"Princess... It's... It's Arthur."

The words hit Frey as hard as the fire spell had hit her in the forest. She didn't take any time to ask questions or change, and within seconds she had her boots pulled on and was sprinting across the fields. Arthur doesn't get sick, she thought to herself, so why would Vishnal have come running like that? Thoughts of all of the possibilities whirled through her mind as she nearly knocked into several passersby on her way to the restaurant, and she took no time to knock before bursting through the door to Arthur's office.

The room was full, but it was silent. Everyone turned to look at her as she burst into the room, sweaty and out of breath in her nightgown. Porcoline, Margaret, Dylas, and a bunch of other faces she didn't recognize stared at her from their places as she stood there in shock. Dylas silently pointed up the stairs and she bolted upstairs, running through the open door to Arthur's bedroom.

Nancy tried to hold Frey back, but it was already too late. Frey had already seen everything.

"No!" Frey forced herself out of Nancy's grip and practically shoved Jonas out of the way, throwing herself onto Arthur's still body. She didn't care that she was getting blood all over herself, or that she was screaming so loud all of Selphia could most likely hear her. Her beloved Arthur laid sprawled out on the floor with a hole in his chest, and a bloody arrow lay next to him.

Frey didn't know if she could say anything, if she could even stop screaming and crying enough to get words out. She felt Jonas pull her off of Arthur and felt Nancy's warm arms around her as she sobbed, but she didn't want to be held. She wanted answers.

"Frey, listen-" Jonas began sternly, but Frey wasn't listening. I'll find whoever did this, she thought, and I'll kill them myself. I'll fight my way through Rune Prana until I find Arthur's soul and I'll bring him back.

Frey pushed Nancy off and stood without a word, turning on her heel and running out the door and down the stairs. She could hear voices behind her calling for her to stop, but she wouldn't listen. When she made it down to Arthur's office, she was only stopped by the gut-wrenching pain in her side, which made her fall to her knees in agony. "Arthur..." she whimpered as she knelt on the floor, covered partly in her beloved's blood and partly in her own. Voices and faces crowded around her and strong arms encircled her as her vision faded to black.

XXXXXXXXXX

When Frey woke, she was in the clinic. Nancy was sitting over her with a concerned look on her face, and behind her she could see Forte and Dolce standing, both looking equally concerned. "Frey, honey," Nancy murmured, reaching up to feel Frey's forehead. Frey tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse from screaming.

Please let it all be a dream, she thought. Please, anything but this. She winced at the sharp pain in her side, and found herself unable to sit up. When she tried to move her hands, she found that they were bound to the bed.

"Wh-" she began, but Nancy gently shushed her. "Don't worry, dear. It's just a precaution. You were running wild earlier and we didn't want you to lash out and hurt yourself." Frey nodded. It was understandable; in fact, as her vision cleared, she could make out a faint bruise on Nancy's cheek where she must have hit her in her struggle to break free. She felt really awful, like one of the monsters she regularly hunted.

After Nancy gave Frey a little bit of water, Frey felt as though she could speak - for the most part, at least. "What happened to him?" she whispered, which was the loudest she could manage.

Nancy looked down at her lap with tears in her eyes. "We're not sure. Everyone is looking into it; Illuminata thinks that, judging on the placement of the arrow and where Arthur was lying, the arrow was shot through the window. He must have gotten up and was shot while he was standing in perfect line with the window."

"Why would someone do that?" Frey murmured. It seemed as though everyone loved Arthur. He was an excellent diplomat and businessman, and had the ability to charm everybody. "He was a prince," Forte chimed in. "We're thinking it was an... an act of war."

It wasn't unheard of, but who would have done this was beyond her. Could it have been the Sechs empire? Frey thought that they were done for when she defeated Ethelberd, but... there could be sympathizers.

"Can you please unbind my wrists? I want to speak to Ventuswill and join in the search." Nancy nodded at Frey's request, and helped Frey sit up. She was sore, but her side had been wrapped up well and she had been given medicine to dull the pain well enough for her to at least walk. Forte demanded to stay by her side, and she graciously accepted the offer. Having a friend to lean on, both metaphorically and literally, would be very helpful right now.

Once Frey was fully clothed - Dolce was kind enough to lend her a dress, considering her nightgown was covered in blood - she started the trek to the castle with Forte.

As they exited the clinic, Frey felt as though everyone's eyes were on her. There was no doubt that this had all created quite the ordeal in town. Normally Frey would be embarassed by the attention, but she didn't care now. She had to find Arthur's killer, avenge her lover, and find a way to bring him back if it literally killed her.

Their trip to the castle was slow, but Forte was kind enough to stay in pace with Frey and only hold her when she needed it so as not to make an even bigger scene. When they finally arrived at the castle, Frey could hear Ventuswill's booming voice inside.

"I will not stand for violence in Selphia!" the dragon growled. "We must set this right immediately. My people are frightened."

When Frey limped into the throne room, Ventuswill stopped to stare at her. She wouldn't let her guard come down with other people around, especially not now, but she didn't protest when Frey took a seat on her massive foot. Volkanon, Bado, Raven, Barrett, Dylas, and Leon stood around the dragon as well. Frey resented the looks of pity she received as she sat there. "I'll send word back to my kingdom," Barrett said, his arms folded across his chest. Raven nodded. "As will I."

Volkanon looked tall and proud as ever, but Frey could see tears in his eyes. "I will do everything I can to keep the peace in Selphia, my Lady Ventuswill." Bado, Dylas, and Leon said nothing. Ventuswill nodded and looked to Forte. "We need a constant watch at every gate in Selphia, as well as heavy guards outside the castle and at the airship port. If this truly is an act of war, the next target could be me... or Frey. I want you to gather up the best, most able-bodied men and women in Selphia to keep watch day and night." Forte nodded solemnly.

"Isn't there anything I can do?" Frey murmured, her voice still hoarse. The room went utterly silent again and she could feel her cheeks flush bright red as everyone's eyes landed on her. The green dragon tensed underneath her.

"The best thing you can do right now is heal," Ventuswill said softly. Frey clenched her fists in anger and stood, swaying ever so slightly, but put her hand up in defiance as Forte went to steady her. "I'm not a child," she grumbled up at Ventuswill. "I can help a lot. I knew Arthur better than anyone. I-"

"If you want to be treated as an adult, then start acting like one," Ventuswill interrupted. "You're too reckless. This is more than you losing your lover, it's... it's our entire kingdom at stake."

Frey could feel herself becoming angrier at Ventuswill's words. She hated how everyone was acting as though she was utterly useless now, how everyone was treating her like some sort of mental case who would just get in the way. She had known Arthur like no other. She had loved him, and he had loved her, and they would have gotten married if given the chance. But no one seemed to consider that she could carry useful information on the prince's last days.

"Don't say something you'll regret," Forte whispered, placing a warm hand on Frey's shoulder. Frey merely nodded and let the knight lead her to her bedchamber.

XXXXXXXXXX

That night, Frey found herself unable to sleep. The castle was eerily quiet, absent of the green dragon's snores as Ventuswill had made the resolve to fly off to one of the neighboring friendly kingdoms to discuss the situation with foreign diplomats. She likely wouldn't be back until the end of the week, and it pained Frey to see her old friend leave without so much as a good-bye.

Frey slowly sat up and climbed out of bed, wincing as she did so. The pain medicine had long worn off; she had more, but hated taking it and decided to simply grin and bear it through the pain. Besides, physical pain took her mind off of Arthur. She threw on a jacket and her boots, and walked - no, limped - out across the fields behind the castle toward the barn where her silver wolf resided.

When Frey and Arthur had begin seeing each other, he had given her the pup as a present. "I bought him from a foreign monster dealer," he had told her. The wolf was so small then, small enough to fit in her arms. Right then and there, her wolf had imprinted on her. She hadn't named him; she didn't need to. He knew her, and she knew him. When she wanted him to come, she need only beckon for him in her mind, and he would come. He was smarter than the other monsters she had tamed, more loyal and fearsome. It was he who had carried her home after her last accident on the autumn road, and it hadn't been the first time he had done so.

As Frey opened the door to the barn, she could see the great silver wolf laying in the corner. His ears perked as she stepped into the dim barn and closed the door behind herself, and she made her way over to him, where she nestled down into the crook of his belly and buried her face in his fur. He reached back with his massive snout and sniffed at her for a moment before curling himself around her, and before she knew it she was asleep.