Enya's heavy breathing echoed as she ran through the alleys of the capital. Her only support, her hand, slid across the stone wall. It held Enya up, her legs wanting to give out after running for so long. The orange moonlight cast a sinister glow on the town, almost as if warning Enya of her doom. Enya thought back on the night.
A long, marvelous table stretched out before Enya, food of all kinds adorning its surface. Her father sat across from her, too far for Enya's quiet voice to reach. Enya spooned some soup into her mouth.
“Enya,” her father spoke, sounding stern. Enya looked up from her plate.
“With your birthday arriving soon, I have arranged your marriage as custom.” Enya placed her spoon down.
With a blank expression, Enya asked, “May I ask with whom?”
“You may.” Her father turned towards his servant. “Let him in.”
The servant bowed and opened a majestic door that begged to touch the ceiling. Outside stood Rayburn, a man of great importance. His forty-seven years earned him sighs of respect everywhere he walked. Being the King's confidant only helped his standing escalate. Rayburn walked up to the table and bowed.
“Please excuse me. Your majesty, if I may, have you told her?”
“I see.” Rayburn turned to Enya. “Princess, I promise to do my utmost best for the kingdom.” Enya narrowed her eyes at his unconvincing smile.
“Right...” Enya snapped out of it and showed Rayburn a smile. “I am sure you will,” she told him. The King furrowed his brow, watching her.
The clock tolled midnight throughout the castle, but it was too late. Enya stole a quick glance around the corner she hid behind. A maid passed the hall perpendicular to her.
Enya dashed through the halls, twisting past every corner and ducking behind every object until she stood before a cousin of the door to the dining room. It stretched even taller, enchanting anyone who got the chance to see it.
Enya slid it open a crack, Rayburn's words echoing in her mind, “I promise to do my utmost best for the kingdom.”
Too bad I won't be here to see it...