Oath: III. Fugitive

Day after day slips away in vain, The princess wanders far, through endless pain. Her veil is torn, her hair a tangled mess, Deep-rooted vengeance fills her heart with bitterness. She still sees the palace engulfed in flame, Her knight is gone — no word, no trace, no name. Memories riot, echoing wild and raw, “Tyranny is dead!” — or so the rumors draw. Through cities and villages she makes her way, Searching for hope in the light of day. But traitors are watching from shadows near, Ready to strike where peace seems clear. Suddenly a hand pulls her rough and fast, A ragged veiled woman drags her at last. “Don’t ask questions — just follow me now! We must flee before they find out somehow!” With steady steps the princess runs along, Following the woman, trusting her song. She knows that voice from days long past, They rush into the forest as night falls vast. Together they sit silent on cold stone, The woman’s tears fall to the earth alone. Once a princess, now a hunted soul, The loyal servant who could not let her fall. The princess draws near, her voice soft and kind, “I’m still alive — leave your fear behind.” The servant chokes, her words in turmoil grand, “I am your faithful maid, loyal to the end.” The princess’ eyes burn fierce through the mist, She swears to reclaim what the traitors have seized. Her hand clenches tight on the dagger she drew, “I’ll destroy you all, you cowardly crew!”