Zira was a guard. That was something she had been for most of her life, but not just any guard. She was the personal guard of Princess Jezmerine of Eliak. A position that she had been most proud of.
Had.
That past tense hurt more than it should. She had been the guard of her princess Jezmerine. She wasn't any longer. Because her lady was dead.
Dead…
That also hurt.
It was almost surreal to think about it. Her lady being dead. That wasn't right at all. Dead and her princess didn't belong in the same sentence. Her princess was so full of energy. So full of life. Just the mere thought of her being anything but caused Zira's mind to stall. Her lady could not be dead.
But she was. Zira had seen the body. Had felt her heart still within the confines of her chest as she laid eyes upon her failure. She failed to protect the one person she had sworn her life to.
Guard. What a joke…