When I was seven, I stole my fathers hunting knife. I tripped off the back porch with it and sliced my hand open. When I was fourteen, I climbed up a tree to fetch Annora’s cat. I fell out of the tree and it rendered me unconscious for two days. When I was seventeen, I was fresh blood in the Kingsguard. I fractured one of my ribs when I got a knee to my side during training. And finally, now nineteen, I got run over by a horse.

I’m not new to injury, but my current state is the worst I’ve ever been in. My body is nearly entirely bruised, and I don’t even know what day it is. Luckily, I have no major broken limbs besides my middle finger on my left hand. I fear I may have another fractured rib, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. Other than that, my entire body is aching, and moving doesn’t seem to be much of an option.

Almost instantly, I begin scanning my surroundings. Only one exit, ten windows total. Extremely high ceilings, almost cathedral like in design. Long curtains are draped and pulled back with bows on either side of each window. Beautiful stained glass crowned each center window with no distinct pattern, and it made an array of colors dance on the ceiling. This place is nothing like the infirmary in the barracks. This, I can only assume, is the infirmary in the castle. Great.

On my bedside table are my belongings, including my scratched and beaten up flask. My sword is leaned up against the wall, and I try to find my backpack to no avail. The room is eerily silent, all the other beds are empty, and the high ceilings make it seem especially more lonely. I throw back the covers, my legs seem to be fine and I’m able to wiggle my toes. I watch them wiggle for a moment when I hear the creak of a door open.

I look up, and a woman I presume to be a nurse walks over to me. “How are you feeling?” Her tone is exceptionally warm, as are her hands when she uses the back of one to feel my forehead.

“Sore.” I mutter. It makes me realize just how dry my mouth is. Before I can even ask for water, shes handing me a cup. I gulp it down, wincing between gulps as it hurts going down. I know that my body will thank me later, though. “Where am I?” I ask.

“This is the castle infirmary.” Her eyes scan my body, and she lifts up one of the bandages on my arm. “What’s your name?”

“Marion Creed.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Knight Marion Creed, loyal to her Majesty.” I go to try and stand before the nurse pushes me gently back on the bed, one hand on my shoulder.

“I wouldn’t get up just yet, it’s been almost four days. Let’s get some food and water in you first.” She turns to leave, but then glances back at me. “I’ll let Commander Ulric know you’re awake.” She then begins out the door.

“Wait! Tell Fennix Orinn I’m awake, too!” I call after her, but I fear I’m too late. I lay back down in defeat. Worry fills my body. Fennix has no idea if I’m alive right now. Hells, he could be on the other side of the country for all I know. I can only pray to Krydea that I am able to find him.

After a good half an hour, the same nurse returns holding a tray. I sit up, half expecting Fennix would walk in behind her. Deep down, I knew it was unlikely, the Commander kept us on a tight schedule. He was probably stationed somewhere, or patrolling the city.

The nurse sat down the tray on the bedside table. “After you eat, how about a bath?” Her tone made it seem more like a demand than an offer.

I shook my head, “No thanks, I’ll bathe when I get back to the barracks. I won’t be in your hair much longer.” I eyed the bread and fruit on the tray, waiting for the nurse to leave me to feast like a starved animal.

The nurse didn’t say a word as she handed me a folded piece of paper. I narrowed my eyes at her, expecting her to explain, but her features didn’t change. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

My finger grazed over the silver wax seal with anxiety. It was a seal stamp I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t my fathers or Annora’s, which eased my nerves a little. Fennix wouldn’t even bother to seal it, and Commander Ulric’s seal was nearly always red. I stared at it in my hands for a moment, then I slid my nail under the seal and broke it open.

The penmanship was simply beautiful. Elegant cursive letters filled the whole page. I awed at its beauty for a moment, then began to read the letter. My heart shot up into my throat as my eyes furiously read each word.

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Marion Creed,

I hope you find yourself in better health than you were when you first arrived.

Your Commander has been notified of your injury and of your current location.

After you’ve received this letter, notify any staff you come across.

Her Royal Highness,

Queen Graelin

If the horse hadn’t killed me, this letter was about to. I reread the letter what seemed like a million times in the span of a minute. The Queen wrote me a letter. I’m in her infirmary. In her castle. My blood felt cold, my head began to spin.

Any appetite I had moments ago had vanished. I laid the letter down on the bed, not wanting to even touch it.

A letter personally written from royalty meant one of two things, it was either an invite to some fancy event with little pastries you could eat with your fingers, or it meant your imminent death.

I assume my fate is the ladder. Not only did I cause a scene in the city, but I startled her personal horses, and ruined her grand entrance. I also bled inside her damned carriage and bled onto her dress. I place my face into my hands. I feel nauseous.

After a solid three minutes of internal panic, I decided to stand. My stance is not sure footed in the least, but I am able to walk slowly. I need to find my backpack and plan my escape from the castle. My head is trying to make my rush faster than I’m able. I slowly begin to put on some pieces of my armor, but my chest piece I cannot force myself to wear. My core is too weak, and my bruised and potentially fractured rib just can’t take it.

I decide to leave it, the weight of the remainder of my armor will just slow me down. I currently only have my arms and most of my legs covered. I strapped the sheath for my sword around my chest tightly, as well as my holster for my daggers on my right thigh.

I then hide my flask inside my boot again, and I head for the door. I look back to the bed, eyeing the letter with a glare. I step back and grab it, shoving it into my other boot, then walk towards the door. After a few moments to amp myself up, I swing the door open and poke my head out. I am faced with three hallways. One on either side, and one in front of me. Gods, this castle is going to be like a maze. I turn left, trying to make as little noise as possible as I clank down the hallway.

My joints ached with each step. Not having been up for four days, my body isn’t prepared in the slightest for anything physical. I try not to wince with each step, and I whip my eyes around me cautiously.

A door on my right opens. Shit. Shit. Shit. I freeze, staring right at the short, round lady. “You’re not supposed to be up!” She exclaims, dropping the basket of linens she was holding and attempting to escort me back to the infirmary.

I begin to panic. If she escorts me back, shes going to alert who I assume is the head nurse. I will then either be locked in there, or there is going to be rumor of my attempted escape, or both, which will add more onto my already long list of things I’ve done wrong. If I hand this lady the letter I received from the Queen, I will either be sent to see the Queen herself, or I’ll be taken back to the barracks.

My thoughts begin to run wildly. I am now in debt to the Queen. I am now also in trouble with my Commander for not only being late, but causing a disturbance.

“I shall alert the nurse at once and–”

I throw a hand over her mouth, glaring down at her. She stares back up at me with a fearful look. I contemplate for a moment, and then I release her, and hand her the letter that was tucked into my boot.

She stares at the seal. Within mere seconds she has already read the letter. She looks me up and down, then turns us around, heading down the never ending hallway. “You can’t show up in this state.” She says, and with those words alone I know my fate.

I’m being taken to see the Queen.

I’m led down a different hallway, then we come to a stop. She opens the door, leading me into a grand room. This time, it appears to be a dressing room. Cushions and couches are scattered about, floral printed pillows thrown onto them. There are matching pink and white floral drapes to match the furniture, as well as two folding dividers on either side of the room.

The lady motions for me to follow her into an adjacent room, and she begins to gather bathing soaps. “Wait here.” Is all she says as she rushes out of the room.

I pick up the colorful soaps and sniff them. They all smell floral, and I turn my nose up at the scent. It all reminded me of Annora, and I hated it. She always smelt nice, always had clean hair. My hair was always a rats nest, and I practically had an entire decades worth of dirt under my nails.

I admired all the hairbrushes and combs, all the sponges and scrubbers. Bottles of oils and bowls of different flower petals sat on the table adjacent to the gold clawed bathtub.

While lost in admiration, the lady returned, and four other women filed in behind her. One, I recognized. It was the nurse. “I see you’re able to walk.” She says, “Good. Her Majesty has been waiting long enough.”

I begin to question her, but then I’m being stripped down. Again. The women make quick work of my armor, this time gently placing it aside. One of the ladies fills up the bath with hot water, while the nurse adds some floral smelling oil to the tub. I scrunch up my nose.

She giggles at my expression, “It’s her majesty's favorite scent, I’m doing you a favor.” She then adds petals to the tub.

By the time shes done adding everything to the bath, I’m stripped down to nothing but my bandages. I make a lame attempt to cover myself, but am guided into the bathtub.

I take a seat in the bath, and I watch as the tallest of all five women leaves with my underclothes. “Hey! I’ll need those back, I don’t have another set.” I bark.

“These are going to need quite the scrub. I’ll find you new underclothes for the time being, but don’t worry, I’ll have them returned to you.” She smiles, leaving the room.

I feel fingers run through my hair. “You need a haircut,” One says. “And a good oil.” She takes a cup of water and pours it over my head, I instantly feel refreshed.

After a few minutes of them all bathing me, the shorter lady I met in the hallway walks over to the armoire sat near the door of the room. “Red or green?”

I shoot her a confused look. “Why?”

“You’ve been invited to the Queen’s coronation ball!” She exclaims and steps aside, the armoire now open, showcasing two dresses. “So, red or green?”

I wish the horse had killed me.