Galavan staggered across the throne room, stumbling over the countless bodies that laid at his feet. Both his friends and foes had been slain in the battle earlier that morning, but he was victorious. “Sire,” a tall knight in dented and grimy armor called to him. “King Saladrome is dead: it’s over.” “Thank you, Sir Thomas,” Galavan grunted. He leaned against a blood-stained white marble pillar and took a ragged breath. “This isn’t over until Abigayle is back in my arms though.” “Of course, my liege, but you should recover. I’ll send my most trusted men to-“ “No! All of this happened because I thought I could trust Egor with protecting Abigayle; I’m saving her myself this time.” “Galavan, your injured. What if there is a guard, or-“ “Thomas, this was Saladrome’s last stand. He didn’t have a man to spare: we out numbered his forces and cutoff his reinforcements.” “Still, we should tend to your injuries before you rush off alone.” “My love is waiting for me. I’ll have my wounds addressed after she is back by my side. Focus on securing the area—and do not let anyone through to the tower until we return.” “Very well, my lord.” With a grunt, Galavan stood up and struggled towards the large wooden door that led to the tallest tower of Saladrome’s castle. His left hand clutched his bleeding gut as he forced one foot in front of the other. “I’ll be there soon, my love,” Galavan whispered through gritted teeth. He threw open the doors and began ascending the cobble stone spiral stair case behind them. Only a few torches lit the bare stone walls, and Galavan soon lost track of how high he had climbed. Pain shot through his entire body with each step he managed to take; blood dribbled past his hand and dripped onto the stairway. “Don’t lose heart, Abigayle,” Galavan said despite being alone. “Your one true love will save you soon!” As the throbbing pain grew unbearable, Galavan thought of his beloved Abigayle. Her brown hair, green eyes, mesmerizing smile, and adorable laugh spurred Galavan up the tower. “You must be so scared, so lonely...” Galavan mumbled, fighting to stay conscious. “After this, I shall marry you right away. We can go on that trip to the southern bay that you have dreamed of. I’ll make all of your dreams come true.” Despite the encouraging thoughts, Galavan couldn’t help but think, “None of this would have happened if Egor didn’t betray me! I would kill him a thousand times to avoid climbing these stairs.” Galavan looked up, and the end of the staircase finally appeared. His breathing was ragged, but the knight in shining armor was able to climb the staircase to his damsel in distress. Nothing could keep them apart now. “Abigayle, I’ve come to rescue you, my love!” Galavan announced as he threw open the dark stained wooden door at the top of the tower. Despite the pain, he stood up straight with his hands on his hips. “Galavan?” Abigayle asked, turning away from a large window. She looked like a frightened angel, brown hair flowing in the breeze, green eyes puffy, tears on her cheek, hands clasped. Her brow furrowed when she saw the tall dark haired knight standing in the doorway. “Yes, if is me!” Galavan answered. “I’ve come to save you, my love.” Abigayle’s expression darkened. “But Saladrome-“ “He can not hurt you anymore, dearest.” “What do you mean?” “He is dead, and now we-“ “Saladrome is dead?” Abigayle repeated. Her eyes widened and darted from one side of the room to another. “Calm down, love! Yes, he has paid for all that he has done to you with his life,” Galavan assured her. “How can you be sure he is dead?” Abigayle asked. She trembled slightly. “My love, do not be afraid. We laid siege to the castle, and Sir Thomas slayed Saladrome himself.” “He’s... dead?” “Yes, I’m sure of it. Now we can go back to our life together: I have already made arrangements for the wedding. You have nothing left to fear.” “I see...” Abigayle buried her face in her hands, and tears began to flow. “This had to be hard on you, but do not cry! We are together again, and nothing can separate us now.” Galavan hobbled across the room and embraced the shaking princess. Pain shot through his stomach yet again. This time it was more intense—causing Galvan to fall to his knees. Still, he held Abigayle tightly. “Sorry, my dearest,” Galavan croaked. “The fight with Saladrome left me wounded, but I had to come to you.” “Why?” Abigayle cried. “Because I love-“ Intense pain forced Galavan to stop talking. This time the pain radiated from his shoulder blade. “Why did you kill him?” Abigayle shrieked, driving the dagger deeper into Galavan’s back. “What... how...” Galavan muttered before falling to the ground. “Egor risked his life to help me escape you, and I thought that I could finally be happy!” “You were kidnapped... we were happy...” “No, you were happy! That is how you always are: making everyone miserable so that you can have whatever you want!” “But, I love you...” “I don’t love you!” Abigayle bursted into tears. “The only man I’ve ever loved was killed by you and your army!” “No...” Galavan slumped onto the floor. His eyes widened as he gasped and struggled to breathe. “We were happy...” “Everything we did was to make you happy: I was never happy with you, and you never paid enough attention to me to notice!” “That’s... not true...” Closing his eyes, Galavan saw his life flash before his eyes. He couldn’t recall a single time that Abigayle had smiled. “It’s true; you have to realize that it is...” Galavan’s breathing grew more ragged and weak. Every fiber of his being hurt. With his last breath, he could only utter one word, “Sorry...”