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Some Kind of Suicide

My wedding band still feels strange on my finger.

I wasn't married long enough to get used to the idea of being a wife. Now I have to accept that I'm a widow, that Rasler is gone--

Tears well up in my eyes for what seems like the thousandth time today. I furiously blink them away. I can't afford the luxury of emotion, not now. Not when my kingdom's fate hangs so precariously in the balance. I only hope Father returns soon... I need to see him, just to be sure he's alive.

Loud voices and a clanging of armor reach my ears. I look towards the door of my room, and stand abruptly as the door swings open. Captain Azelas stands there, clearly out of breath and injured. Something inside my chest drops.

"Captain...?"

"My Lady, I am sorry to bring you this news--"

"My father is dead, isn't he." I'm surprised at my own calm. I nod slowly, looking at the floor. My father... my husband... my kingdom... all taken from me, in a span of no more than five days.

"Yes. Killed by--" Captain Vossler's face twists in rage as he spits out the name. "Captain Ronsenberg."

That finally shakes some emotion out of me. I knew and respected Ronsenberg; he was one of the most loyal Knights in the order. He brought Rasler back to the palace, kept watch at his funeral. "That's impossible!" I whisper.

"I saw him carried off by the Imperials. A soldier under Basch-- under Ronsenberg's command witnessed the whole thing. He managed to tell me everything before he passed out." Vossler shakes his head. "He stabbed the boy in the stomach and told him the King was a traitor."

I slowly sink back into my chair, staring blindly at the floor. I should be weeping, or screaming, or... reacting at all, but I've moved to a place beyond emotion. My mind and heart cannot experience this much grief all at once.

"Your Highness, we must leave. I fled Nalbina just ahead a company of Imperials... they surely mean to take the Palace, and your Majesty as a hostage." Vossler hesitates a moment, then continues on. "Do you have any weapons or armor? Any clothes similar to those of the commoners?"

Nodding, I force myself to stand. "Yes..." I look in the direction of Vossler, my gaze still unfocused. "Captain, where do I go?"

"To the Marquis. He will surely protect you and hide you from the Empire, at least for a time. There, we can plan our next move."

He speaks of this-- this thing that has happened as though it is a battlefield, a strategy to be outmaneuvered and defeated. I do not have the words to fully encompass the magnitude of this. Disaster, calamity, catastrophe, tragedy: all fall short. There are no words for this kind of loss.

"My Lady, please. Prepare yourself for our journey. Take only what you can carry, and only what is necessary." He pauses a moment, then continues. "Be sure to bring a sword."

He leaves the room and closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in the dim light. I draw in a deep breath, and mechanically turn to the wardrobe. In the back are a few simple garments, ones I wore when I tried to sneak out of the palace to mingle with the common people. I find a plain blue sack and place the clothes inside. After a moment, I shake my head and pull out one of the outfits. I can hardly escape or fight dressed in my widow's gown.

After changing clothes, I look around the rest of my room. Only what is necessary, Vossler said. My eyes fall on the portraits of my parents hanging on the wall over my desk. Far too large to carry... I stare at the images, trying to burn them into my memory. I know I may never see the paintings again; I may never see any of this again. I look down as tears fill my eyes again. I grab my journal and a pen, and put them in the sack. After a moment's hesitation, I decide to leave the book of pressed flowers Rasler helped me make when we were children, so many years ago.

I shoulder the pack and walk into my sitting room. My sword rack is here, the metal glinting in the dim light. I pick up the plain iron sword I had practiced with and give it a few practice swings. Hopefully there will be little fighting for me to do; I haven't practiced with a blade in months. I find the sheathe and strap it to my waist.

Behind me, someone clears their throat. I jump and twirl around to see Vossler. He looks at the bag and sword and nods approvingly. "Good. Let us depart, My Lady. I fear we have little time."

I nod, glancing around the dark room one last time as I follow him out. My life as a Princess, as heir to the throne of Dalmasca, has just ended. I know not what life awaits me... I am not certain if I want to face it.

"M'lady?" Willeth, one of my servants, is hovering outside the door anxiously. She looks at the way I am dressed and the sword at my side, and gives a small moan of sadness. "Oh, m'lady-- I'm so, so sorry--"

"It's all right," I reply hollowly, repeating an instinctive lie.  "Please, Willeth-- do me one last thing?"

"Anything, your Highness. Anything you ask."

I can tell Vossler is impatient. I speak quickly. "Please, see that the paintings of my lord father and lady mother are taken safely to the treasury. Keep them some place where the Imperials will not find them." I hesitate, then continue. "And on my desk, there is a small green book of pressed flowers. Take it with you. Keep it safe for me."

Willeth nods. "I will keep it safe, m'lady, until the day you return," she says firmly.

"Your Highness, we must leave," Vossler says. He spares a glance for Willeth. "Once you have completed the Lady Ashelia's tasks, you should flee as well." He turns and strides down the hall, armor clanking. I nod once at Willeth, then hurry after him.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"The Garamsythe Waterway. There is an entrance to the passageway through the cellars. Several of my most loyal men await us there. From there, we will make our way to the Aerodome and proceed to Bhujerba."

"Uncle Halim..." I hope and pray that he, too, will survive this night.

+++

"My Lady..."

It has only been two days, yet already I have learned to recognize the tone in Vossler's voice. It means misfortune and loss; it means something else has fallen apart.

"What has happened now, Captain?" I ask wearily. We have been hiding underneath the streets of Rabanastre, waiting for the right moment to reach an airship.

"It's the Marquis," he says, apologetically. "He has issued a statement to the people of Dalmasca, telling them not to resist the Empire. He wants them to raise prayers for the King, and... and for you."

I slowly look up at Vossler. "Why for me?"

Vossler looks away. "Because the Marquis has announced that you took your own life, Highness."

"But... why?" I shake my head in confusion. "Why would he say that?"

"It is an Imperial plot, I fear," Vossler replies. "Designed to keep our people quiet and disinclined to rebel against Archadia."

I stand abruptly, catching the attention of the other soldiers. "Then I must reveal myself, show that I yet live!" I cry. "The Empire must not be allowed to continue this lie--"

"No, Your Majesty."

I stare at Vossler, aghast. "What?"

He sighs. "If you were to announce that you still lived, the Empire would claim you were an impostor, and execute you for treason, or simply skip the procedure and kill you outright." Vossler shakes his head. "Either way, it is not safe."

Slowly, I sit back down on the crate. "Then what do I do?" I whisper helplessly.

"We wait. We hide, and gather forces to us. Only when we are strong enough to throw off the Empire will we strike." Vossler crouches down so his eyes are level with mine. "And I swear to you, Highness, that day will come. The people of Dalmasca will never accept this rule, and one day, we will be free again. I swear it."

I stare straight into Vossler's eyes. "As do I," I reply. He smiles slightly and nods, then stands and addresses the soldiers. "We make for Lowtown," he declares. "The Imperials will not seek us out there."

We leave the sewers, and for the first time since Rasler died, I feel as though I have a purpose.