Chapter 49: The Maid's Demise

Eliana’s heart jumps into her throat. Jasper. Is he here? She takes in a deep breath and on the very edge of the bombardment of scents, is the pure bliss of lavender. She holds herself up, refusing to fall into her relief. How will he be able to save her?
The soldiers come running through the entryway, their swords at the ready. A majority ride horses with the Climont colors glinting proud. Before Eliana can set her gaze on Jasper, several waves of wolves pounce into the courtyard, slaughtering dozens of rebels.
Drake has brought werewolves?
“Eliana, run,” Evyn barks out at her from the ground.
She blinks as she glances over at him, processing his words. “Oh, of course.” She thinks before picking up her heavy chains and stumbling to the steps. As she takes the first one, Selma screams, lunging at her. The Princess does not have time to even cry out in terror as they both freefall off the platform. Eliana closes her eyes, preparing for the pain, but instead she lands into a strong embrace.
Lavender coats every inch of her senses, overwhelming her entire body. Cautiously, she opens her eyes and looks up at Jasper.
“Are you alright,” he inquires, his hands roaming her body in search of injuries.
Eliana only nods, every nerve that is touching him lighting on fire. Her throat becomes raspy and cold, her chest tight.
Jasper gently sets her down before picking up the ring of keys attached to the executioner’s belt. He finds the correct one within only a few minutes.
As the heavy metal falls away, Eliana rubs at her raw skin, “Thank you.”
The werebear nods before turning his attention on the battle raging.
Drake is still atop his horse, swinging his sword at the rebels. One of the werewolves, one with a unique silver coat, circles Drake’s steed, leaping at anyone that gets remotely close.
Evyn now has an injured Alma in his arms, swatting at any individuals that try to get near.
“Stay behind me,” Jasper orders, urging her to stand behind his broad shoulders.
Eliana tightens her fists, her gaze searching out Selma. She will not get away with this. As her vision clears and her senses heighten, Eliana bites down a gasp at the heat radiating from Jasper. She gulps down her emotions and focuses on her determination. Her fingers hook in, claws forming from her nails.
Jasper is shifting as well, his body growing larger. His shirt is ripped to shreds as his shoulders stretch the material. Although Eliana wants to revel in his sight, she hones in on the maid who is slowly limping away.
The Princess stealthily maneuvers through the crowd, only occasionally having to slash into a rebel or rip the throat out of a soldier. Tasting metallic liquid in her mouth, she continues on.
Selma crawls up the steps of the castle, her leg broken form the fall. Eliana allows her to reach half way up, when the maid stops, exhausted and hopeless. She approaches, smoothly ascending the stars. Fur coats her body as she reaches down to force Selma to face her.
The woman’s gaze is wide with fear. She gulps, trembling, “Please, I am sorry. Spare me.”
Eliana wants to laugh at Selma’s absurdity. “You ask for mercy, after everything you have done. You killed my mother and grandmother.” An uncontrollable fury rages through her.
“I am so sorry, please, I will not do this ever again.” Selma shifts uncomfortably on the stairs until she is kneeling in front of Eliana.
The Princess wants to sneer. The comment alone twists in her chest. “Your apologies mean nothing to me.”
The maid whimpers quietly, the wrinkles adorning her face only seeming even more deep now as fear shakes her.
“Do you not remember what I said last night,” Eliana hisses. “I will kill you.”
Selma’s gaze is filled with large tears that bubble over. She turns and tries to crawl away as quickly as possible, but is unsuccessful as Eliana grabs a hold of her broken leg. The woman shrieks, falling into a ball of sobs.
“You should have predicted this outcome Selma.” Eliana bares her teeth, hissing.
Yanking on the maid’s leg, the human tumbles down the stairs, banging her head on each step as she goes.
Eliana does not relish inflicting pain, but as she looks at Selma, all she can see is her mother and a faceless woman who would have been her grandmother. Their lives were snuffed out too early. She was not given more time.
The Princess descends the steps once more, until she meets the maid at the bottom. She is curled up in a ball, sobbing. Her temples are bleeding from her injuries. She stands over Selma for a moment, watching the woman suffer. There is a guilt tightening in her chest. She is a Princess, she should not be acting this way.
Breathing in deeply, Eliana steps back.
“You are lucky I am merciful. I will spare your life,” she growls out, her body returning to normal.
The battle is slowly dying down. Evyn approaches Olisnia with a limp Alma. Drake hops down from his steed, laughing as the wolf that was near him sits down right next to him.
Eliana smiles softly, watching her friends. “You will spend the rest of your life in the dungeon, watching Drein prosper with both Pivurlion and humans living together in harmony.”