“Show yourself!” Green shouted breathlessly. “You coward!”

A low chuckle sounded from somewhere behind him. The moment Green turned around, he was hit in the head with the flat end of Navy’s sword.

Green stumbled back, clutching the side of his head, feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden impact, but didn’t take long to regain his footing.

The king of Astria walked slowly across the room in front of him, giving his sword a twirl before coming to a stop right in front of Green.

“Well, if it isn’t the boy king of a nonexistent kingdom!” Navy jeered, throwing his head back in laughter. “Come to reclaim your throne?” 

“Navy, you don’t have to do this.” Green took a step back, holding out his sword. “We can talk this out, civilly and all.”

Navy scoffed. “Only sissies talk it out.”

Green tried again. “You didn’t have to marry your daughter off to a lord. He was going to harm her, Navy. He was going to kill her.”

Navy scoffed. “I couldn’t care less. She can die like her helpless mother did for all I care.”

Something twisted in Green’s gut. Something angry, and something fierce. “You can’t do this to her.”

“And what are you going to do about it, boy?” The king spun his sword over his head, slowly stalking the young man. “You don’t have an army, no crown, no nothing. You can’t just take her away, now can you?”

Green shrugged. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

“Insolent boy,” Navy spat. “You’re just as stupid as she is.” 

“Eh, I’ve been called worse.”

Navy charged then, and Green wasn’t exactly prepared for it. He was met with a hard blow to the abdomen, nearly knocking him over, but he recovered quickly to shield himself. 

Navy’s sword came down upon his, but Green was able to block it just in time. Over and over he slashed, getting angrier by the second, until he backed Green into a wall.

He yelped when his back hit the cold brick. Navy raised his sword and—

He spun away, kicking the king’s shin. “Can we at least try to talk about this in a civilized manner—!?” Navy snatched his arm and twisted it, and he hissed in pain. 

“I should have killed you when I first got the chance,” he snarled, and pressed, hard, on Green’s shoulder.  “To end your bloodline entirely — bring Vesteria down forever.” The sword’s hilt crashed into Green’s shoulder. 

The memory of a bullet ripping through that same shoulder flashed through Green’s mind, and for a moment, he saw white. A fiery jolt of agony surged through his entire body. He cried out, and Navy decided that was a good time to release him.

Green hissed through his teeth, tripping away. His entire arm had gone slack and was throbbing in indescribable pain, old, unsealed scars reopening to make him feel a whole different type of agony. He turned to face his aggressor, but was met with a punch to the jaw. He stumbled back, grunting, his grip on his sword loosening. 

“Your mother was screaming,” Navy taunted, and Green’s heart stuttered. “Crying for her helpless baby boy.” 

He punched Green yet again, right in the same spot. He watched in pleasure as Green stumbled into a table, crashing into a statue. The statue fell, breaking into little pieces of marble. 

He tried to recover, but was met with another blow to the jaw.

And another.

And another. 

Blood was gushing down Green’s chin now. He wiped it away with his sleeve, spitting out the remainder. Again, he tried to stand, but Navy’s foot slammed into his ribs. He was pushed into the wall, head bashing against the bricks. 

“You’re lucky your father sent you away, or you would’ve met your end faster than you would’ve wanted.” 

Navy was more than happy to push his foot into Green’s stomach, watching as the young man wailed. 

“You wouldn’t have met your precious little princess, wouldn’t you?”

A sharp crack. Green saw stars when the hilt of Navy’s sword connected with his skull. 

Navy laughed. Was he actually enjoying himself—?

He smashed Green in the ribs with his foot, knocking him over altogether. He let out a groan, and a hiss, sinking to the ground, sword slipping from his grip. 

“Not so much of a warrior, are you, boy?” 

He grunted when the king smacked his cheek, bashing his head against the cold, rough bricks. He didn’t care about the blood anymore. At this point, it didn’t matter.

“Oh, no.” Navy tilted his head. “Look how pitiful. It’s beginning to seem like you won’t save your helpless damsel in distress after all.” 

Green gathered himself, glaring up at Navy with fierce emerald eyes. “You’re… a monster,” he panted.

Navy glared back. “I think it’s time we silence the boy king of Vesteria. Shall we?” 

He raised his sword, and Green closed his eyes, prepared to meet his end. 

“No!” 

Navy’s face fell, and he turned, shoulders dropping with disappointment. “Oh, what now?” he groaned. He froze when he saw who it was. “Ah, Purple. How nice of you to join us.”

Green tried to shake his head, but all his strength was gone. He could see nothing but black spots and stars, feel his body aching and numb, and felt every single wound.

Purple, however, didn’t look very happy. She was still in her wedding gown, hair tousled and messy and headdress completely gone, feet planted on the ground, holding a sword up. It was pointed straight at her father. 

“Leave him alone,” she commanded. 

Navy laughed. “Silly girl,” he jeered. “Just because you spent a few weeks with a group of ruffians doesn’t mean you can fight someone.”

Purple stood her ground, keeping the sword held high. “I said leave him alone.”

He stepped away from Green, but not before “accidentally” stomping on his already injured hand. Purple flinched when he yelped, but remained sturdy. 

“You can’t save your precious little lover boy, Purple.” Navy came closer, and Purple stepped back. “He’s beyond saving. His kingdom doesn’t exist!” He threw his hands in the air. “It’s all a lie, Purple. You’re believing a lie.”

“Your kingdom doesn’t exist,” Purple shot back, keeping steady eye contact. “You brought Vesteria down and built yours on top of it.” 

Navy guffawed. “He told you that, too?!” He laughed, actually laughed. “So you’re believing fairy tales too!” Before she could react, he reached and grabbed her hand, lowering the sword. “Astria is the only real kingdom!” 

He took a step closer. “You poor delusional girl. What have they done to your poor little head—?”

Too close. 

She yanked herself away and raised the sword again. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Don’t you lay a hand on me ever again.”

“Oh, standing up for ourselves, are we?” Navy chuckled without smiling. “So brave,” he crooned. “Just like your mother.”

Purple’s stomach twisted at the mention of her mother. “Don’t you dare bring Mama into this.”

He ignored her. “She was brave, too.” He stepped away, and for some reason, he looked taller than usual. “She was smiling, you know. The night she died.”

She blinked. 

“I bet she was thinking of you,” he went on, smiling like he wasn’t talking about his own wife’s death. “She was thinking of you, and your happy, beautiful life that she wanted for you.” 

Purple felt her stomach lurch.

“She wanted what was impossible for you,” Navy said. “So I told her what was real, and I stopped her from thinking altogether.”

The world went blurry.

Purple nearly dropped her sword. 

She felt sick. She stumbled back with a gasp.

“Y…you…?” She shook her head, unable to form the words. Navy waited for her to finish, an evil smirk spreading across his face.

Purple gasped out the rest. “Y…You killed Mama?” 

He gave a heartless smile. “I didn’t have to try very hard.” He chuckled. “She didn’t even fight me.”

Purple nearly dropped the sword. Tears were filling her eyes. Her shoulders were trembling. “How… How could you do such a thing…?” 

Navy scoffed. “That woman kept trying to convince me to drop the deal with Haglington.” He rolled his eyes. “Insolent, stupid piece of work, she was. Always trying to talk me out of things. I didn’t want her to turn my own people against me.” 

She sobbed. 

“She obviously had to be stopped.”

Her sword clattered to the ground, and she gasped out a choked cry.

Navy sighed. “I always thought she was so beautiful, too.” He smacked his lips. “I guess all good things must… come to an end.”

Purple felt her knees quivering. Her hand flew to the wall to support herself, and she tried to keep in her imminent wails of despair.

“Oh, that’s right. Cry all you want, you pathetic excuse for a princess.” 

While Purple was distracted, Navy got impatient watching her cry. He hit the side of her head with the hilt of his sword, sending her crashing to the ground with Green’s broken, terrifyingly still form. 

She saw white, until everything became clear.

It was like watching someone assemble a puzzle — piece by piece, the picture became more clear, and suddenly, everything made sense. 

She wanted to scream.

Navy held the sword out, the blade touching Green’s neck. “You have a choice, girl,” he said, glaring at her. “Him…” The blade flashed, and Purple watched Green flinch. Then Navy flicked the sword back, barely cutting the skin at Green’s neck. “Or me,” he finished, satisfied with the way Green was shaking. 

Purple growled and clenched her fists. 

Red, Blue, and Yellow searched around the balcony for Green, but he wasn’t among the guests that were currently panicking and trying to leave. Most of them rushed through the doors and into the palace in a frantic attempt at escape, and they waited until the area was clear and empty.

“Where’s Green?” Red gasped, chest heaving for breath after completing his fifth lap around the balcony. “I don’t think he’s here!”

“We need to find him and Navy, quick,” Blue panted. He grabbed Yellow’s arm, making the other boy yelp. “Did you see where they went?”

Yellow searched through his memory. Green, running after Navy into the throne room. The blond nodded, pointing at the open doors leading inside the palace. “That way. He followed the king inside!”

The three boys made quickly for the throne room, but they were stopped when a sword swung across the exit, effectively barring their way to help Green.

“Where do you boys think you’re going?”

Red gritted his teeth, meeting eyes with Navy’s general, Dark, who was staring down at them with a toothy grin. They all tensed. Mango had warned them about this dangerous man.

“You let all the other guests leave, so why can’t we go too?” Red argued. Dark chuckled lowly, giving Red a little nudge with his sword, which caused the boy to take a step back. Red almost growled. 

“Because I see you and your friends have been helping the traitors.” Dark glanced at Rose and Sunny, who were standing in the corner of the balcony, completely overwhelmed by all the chaos that had happened. They had been frozen to their spots, staring at everyone around them with wide, panicked eyes. Now that they were the center of attention, Rose actively tried to make herself look smaller while Sunny stood a little taller.

“They’ve got nothing to do with this!” Red protested weakly, trying to push past the general. “Just let us go into the other room!”

Dark had an almost bored look on his face as he hit Red firmly with the flat side of his sword, which caused him to stumble back into Blue, who caught him. “How about no? After all, as the general of Astria, I cannot tolerate traitors, or their accomplices.”

The general shut the door leading into the palace, effectively cutting off their one route of escape. To make it worse, he was wearing a sly grin the whole time. Making them mad on purpose. 

Red watched in silent horror as Astria’s general slowly approached Rose and Sunny, who were cornered against the railing of the balcony. He lazily swung his sword, letting its tip rest on the ground as he leaned on it, scrutinizing the two.

“You’re aware your execution was today, right?” Dark said aloud, as if he were talking about something casual like the weather or recent books he’d read. “But it seems all of today’s plans have been completely ruined. Unfortunately for you, no cancellations were ever made.”

Rose let out a quiet gasp. Sunny went white as a sheet.

“I was given the opportunity to proceed with the executions during the wedding reception, but that pricky little princess decided to change her mind about everything!” Dark pursed his lips. “I was so very upset.” 

Red trembled with fury, but Blue held him back. Yellow got into a fighting stance, grip tight around his javelin.

“Let’s see, which one of you should go first?” Dark sneered, tapping his sword. “How about the lovely little handmaiden?” 

Rose let out a gasp when the tip of Dark’s blade met her chin. She held onto Sunny’s arm like a lifeline. 

“No— NO!” Red choked, clawing at Blue’s arms. “Let me go, Blue!”

“Red, you’ll get yourself killed!” Blue hissed. Red squirmed harder, trying to slip out of his friend’s iron grip.

“I don’t care! Let go!” Red elbowed Blue, causing him to momentarily lose his grip. That was enough for Red to break free right as Dark pulled his sword back, more than ready to run it through Rose’s throat.

In a blur of motion and reckless emotion, Red threw himself in between them. 

“No, Red!” Blue screamed.

Rose let out a cry as the sword went through his left side, blood blooming on his shirt before her eyes. Red groaned, crashing to the floor and stumbling backwards, thankfully caught by Rose and Sunny.

“Red!” Rose cried, frantically feeling around the stab in Red’s side, her eyes darting up to his pained face. They both sank to the floor, Red grunting out pained breaths and Rose crying in panic.

Dark let out a sigh of disappointment. “Ah, look what you made me do,” he said. “Silly boy.”

Blue’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of his friend in pain. Without thinking, he charged. 

With a swing of his sword, as if it were reflex, Dark stopped Blue’s attack with the blunt end, then unbalanced him with a swift hit to the knee. Before Blue could recover, Dark wrapped his arm around Blue’s neck and squeezed.

Blue kicked and struggled to breathe as Dark strangled him, trying to draw air into his lungs. Dark snickered at his futile attempts and drove his sword into the side of Blue’s thigh, grinning the whole time as the boy convulsed in pain.

When he felt that Blue was done suffocating, he released him, and watched gleefully as the boy tumbled down, holding his neck, coughing and choking. Blood gushed from the slice in his upper leg, and Dark watched the flow, rather satisfied, before prying his gaze away.

“Alright, I’m getting rather bored of this!” Dark sighed. “Does anyone have anything better for me to do?”

Yellow stood up from where he also knelt by Red’s side, discovering Blue on the floor holding his leg and Dark standing in the middle of it all, wiping blood from his sword. He grunted with frustration.

“Oh?” Dark’s eyes gleamed. “Are you going to avenge your friends?” He chuckled. “Noble.”

Red watched in dying hope as Yellow tried to match the general’s pace. Dark didn’t have the same frantic movements, desperation, or panic that was clouding Yellow’s mind. He easily parried another attack, and retaliated with a blow that knocked Yellow’s javelin right out of his grip, causing the weapon to clatter on the ground.

Before Yellow could pick it up, Dark hit the side of his arm with the flat side of his sword, causing him to stumble to the side. He didn’t even have time to react when Dark stabbed him in the shoulder, causing him to fall to his knees with a cry of pain.

With all three of the boys now defeated and too injured to pose a real threat, Dark turned his attention back to the two “traitors.” Rose was still holding onto a nearly unconscious Red tearfully, while Sunny was trying to stop the bleeding from the hole in Blue’s thigh.

“Perhaps you two had a chance to run while I was distracted.” Dark grinned, showing off all his unsettlingly sharp teeth. “But not anymore. You see, in the end, traitors like you have nowhere to go.”

Rose tried to scoot backwards, but her back hit one of the stone supports of the fencelike railing around the balcony. Red draped his body over her as a limp form of protection, while Blue and Yellow moved to protect Sunny.

“Pathetic.” Dark growled. “Fine then, if you want to die so badly, I don’t see why not.”

He raised his sword, and Red could feel Rose’s grip tighten around him. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest, just like his own.

“Say goodbye, traitors.”

Dark was about to deliver the final blow when they were interrupted by a loud slam as the door was flung off its hinges completely, falling to the ground and stirring up a cloud of dust.

“The only traitor here is you, Dark,” declared a cold, soft voice. They all turned around to look at the figure stepping over the broken door, kicking it to the side.

The newcomer had hair the color of a raven’s feather, and eyes like rubies. He was dressed in armor, as if ready for a battle. Red’s eyes landed on the red and gold fabric that draped across his shoulders. Vesteria’s colors, with the insignia of the Order of the Crown embroidered boldly on the back.

“I hope you didn’t forget where you came from,” the man continued, his sheer presence enough to fill the entire balcony and command the attention of every person within hearing range. “Because I never did.”

Dark almost dropped his sword. Shock and recognition was written all over his face as he gaped at the other.

“Chosen?” he finally managed to rasp out. 

Blue’s eyes were wide as saucers as he, Red, and Yellow exchanged a look. Chosen. That was… that was Orange’s brother! They had never actually met him, only heard a few stories about him from Orange.

“I find it quite funny how you, the most terrible traitor ever, take it upon yourself to punish the ‘traitors’,” Chosen remarked. “Is the past so easily forgotten?”

Dark took a deep breath and raised his sword again, pointing it directly at the five huddled in the corner.

“Your words won’t stop me. I have no regrets.”

“I know that.” Chosen responded coolly. Dark was about to attack them once more before his sword was blocked by Chosen’s.

“I had no intention of using my words.” Chosen took a step back, adjusting his position and mentally calculating Dark’s next move. “I had hoped my mere presence would be enough.”

Dark chuckled, a low, deep sound in his throat. “Your hopes are stupid.” He drew back and started a slow circle around his opponent.

Chosen sighed and mirrored Dark’s actions. “I really don’t want to do this.” 

“Then don’t waste your breath.”

It was like their time together in Vesteria, when they used to be like brothers to each other, fighting side by side, and sparring often. Suddenly, Chosen was back in Vesteria’s sandy training grounds, facing off with a more youthful, eager Dark.

He struck first, a simple blow. As expected, Dark blocked instead of dodging, and retaliated with a swing towards Chosen’s side. Chosen countered the blow with his sword, the air filled with the sounds of metal clashing.

Dark huffed and aimed at his neck, but Chosen dodged that one and deflected his attack, before managing to land a hit on the side of Dark’s arm.

“You’re moving slower than I remember,” Chosen panted. “Are you holding back?”

Dark shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Are you making it easy for me?” Chosen accused, “Am I not a worthy opponent for you to try your best against?”

“Shut up,” Dark swung at Chosen’s leg, but his attack was easily perceived and blocked. “I don’t remember you being so mouthy.”

They kept fighting, but neither was able to land a solid hit on the other. Chosen sought to end it quickly, and aimed for a decapacitating blow to the shoulder, planning to follow it up with another hit to the thigh so Dark would be rendered immobile, and therefore, harmless.

Dark’s sword caught the side of Chosen’s forearm, drawing blood. His left side was wide open, and Chosen took the chance to drive his sword upwards, aiming at the shoulder.

But Dark moved too, completely outside of his predictions, to regain his balance and stand up a little straighter instead of attacking Chosen again. Chosen’s eyes widened as his weapons found its mark not in the other’s shoulder, but in his chest.

Dark choked, making a last effort and managing to inflict a solid gash on Chosen’s side before he lost his grip and his sword clattered to the ground. He stumbled, almost as if in slow motion, and fell to his knees.

Chosen followed, meeting the ground roughly. At the sight of Dark’s fall, the five in the corner let out small cheers and sighs of relief, but quickly quieted when they saw no joy in Chosen’s expression.

Instead, his ruby eyes were filled with pain.

“Dark, I—”

“You were… only protecting yourself, Cho,” Dark rasped, coughing out a mouthful of blood.

“As the general of Vesteria, I cannot tolerate traitors,” Chosen muttered, although the words were mostly to himself. “And you are a traitor too, Dark.”

“Of the highest caliber,” Dark gasped, with what looked like a smirk. He toppled backwards, but Chosen caught him, holding him upright. 

“I was going easy on you,” Dark finally admitted in a murmur. “I could never bring myself to truly hurt you, my friend.”

Friend.

Chosen took a deep breath.

He’s my friend.

“Dark,” he finally whispered, and he cracked his eyes back open, just a sliver, to watch Chosen as he spoke. “Although you betrayed Vesteria, you never turned your back on me.”

Dark closed his eyes again and smiled, taking one last, shuddering breath before going still in his arms. Chosen blinked through the tears that had somehow gathered in his eyes. It wasn’t like him to cry, but he still let a tear slip and splash onto Dark’s pale, cooling cheek.

“You were a good friend, Dark,” Chosen murmured thickly, even though he knew the other couldn’t hear him anymore, “the best I could’ve asked for.”

The five, still huddled in the corner, watched in a silent, reverent awe as Chosen pressed a gentle kiss to Dark’s forehead, then he finally laid the Astrian general down, brushing his messy, matted red hair out of his eyes with a tenderness only found between family.

“Rest well,” Chosen bade. Though they were not brothers by blood, they were ones in arms. Before Chosen even found out about the existence of his actual brother, Second, his only family in the vast world was Dark.

And Dark was still the closest Chosen ever let anyone get to him. Seeing him like this, lying lifeless on the ground, roused a memory in the back of Chosen’s mind.

In one of Vesteria’s battles during their youth, Dark had gotten severely injured, so much so that nobody thought he could survive. Chosen thought of his question, and his own reply.

“What would you do if I died, Cho?”

“I would bandage you up and wait for you to come back to life. Hold on, Dark. I know you can make it.”

Dark made it then. But Death didn’t let its victims escape a second time.

He would still bandage his friend up, Chosen resolved. He would meticulously clean the dirt out of his hair, and wipe the blood from his skin, and lay Dark on a bed, as if he were merely asleep.

Chosen had lived a life of war, and he knew how easily a fragile life could be extinguished. For some reason, he couldn’t bear the thought of those truths applying to Dark as well. Dark could make it, right? He was different from all the others…

Chosen took a deep breath. He would ask for bandages later, and grieve when there was time for it. Now though, there were more important things at hand.

Chosen turned to the younger ones, who were still huddled together, watching the whole thing. He took a deep breath and felt himself shaking, and knelt beside them. 

“Are you all okay?” 

The redheaded servant girl still had her arms wrapped around the injured boy, Red. A porter was trying to help Blue and Yellow. None of them confirmed whether or not they were alright. 

Chosen inched closer to Red. “Let me see.” 

The girl let him, eyes wide and small frame trembling. Chosen lifted up the boy’s shirt to see the deep slice in his side. He barely brushed a finger against it, and Red’s entire body convulsed.

“I should get you all somewhere safe,” Chosen said, putting Red’s shirt back down. He scooped up the small young man like he weighed nothing. Sunny helped Blue stand; Yellow was able to rise to his feet, though holding his shoulder and wincing. 

“Follow me,” Chosen said. “And stay close.” 

Purple’s hand found her sword again. 

“Keep your back straight and your head up high.”

She could feel the blood on the side of her face where Navy had struck her, and the wound stung and throbbed with every beat of her heart. She fought through the pain and stood up, sword in her grip. 

“Never let your opponent know your next move.”

Navy gave a satisfied nod. “So you’re choosing to disobey.” He sighed. “I thought so.” He rolled his eyes and held up his own sword, boldly pointing it at Green’s shoulder. “Be a dear and let Father finish off the trouble.”

“The only trouble here…” Purple swallowed, just now finding how dry her throat was. “…is you.”

Navy laughed. He tip of the blade pushed further into Green’s shoulder, and the younger man screamed. 

That was enough. 

“Win.”

She lunged, knocking Navy’s weapon away. Her father recollected himself and blocked off the blow, metal clashing against metal. Purple wanted to scream at him for his smug expression and bold posture, but instead of screaming, she struck again. 

The sound of the swords colliding was louder that time, and they kept getting louder and louder, echoing off the cold walls of the hall. Purple began to grunt with frustration. 

“Let’s not lose our temper!” Navy laughed. She screamed. He was actually amused. He had the audacity. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Purple saw Green shift, trying to get up. He looked stiff, and wasn’t moving his injured arm at all. 

That moment of distraction was enough for Navy to grab Purple by the shoulder and slam her against the wall. 

She wailed from the pain that followed: sharp, stinging, and bruising. Her head slammed against the bricks with a force that could crush boulders. Yet somehow, she never lost her grip on her sword.

Win.

Navy stepped back for a moment, just to smugly stare down at Purple in a moment of showing off his skills.

Win.

When he lunged forward, Purple’s hands flew up and she shut her eyes. 

She didn’t see the sword being driven through Navy’s chest, but she heard the pained, strangled noise he made. 

Navy choked, and dropped his sword, eyes wide with shock and agony — agony his own daughter had given him. Purple opened her eyes, unsure if she should be horrified or not. 

He gasped, jaw dropping, and he slowly looked down to see the blood-stained sword plunging in through his stomach. 

It was pulled out, and he stumbled backward, dropping to his knees. He still made choked, agonized noises, but his mouth was filled with blood, silencing him forever. 

Purple held the bloodied sword in front of herself, still trying to process what she’d done. She dropped it to the floor with a clatter, panting and shaking.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered. 

Navy clutched his stomach, hand completely stained red, his blood gushing out of the fatal wound. He finally slumped to the ground with a quiet, defeated, satisfying thump. 

Purple stared at her father’s dead body on the floor, eyes filling with tears, but she quickly wiped them away and turned her back. She rushed to Green, who was now struggling to breathe against the wall, and sank to her knees beside him. 

“P-P-Purple,” he gasped, hands flying to grasp at her arms. She pushed them back.

“Don’t move. I’m here,” she whispered.

“Y-you’re…” Green coughed. “You’re b-bleeding.”

His hand went to the side of her face, where a cut and a bruise had marred her beautiful skin. His hands were shaking wildly. He peered at her through blurry vision. 

“I know, I know,” she whispered, pushing his hands down. “Shhh. I’m alright. Just don’t move.” She pressed a hand on his injured shoulder, and he let out a strangled cry. “Sorry…” Her hand came away with blood.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He coughed painfully, hissing through his teeth. He was holding his side with his good arm. Purple froze for a moment. She didn’t even know how bad the damage was. 

“Green, I need you to sit still, okay?” she said, holding his face. “Don’t you let yourself stop breathing. Okay? Don’t you dare.”

He managed a tiny nod. 

She wasn’t sure what to do, so she just grasped his hand and sat close, wiping the blood from his face with her free hand. His face was alarmingly cold. 

“Don’t you die on me, Green,” she muttered, adjusting his position so he was more comfortable.

Green gave her a shaky smile. “Y-you looked beautiful there, w-with a sword.”

“Green…”

“Y-you remembered everything I t…taught you.” His breaths were coming in short gasps.

She placed a hand on his chest. “Green.” She shook her head. “Don’t talk.”

Blood was leaking out of the corner of his mouth. As Purple wiped it away, Green turned his head to press an unsteady, small kiss to her palm. Tears filled her eyes at the action, but she blinked them away.

“P-Purple…”

“Shh.”

The king of Vesteria couldn’t die, not yet. 

She wouldn’t let it happen.

Purple began to cry softly, hand still grasping at Green’s. He progressively got quieter, until nothing was left but his quiet, feeble breaths. 

He spoke. “P…Purple…?” His voice was soft, barely even heard. 

“Yes, l-love?” 

“Will you marry me?

Her stomach flipped. She looked up, facing him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. “What?!” 

She was too late — his eyes were already closed.

“Oh. No,” she whispered, hand flying to his face. “No, no, no, no…” She leaned down and pressed an ear to his chest, where his heart was. 

Thankfully, thankfully, she heard the steady, slow thrum of his heart. Alive. A breath of relief escaped her. Purple found herself smiling, even laughing, as she leaned her own forehead against his pale one.

“You,” she whispered. “You are the most infuriating man I have ever met.”

end