the glint of the crown reflected from the moonlight as he stood inhumanly still. his eyes swept across the unlit city below him as a cool breeze fluttered his cape. he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, the beat of his heart echoing in his chest. the days events replaying in his head as he began to plan for the next. the feeling of a gentle pressure drew his attention back to the present and his eyes opened. glancing beside him, he saw the still figure of the love of his life standing, her delicate hand resting on his shoulder. he let out a shaky breath and moved his hand to cover her smaller one as he closed his eyes. the effect she had on him had always shocked him. he was a prince, the power of the world in his hands. people bowed to him and heeded his every word. and yet the moment she spoke, he melted. she was the one thing that held power over him. a queen, an empress in all but name. the pressure leaving his shoulder drew his attention away from his thoughts as he opened his eyes and looked to his side. the girl was gone. he froze, the memory of her hitting him like a tidal wave. the memory of her spinning through the ballroom as the candles and the starlight cast an ethereal glow around her. the gorgeous gown she had worn billowing out around her legs as he watched her from his throne, his full attention locked on her movements. the memory of the arrow shot from seemingly nowhere finding its way into her chest. the memory of the look on her face, wide eyes, her mouth forming a little ‘o’ in shock. the memory of her eyes locking with his as she reacher her shaking hand out towards him, silently begging for a savior. the memory of rushing to her as her tiny body crumpled, the crown on her head falling to the floor, creating a sound of metal hitting stone mixed with the cries of the people watching. the memory of holding her body close to him as he wept. the memory of her gentle breaths as her hand pressed to his chest, staring up at him with the eyes that had always enraptured him. the memory of her whispered “i love you” as her breaths finally stopped. the memory of crying out in pure desperation, in pure pain, as the love of his life was ripped away from him. the hand on his shoulder had never been there. the image of his love beside him had not been real. she was gone, and he had gone with her.
ghosts ; r.t.