Because after Tommy’s memories start coming back and he goes a little insane and leaves the palace in search of Amadeus and ends up possibly getting kidnapped and found by the Rebellion, I need someone who is willing to kill him.
Any takers?
((Kate could do it… I know you have a plan, but if that plan fails, she is gung ho about doing what’s right and that means taking down the royal family.))
Kate woke up with a yelp and a soft sob. She wasn’t having a nightmare, that wasn’t why she was upset. She was upset because waking up meant going back to the nightmare. The sting of feeling something so comfortable and real almost made her sick to her stomach. She sat up, brushing leaves off her hair and blanket and looked around the dense trees in the overgrown park. No sign of anyone. Awesome. She pulled her backpack close, arrows rattling in the makeshift quiver, and she pulled out her journal. It was honestly the dumbest thing to have ever, but writing was a comfort when there was no one else to talk to.
**
New day.
I dreamed of a normal life.
How fucked up is that?
I dreamed I was in high school and that I was in every class ever and I was probably going to a super nice school called Yale. My parents and sister were alive and we were rich. I was normal, and popular. No royalty, no slaves, just people living their lives.
Oh! And the kicker. Prince Thomas was some awkward guy that had a bad crush on me.
I think I dreamed of something else with him in it. He and his brother were my friends. Good friends.
Seriously, I need to find some better food, cause what I’m scrounging is giving me the most bizarre dreams ever.
I’ve been travelling on my own for six days now. There have got to be some other freedom fighter types around here. I can’t be the only one who thinks this needs to stop. Granted, the past two days I haven’t ventured far out of the park since I can actually catch food here. There aren’t many places safe to start a fire, though.
I made part of my backpack into a quiver and made some new arrows. I still have three of the nice straight ones, but mine are okay. Plus I’m working on some different tips. One has grooves for paralytic poison (just need to find said poison). Then there’s one that will have flint and gunpowder in it. Ideally it’ll explode and not just made a sad sizzling sound before spitting a plume of smoke. Whatever, I’m working on it. Anyway, I’m going to do some more intensive scouting today and see what I can find. Wish me luck journal, oh wait, you’re a book. Never mind.
**
Kate closed the journal and slipped it back into her bag, then packed up her scrappy little blanket. It was time to take some bigger risks and see if they got her anywhere. She was tough, but not tough enough to convince herself that she wasn’t stone cold terrified. Shrugging on her bag and bow, she took a deep breath and ventured cautiously out of the tree line.
