I bent down to the ground covered in thick grass and pinched off a sky-blue flower with my fingers. I tucked it into the middle of the bouquet in my hand and gazed at it in fascination. I truly liked it! It was true that they bloomed in the same color every day, but today's had turned out exceptionally beautiful.
"Miss! Miss!"
Anne's thin voice carried to me through the wind from afar. I spun around on my heel, my long pale-yellow dress swirling around me.
"Mi—Miss, finally… finally I found you!" The young girl stopped in front of me, leaning on her knees and gasping for breath, her brown locks falling into her face. "You must come quickly!" she managed to say once she caught her breath.
Her eyes looked at me in sheer desperation.
"What happened, Anne?" I stepped closer and took her arm, helping her straighten.
"We must hurry—your father is very ill! He sent me to fetch you; he wants to speak with you."
The girl spoke so fast her words nearly stumbled over one another, but I didn't wait for her to finish. I dropped the bouquet to the ground and ran toward the castle. I threw open the right wing of the massive carved wooden entrance door. Taking the spiral stairs two at a time, I sprinted down the corridor and burst into my father's bedchamber without knocking.
A maid was dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth, but when she saw me, she curtseyed quickly and left, closing the door behind her. The room, painted deep crimson, felt suffocating. I hurried to the bed and sat beside him. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to me and smiled faintly, but then a deep, rattling cough escaped his throat. He leaned slightly to the side, covering his mouth with a white embroidered handkerchief.
"Father!" I gasped, raising a trembling hand to my lips. I had never seen him so ill.
The coughing fit gradually subsided, and he sank back into the pillows.
"My little girl," he whispered faintly. "My precious girl."
His trembling hand reached toward me, and I immediately embraced him, pressing close. His face was pale, his lips cracked, sweat running down his brow.
"Father, everything will be all right. You'll get better," I said, lifting his large hand to my lips and pressing a soft kiss upon it.
Tears welled in his eyes and slid slowly down the wrinkles of his face, along his chin, and into his greying beard. Seeing his pain blurred my own vision. I wanted to stay strong, but seeing him like this broke me completely. I had never seen my father cry.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he sobbed loudly, no longer in full control of himself.
"Sshh," I soothed him, though inside I was trembling with fear.
"I love you, Carina!" He tangled his fingers in my honey-blonde hair and drew me against his chest. "Never forget me—or how much I love you!"
My lungs tightened as I realized he was saying goodbye. I couldn't bear it; my whole being trembled as a sob tore from my throat.
"Father, you'll get better!" I took his face between my hands and looked into those beautiful dark-brown eyes.
"I'm sorry, Carina. It's all my fault…" His words made no sense to me. Perhaps he was losing his mind.
"Father, what are you talking about? I don't understand."
He reached under his pillow and pulled out a small journal bound in burgundy leather, pressing it into my hands.
"Listen to me, my daughter," he said, taking my face between his shaking hands. "This—this is a… a…"
Suddenly, he clutched his chest and groaned in pain, his breathing quickening.
"No, Father! Fight! You can't die!" I cried as tears streamed down my cheeks, terror gripping me.
"Carina…" he gasped. "It's a… a curse… You must run… You're not safe…"
My mind reeled; I didn't want to believe what I was hearing. What curse? Why wasn't I safe?
"Father, why are you saying this? Where would I even go? I've never left the estate—I don't know what lies beyond the castle!" I sobbed.
"You must flee from the Prince of Darkness. He has already set out… he wants to kill you," he forced out every word with great effort. "Hurry—before he finds you!"
Terror seized me as his words sank in, and I felt that he was telling the truth—it wasn't the fever talking. Someone wanted to kill me. Someone was already on their way.
"I love you, my daughter. Never forget that," he whispered softly, and then let out one long, final sigh.
"Father! Father!" I screamed, shaking him, but he did not move.
"Nooooo!" I cried at the top of my lungs toward the heavens before collapsing over him.
For minutes I sobbed and screamed, lost in a haze of grief. Then I felt arms lifting me, carrying me gently, and finally laying me on a soft bed. I looked up and saw Charles above me—then everything went dark as sleep finally claimed me.