Run, Highness!

That this was not a love-match was hardly surprising. It amused her that the groom spent most of the wedding ceremony flirting with Lyra. Also that apparently two souls could be bound for all eternity without either one of them having to actually say anything to consent to it. But she was more than a little confused when the groom abruptly stood up and said, "Come Mother, you must be eager to see Father."

Mother? First of all she was . . . alright, yes, she probably WAS old enough to be this man's mother, since he looked to be in his early twenties. But the body Sera was in? It was no older than he was. So calling her "Mother" was just offensive. And eager to see . . . Father?

Wait, was he not actually her husband? Sera frowned as she accepted the hand he'd offered and got to her feet. Her feet were still aching from the long walk up the path. Sera had spent a stretch of the climb debating whether she should risk trying to escape, but with her choices being to run back down the path or plunge over the steep sides of the hill, she'd opted against it flight. With the advantage of their booted feet, the guardswomen would have no trouble catching Sera if she stayed on the path, and racing straight down the side would be deadly if she tripped.

Escape ruled out, Sera had concentrated solely on getting to the top of the hill without breaking down in tears as the path chewed up her feet. She couldn't quite suppress her relief when she was able to sit down on the cushion opposite the groom. It was only once she was seated that Sera realized she had no idea what was expected of her in this ceremony. Silently praying that there would be cues, she listened attentively.

Thus, she finally found out who everyone thought she was.

Amalthea, Princess Royal of Tyris Ordan.

It was an unexpectedly short name. Weren't royalty supposed to have a long string of names? But then it took at least half an hour for the turquoise-robed priest to recite the names of all of Amalthea's ancestors, something he did without a single cue-card to remind him, so perhaps it didn't matter. What was the point of a family name if everyone new the names of your parents and grandparents back for a hundred generations?

The groom was named Jarek, King of Drekmar, and evidently he couldn't be bothered to show up for his own wedding.

'And what is this resentment you're feeling, woman?' Sera scolded herself. First of all, she didn't want to be married at all, much less to a complete stranger. Second, marriage-by-proxy wasn't exactly unheard of for royalty, though Sera's understanding was that it had had more to do with politics and difficulty of travel in pre-modern times. Judging from the guns and the and the flying sleigh—err, palanquin—'pre-modern' didn't apply in this case, but politics undoubtedly did.

She had no business being insulted that some man she'd never heard of hadn't shown up to their wedding. Besides—

"Highness! The Chain!" gasped one of the maids, and Sera reflexively tightened her grip on the heavy string of beads and jerked her arm upward. Keeryn leaned in to whisper a warning that dropping the 'Chain of Eternal Union' was bad luck and Sera rolled her eyes. Apparently every culture had its superstitions. Since it cost her nothing to humor this one, Sera made certain she was not about to let the string dangle on the ground.

At least it sounded like she wouldn't have to walk all the way back down the hill, since the stand-in-groom had demanded a vehicle be summoned. Sera wondered if it would be breaking some sort of custom if she sat back down to spare her feet. Her stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding her that it had been hours since she'd woken and she had yet to have anything to eat or drink.

No wonder Amalthea was so skinny.

It would probably be shocking if she picked up the ceremonial bread and tried to eat it. Right?

Right, she concluded unhappily.

Maybe there would be food in the vehicle they were waiting on? If not, she was going to have to find out if 'Princess Amalthea' actually had enough clout to demand a halt for a meal.

How long was is supposed to take for this 'flyer' thing to get here, anyway? One of the groomsmen had pulled out what looked like a cellphone to summon it, so it couldn't be that long, right? Maybe could ask him to order—

One of the groomsmen lunged over the table and tackled Sera to to the ground, knocking the breath out of her. For a moment she lay stunned beneath him. An unhelpful part of her brain noted that he had impressive shoulders and very pretty black hair. His face was saved from being too pretty by wide cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose, and a faint scar that bisected the lower of his very kissable lips.

'Seriously? What is wrong with you, girl?' Sera mentally scolded herself. She was vaguely aware that the hilltop had erupted in shouts and screaming while she gawked at the man who'd tackled her. There was no excuse for this reaction. It hand't been THAT long since she'd had sex.

Okay, yes it had, but that was beside the point. Scars and cheekbones aside, he was still practically a baby. And the look in his amber-colored eyes was chillingly cold.

"Get off me!" she demanded.

"Drop the soulstonesmeris," the man demanded. Sera wasted a moment trying to puzzle out that last part, but then one of the guardswoman collapsed on top of both of them and drove the breath out of Sera for a second time. Sera's attacker swore and shrugged the guardswoman away. The woman slid off to the side and rolled onto her back, eyes staring blankly at the sky.

If she'd had the breath for it, Sera would have screamed in horror. Instead she just stared stupidly as the man jerked her onto her feet. One hand tightly clasped around hers, the man pushed Sera behind two of her screaming maids, ordering, "Stay down!"

A heartbeat later one of the maids jerked and spun around, her shoulder bloodied by a bullet wound. Sera reached out to catch her as she crumpled towards the ground. The maid's weight was almost enough to knock Sera off her feet, but she managed to catch her balance just in time. A moment later the other maid cried out and staggered into Sera as she took a shot in her thigh. The bullet went through the other woman's flesh and clipped Sera across the leg just above the knee. The wound stung, but it wasn't bad and now was not the time to whine about minor inconveniences.

Then there was a screen of guardswomen between Sera, the two injured maids, and the shooter. But not for long, even as Sera shifted the weight of the first maid in her arms, a bullet slammed into a guardswoman's head. For a moment Sera was frozen in horror as she stared at the fallen woman.

Why was she just standing there waiting to be shot? Why hadn't she run?Tears welled up in Sera's eyes at the pointless death.

A cackle of gleeful laughter rang out over all the shouts and the screams, and Sera turned to see Lyra giggling as members of the bridal party, most of them guardswomen, were picked off by the shooter. She hung off the arm of the . . prince? Stand in groom? Whoever he was.

The groom looked completely unperturbed by the carnage. But then, except for a few superficial wounds, none of his party had actually been harmed. What looked very much like a helicopter was soaring towards the hill. It bristled with guns, which should have been a relief, but Sera found herself doubting the approaching 'flyer' meant safety.

"Get off the hill!" she shouted.

The guardswomen's commander had been helping an injured woman to her feet, but at Sera's shout the commander jerked around and took a step towards Sera.

"Princess, get down!" the woman shouted, as a bullet whizzed through the space she'd occupied a heartbeat earlier. She twisted back to growl an order at the injured woman, who nodded and limped towards the other guardswomen who were for some stupid reason bunched up to put themselves between Sera and the shooter. What did they think they were going to do with their spears against a sniper who could be a mile away? "Princess! GET. DOWN! Company, stand your ground!"

With a sinking feeling, Sera realized the guardswomen would stand there, forming a human barricade, until the sniper picked off every last one of them. Which meant Sera had to get everyone—or at least the women—off the hill.

She grabbed the maid with the injured thigh and tugged her to her feet demanding, "What is your name?"

The woman blinked at Sera in confusion. After a moment she stammered, "You know my name, Highness. I've served you for six years."

"Of course I know your name," Sera lied. "I want to see if you know it."

The waspish tone was apparently the right one to take, because the maid straightened and said, "Blythe, Highness. I am Blythe, Lady Sonvere."

"Good, you pass. Bonus round. Who is this?" Sera demanded. And Blythe looked at the other maid.

"Avril, Lady Wesmore."

"Good job. Take Avril and get the hell down behind the hill before either of you gets shot again," Sera barked, and shoved the maid with the shoulder wound at Blythe.

"But we mustn't leave you—" Blythe began uncertainly.

"Are you defying me?" Sera demanded in her iciest voice. The one she reserved for Rick. Blythe paled. Avril whimpered. "I didn't think so. Move!"

She gave the two maids a shove to get them moving and they stumbled towards the edge of the hill and then looked around for the other maids. She flinched away from the sight of one, indisputably dead, spotted another sobbing over the form of a third. The third maid proved to be unconscious, not dead. Seizing the cup of ceremonial wine, Sera dribbled a bit on the woman's face, and she blinked awake.

"Can you walk?" Sera demanded. The woman nodded. Sera looked to the sobbing woman. "Help her. Go over the edge and straight down the hill where the sniper can't get you."

The sobbing maid threw her arms around Sera's neck, babbling in gratitude. The other maid rolled her eyes, grimaced when it hurt, and pried her companion off of Sera's neck. She, too, ventured, "We should stay with you."

"I'll be right behind you," Sera promised, and after a long, searching look, the maid with the head wound nodded and dragged her sobbing companion to safety.

With another glance around the hill, Sera found Keeryn where she was crouched beside a fallen guardswoman. Sera hunkred down beside her, noting as she did that the guardswoman was pale and clammy, and bleeding from a wound in her side. But apparently lucid, because she tried to get up when she spotted Sera.

"We need to slow the bleeding," Sera said, and yanked up the top layer of her dress to reach the first of the many under layers. Seizing the knife from the guardswoman's belt, she stabbed the tip into the skirt, puncturing the fabric near her thigh. The fabric was thin and sheer, and the guardswoman's knife was sharp, so it was surprisingly easy to cut off the bottom two thirds of the shift. And, unexpectedly, the one beneath it. Tearing the two layers of skirt into strips was easy, the knife not even necessary. She wadded several strips two into pads and cut another strip into smaller pieces. "Press this against the wound and help me lift her."

Eyes still wide, Keeryn nodded and did as she was told. A quick glance showed an ugly exit wound on the back fo the guardswoman's shoulder. Sera didn't look at it again, just pushed the second pad over the exit wound, then tied both in place with the shorter strips as quickly and tightly as she could. The guardswoman moaned in pain and started to slump to the ground. They couldn't afford for the woman to pass out, Sera slapped her hard across the face."No fainting. On your feet, guardswoman."

The woman was just lucid enough to try and help as Sera and Keeryn hauled her to her feet, but once there she slumped heavily between them. Sera glanced around the top of the hill in time to see the commander of the guardswomen glance in her direction.

"Run, Highness," the woman said grimly, and positioned herself to better shield Sera's retreat. Only three of the other women were still on their feet.

"Can you get this woman down the hill?" Sera asked. Keeryn's mouth thinned but she nodded, slumping under the guardswoman's weight when Sera let go. But she started towards the lip of the hill without protest.

Grimly, Sera turned her attention to the fallen guardswomen. She found only one woman who was still alive, and even as she did, the woman's last breath rattled out of her. Sera cursed.

"I told you to run!" roared the commander, as she realized Sera was on the ground at her feet. Sera glanced back up at her.

"I'll go when you do," she said. The commander's jaw twitched.

"Helena, take the princess down the hill. If she doesn't walk, carry her," she ordered, and one of the guardswomen nodded and turned towards Sera. She dropped as a bullet hit her in the back of the skull. The next bullet took the commander in the thigh. The last two guardswomen cried out and turned towards their leader in shock as the woman staggered. Sera grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her towards the edge of the hill.

Looking over the commander's shoulder, Sera barked, "Get her feet."

After a moment's hesitation, one of the guardswomen stooped down and picked up the commander's legs. The other woman cursed them all, thrashing as she was carried over the edge of the hill. Sera immediately lost her footing as she tripped on her train and she, the commander, and both of the other two guardswomen went tumbling down the steep slope in a tangle of limbs and a burst of swearing.