The prince took off down the hallway at a dead run. He dodged around servants and nobles, many of whom were gathered in nervous, whispering pockets along the way. He ignored them, but threads of conversation caught in his mind, the same as the message he was running from. The courier had reached him in the company of his knights, laughing and chattering. It was hard to believe that the news had already spread so far, when he had just found out himself.

He emerged into a bright afternoon, leaping down the steps with wide, graceful strides and landing neatly in front of a grim assembly of lesser soldiers and older knights, the commanders. There was one exception. Lohengrin stepped forward to meet him. The broad-shouldered knight could wear a smile with surprising ease; he had trained with the prince personally in swordplay; he had been his companion since they were children. Now, he bowed deeply, and when he straightened, it was almost frightening sight. There was thunder behind his eyes, backed up by the low rumble of the soldiers murmuring. The knight, however, waved them all into silence. Even those above him complied.

“Your highness...” He began, removing his helmet and closing his eyes.

But before he could continue, a pair of slim, soft hands gripped the front of his tunic and pulled him forward. Shocked, the knight found himself staring into the prince's face as he shouted, “No! It can't be true! You were supposed to protect them! What foolishness is this?”

Steeling himself, the knight took hold of the prince's wrists, though he didn't follow through on any attempt to remove his grasp. “I wish it were not true, your highness...”

Lohengrin respectfully lowered his eyes as best he could. He saw the prince's white knuckles on his collar. They stood locked together, the prince and his knight, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if they were holding each other up. The knight spoke.

“The king and queen met bravely with the foe,” he began steadily, but his voice grew more distant. “A cruel beast who calls himself the Raven. It is he who has been ravaging the countryside, all the trouble we've been hearing about. They tried to speak to him of peace, but he must have denied them...”

The knight's breath caught, and he fumbled with his words.

“We were ordered to stay back. We didn't see. They ordered us, they said that bringing soldiers to ask for peace was wrong... Neither the king nor the queen would listen. Night passed. When they did not return, we went to look then, and all we found were... crows...”

Even after he finished, he kept his eyes low because he could not bear to look at his friend.

The prince disentangled his hands from the fabric and let them fall, only to clench at his sides. He was shaking, and the sadness in his golden eyes could have drowned the sun under the threat of tears. Everyone could see them, glistening, sparkling.“Isn't it your duty to protect them? Wasn't it? And you couldn't even find them where they fell!

“And now this... this monster has been left free to ruin the kingdom... My kingdom! I won't let it be, do you understand me?” He raised a bold fist to the sky, holding it there, his chest heaving. “I will avenge them! I will destroy this beast, and nothing will stop me! That is [i]my[/i] duty.”

He swept his gaze over the knights, then he spun around, sending his cape flaring behind him. Over his shoulder, he said, “You may join this cause if you wish. But that is my will.”

Without looking back at them, he stalked inside. The soldiers left in his wake stood in absolute silence, and no one dared to move, until without a word, Lohengrin marched into the palace after him.

* * * * *

Once he was inside the palace, the prince didn't run anymore. He just kept moving. There was nothing to run away from, or rather, however much he might have wished he could run, it would serve no purpose. It would mean nothing.

This time, as he walked, people called out to him. He heard his title and name called over and over, but he never acknowledged it. A soft twinge of guilt reminded him that they only meant well, that they only wanted to help their beloved prince. He had already been placed in charge while his parents were away, and he was quickly proving himself to be a gracious ruler. They had been fond of him before that, too; fond of the boy who always went out of their way to help others. What a good prince, they said. What a kind prince he was. What a good king he would be. He was all they had to guide them now, but they trusted him.

He kept his eyes to the ground as he walked, grimacing bitterly. To think that his first act in power had been to accost his knights. He knew better than that. The king and queen had raised him better than that. Yet he couldn't turn back now. The thought of facing anyone made him faintly ill. He knew one place where he could be left alone.

Up two flights of stairs, down the corridor, past the tapestry with dancing swans embroidered upon it. The door was white, and the frame was molded into flowers. He hesitated as he placed his hand upon the door; his stomach twisted with the knob as he turned it. Pushing it open slowly, as if to avoid disturbing anyone resting inside, he quietly slid through a gap that was just large enough for him. Then he quickly shut it behind him. The [i]click[/i] seemed to echo like a gong in the silence.

He didn't stop there. The outer chamber was for relaxing in the day, spending time with guests and friends, of whom his parents had many. He kept going, into the bedroom. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dark. Had they returned during the day, his mother would have thrown them wide to let in the light. Today would have been perfect for that.

They were only going to investigate, to learn what they could about the trouble in their kingdom. The rumors had been terrible, and they wanted to find out the truth firsthand. He supposed they had been successful in that. They had not failed, at least there was that consolation, he told himself. They may not come back, but they had learned of the monster plaguing their land, and now he would use that knowledge. Because they could not. They were gone, and he had to make sure that they did not die in vain. That, more than anything else, more than revenge, was his duty. To protect the kingdom, not in their stead, but as his own. They were gone. He had to be sure everyone, every subject in every village, was safe. They were gone. The shock alone would threaten the kingdom, and he would hold it together. But they were still gone.

His knees felt weak, and he allowed himself to half-fall forward, just barely catching the bedpost. He clung to it, with his other hand clenched tightly in the sheets. There was no sound, but dark spots appeared on the bedding, one after another. His shoulders shook, lending him an air of fragility, but no one was there to see him on the edge of collapse. He couldn't believe it.