Peter bolted out of his bed, and stood in the hallway. The Queen was walking toward him with a a smile, and a blood on her shirt, and a pair of scissors.
"My Queen." Said Peter bowing grandly.
"I'm sorry Peter. I didn't mean to wake you." She apologized.
She got closer to him, ruffled his hair, and glanced in his eyes. She smiled lovingly, and sighed. "Just like your mother." She murmured, and walked away. Peter stood, frozen in horror, watching her form fade into the distance, before finally breathing.
Peter sprinted down the hallway, and what he saw in Lexa's cell almost broke his heart. Lexa was curled up in the corner, her back was to him, in a beautiful green dress, but at the top of the dress, between her shoulder blades were two parallel cuts, at least a fourth of an inch deep. Her hair was cut short, only a little longer then his fingertips. He had to end this, and he had to end this now.
Peter looked like a man possessed running through the halls. His face was cold with malice. He went to Sam, and Cat's room, and pulled them out of their beds, and told them to start packing; they obeyed with wide sleepy eyes.
Lexa streched; her sweat stinging her cuts. It had been two hours since the Queen had left, and she was fearing her return.
The Queen had caught her talking to Frankie. Lexa lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She thought about what the Queen might have planned for Frankie. She shuddered at the thought, and then stood statuesque when she heard footsteps. Her eyes were glued to the floor.
"Lexa." She was about to scold him again, but she noticed that the door was open. He motioned for her to follow, and he grabbed her hand.
Peter was running as fast as he could. Lexa wasn't running so much as being dragged lovingly, because she tripped every ten seconds. Sam, and Cat met them at the end of the hallway. Lexa wanted to asked who they were, but she knew it wasn't the time. They were halfway through the thrown room when the lights came on.