Fallen Princess

Alana sat with her back against the cold cobblestone wall of the cell she had been thrown into just hours earlier upon her conviction of killing her father, the King. Tear stains ran down her face as she relived the horrifying experience she had in the courtroom. Normally, in serious matters, the King would provide the final ruling with the council merely suggesting their thoughts and beliefs to sway the King one way or the other. However, since her father's death was the reason for this quick trial, the council acted as the deciding vote with no need for a tie breaker.

Alana argued valiantly that she had seen the actual murderer escaping through an open floor to ceiling length window and that she tried her best to stop the bleeding and save her father. The man who was arguing her involvement in the whole thing was none other than the captain of the King's private guards and the man who did most of the investigation. He argued that they were unable to find any evidence of another person being in the room and had thoroughly searched to grounds after locking down the palace grounds for the murderer and had come up empty handed. He also argued that a professional assassin would have used his own weapon and not an ornamental dagger that had been on the mantle over the fireplace of the King’s own chambers, and that the King and Alana had been fighting quite regularly about the topic of her being of age to marry and Alana’s disapproval of his choice for her husband.

Alana had conducted herself with the utmost respect when addressing the council members and did her best to refute the claims the captain of the King’s guard was making, but it was of little use. The captain had painted quite a picture of a young woman scorned by her fathers wish’s who saw no way out other than to take the throne for herself. He painted her as a woman caught up in her emotions even though she handled herself appropriately in the courtroom though she was tempted otherwise. Nothing she did or said changed the mind of the majority of the council, save for one man whom Alana had grown closer to and looked up to as an example of what she should expect in a man. Even though he tried to argue the chances of her involvement to those who were corrupt enough to throw away the life of the rightful heir to the throne.

In the end, she had been found guilty of murdering the King and treason, striped of her title as Princess and paraded through the city tied to walk behind the foulest smelling donkey in all the kingdom in nothing but her undergarments while the people threw rotten vegetables and fruit at her. She was scheduled to be hanged in the town square the next day at dawn, even with her brother trying everything he could to pardon her as the future King. So here she sat in this cold damp stone prison awaiting a fate she never thought possible.

At one point, not long after being thrown into her cell, the councilman who had tried to argue her case brought her water and a sponge to clean herself off with and a simple dress to change into.

“I swear I will work throughout the night to try and clear your name and save you from this fate you do not deserve. I believe you.” Alana thanked him as he quickly left so that she could have at least a little privacy to clean herself off and change. All alone, Alana sat in stunned silence, unable to process all that had befallen her in just a day. She was so sure that her standing as a princess and her reputation would help pave the way to not only her innocence, but to her fathers killer as well. How naïve and foolish she felt as she sat on the hard wooden bench and leaned against the cold stone of her cell. It was only a matter of time before Trevor showed up to prove his point, and she wished now that she would have listened to him. Her arrogance and pride only led her to the humiliation she had been put through to make it so her brother received the throne. She realized now that no matter what she would have done she would have been labeled a traitor, her name sullied for as long as people cared to remember. She was on the verge of tears when a voice just outside her cell startled her to the point of almost falling off the bench.

“If I made a list of all the times I was right and you were wrong, we’d have to cut down a third of the Azhar forest,” Trevor said, scaring Alana almost to the point of screaming.

“You know, you can be a real piece of work sometimes.”

“Ah, it’s good to see your time in jail hasn’t changed you too much," Trevor said with a smirk. “Now, how about we get you out of here and make a run for it?”

“You’d better have a pretty good plan, they have this place sealed up pretty tightly.”

“I got in here didn’t I? Listen closely while you put these on, we don’t have the time for me to repeat myself,” Trevor said as he threw a small bag towards Alana before turning his back to her. Inside was more appropriate clothing for an outdoor excursion as well as a couple of carefully chosen knives and boots.

“I know a man off to the east that I think can help us. A rather unusual fellow but not someone you want as a foe either. I believe he will be able to figure out who is responsible for your fathers death.”

“And what do we do then?” Alana asked as she finished tying the trousers around her waist.

“That I will leave up to you,” Trevor said as he turned around and picked the lock to open her cell.