She was walking through the halls, passing time, when she saw someone familiar walking towards her. Her fists clenched unconsciously. It was Sir Alanna, the first female knight in centuries, and the woman who killed Alex. The purple eyes were sorrowful, even before they saw Kiala, and then the sadness deepened. Struggling to fight her anger, Kiala strode past, head high but eyes wet and misty, then started, surprised, as Alanna lay a hand on her arm.

"Raoul's sister?" the knight asked. Kiala gritted her teeth and nodded speechlessly. "You have his eyes," Alanna sighed. "Look. Kiala. Raoul told me… about you and Alex. And I am so sorry." Kiala was about to respond angrily, but she saw in Alanna's violet eyes that she really meant it.

"It… it's all right," Kiala whispered. "He was your friend too."

"He wasn't as close to me as he was to you." The lady knight sighed deeply. "Kiala, I lost loved ones myself that day. I know how hard it is to forgive."

The girl was about to respond testily, but something in Alanna's eyes made her change her mind. "It's all right," she said again, her eyes filling with tears. "I… I'll get over him…" It was a blatant lie, and she knew it- and so did Alanna. But the knight sighed again, and smiled faintly.

"I'm sorry," she said again, then turned away and headed down the corridor, leaving Kiala shocked at her decency. She had imagined a huge, dragon-like woman, forgetting how tiny Alan had been, but seeing the real Alanna, she realised that the knight was a couple of inches shorter than her.

She missed the friendly feeling when she thought about Alan. Now she felt hatred. It was dangerous, but she hated Sir Alanna.

~*~

It was that afternoon, she put her request to King Jonathan and Queen Thayet: clear the name of Alexander of Tirragen. She had a good argument for him. It was not his fault; it was the fault of Roger of Conté; and she knew she would argue that until the day she died.

The King refused. He did not try to argue with her. He refused to clear Alex's name.

Kiala returned to her rooms in grief-stricken tears.

~*~

She didn't do much, over the next few days. During the day, she wandered around the halls alone, or sat in the room that she had been given, but always alone. At night, she cried herself to sleep, the only thing in her mind Alex. Every night, she knew she was over-reacting, but suddenly her life was gone. She had set her heart on this one man, and now… now he was no longer there for her… even in dreams, he was gone, she couldn't dream any more…

It was a cold night when it happened. Slowly, feeling detached from the world, she pulled herself out of bed. She dragged on a robe, tied it, then wandered ghost-like through the halls. It was late, very late. Nobody was awake. There was a faint light from under a door ahead, but Kiala ghosted past it without a sound. She headed down stairs, always down, her mind cold and empty of everything.

The lower levels were totally deserted. Kiala moved through the rooms, cut off from the world, like she was no longer there. Then she came into a room, and she knew. She didn't know how, but she knew.

She could… see him, see his lifeless body, on the floor beside the wall… Her eyes filling, she drifted over to him, crouching, touching his cold face… inside, something was crying to her, telling her that this was not real, but he was so clearly there, his nose broken, his lips pale.

Kiala knelt beside him, touching his cheek, his hair… she could feel him, her fingers gently running over his cold skin, but still something wailed at her to stop, that this was not real, she was dreaming. That part of her could not feel Alex's body; it only felt the cold stone of the floor, but it was overwhelmed.

The tears spilled over and she whispered wordlessly, sobbing silently at the remains of her shattered life that so solidly lay in front of her, but at the same time didn't…

Her hand slipped slightly, and she touched her own side. Something hard was there, something she didn't remember putting on… a small dagger, in a sheath; she drew it slowly, watching the blade glint, then turning her attention back to the surreal body of her love.

"I'm sorry, Alex," she whispered, running one finger over his cheek, her hallucination growing more real my the minute. "I'm sorry… I couldn't help you…"

The breath spilled from her lungs as the knife sheared through her flesh, just below her breastbone, and she collapsed onto the floor where she had believed Alex's body to have been lying.