This is it, the last chapter! Definitely – I promise! lol

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PrologueEvelyn's thoughts on the night that Jonathon rejects her.

They always say that it'll be the ones that you love that will cause you the most pain – rubbish! Or at least so I thought, but then I was young and naive. I know better now. There is simply no point in me caring, caring leads to expectations and they lead to pain. A pain so stark; so unbearable, that it makes you feel as though your soul has been torn out and trampled.

I am well aware that that sounds overly dramatic and like something you would expect to find in a players speech, but as I sit here and try desperately to stop the tears that are blinding me and the sobs whose sole intention seems to be to choke me, I can honestly say that I have never felt an agony such as this, not even being wounded by sword or arrow could possibly compare…

I am completely resolved never to care again, it will only give my heart expectations, hopes, and dreams. I've had enough of my hearts desires.

Coronation Day: Evelyn's thought as she enters the Great Hall and takes her seat beside Cynthia.

'I don't care, I don't like him, I don't need him, and I certainly don't love him.' Perhaps if I keep repeating that somewhat monotonous list to myself it will begin to mean something. My heart might actually believe my head and will stop giving these uncomfortable lurches every time I hear his name mentioned or the deep baritone sound of his voice.

Well I'll be dammed if I'm going to hide outside these doors all day! The ordeal went well, or so I'm told. All that remains is for the crown to be placed on his head. Then I can escape from this, my very own personal hell. Seeing him with her everyday and knowing that he adores / worships / loves every bit of her. I'm going back to Maren; I've been given a proposal of marriage, to the Crown Prince no less! It makes no difference to me though; he might as well be a beggar. He'll never be the man I love…

Enough of this procrastinating, with my head held high I put on my very best performance. Mithros the priestesses would be proud of me! I can glide when the occasion calls for it, and it is simple processes such as gliding, (that have been drilled into since I was a child) that are going to save me. They will get me through today. So with my best foot forward, (literally, if I start on my right foot I always trip!) I entered that great hall; no one could hear my wildly pounding heart and I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead. Never looking left nor right, I wasn't going to let him know how badly he'd hurt me. After all, once today is over I'll never see him again…

That last arrow.

It came from nowhere! I watched as Liam gave his life for Jon. Desperately tried to grab another arrow from the pile on the floor and fit it to my bow. But I am no Lioness or Princess Thayet, my hands were trembling like leaves on an autumn morning and fear had settled over me like the thickest of blankets.

As cliché as it sounds it did all happen in slow motion to me. I saw the traitor fit the arrow to his bow and fire. Sir Raoul fell down injured, and therefore was in no position to assist the new King. I was the only one that could help. There didn't seem to be any decision to make, Jonathon's life or mine? No, no decision at all…

I was wrong the other day when I said no pain could compare to that of a broken heart. The pain of an arrow in the chest, of the sudden certainty that you are going to die, comes pretty dam close. Cynthia was by my side at the end, she'll never know the comfort she provided me with, I didn't have the breath to tell her.

The physical pained numbed after a while, Cynthia keep telling me to hold on, that help was coming, but her voice seemed to be coming from miles away. I couldn't stop the tears from leaking out, I knew I was dying. There was so much I had wanted to do with my life! Dreams I'd had, dreams that were scattered around me like shards of broken glass… I did try to fight, but breathing was such a struggle and my eyes were so heavy. And as I closed my eyes for one last time a hope I didn't even realise I'd been clinging to exploded – Jonathon really didn't care, I was never going to see his face again. Never going to say goodbye….

Evelyn didn't last long enough to see Jonathon. Never felt his arms around her in one last embrace, didn't see him cry for her. Never knew that he simply hadn't seen her lying amongst the fallen…

THE END

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Well this is really it. I definitely won't be extending this 'one-shot' any further! I was just looking over some of the stories I'd written and noticed that I'd said I was going to write Evelyn's POW…Besides I thought it would help people understand what kind of person she had been, rather then just a body lying on the cold floor.