I saw the Queen be struck by 3 arrows. Two at her back, the third on her shoulder as she pushed a little boy through the thick fence-like bushes that she hope is enough to protect him. She reached for his little hands and took the precious ring from her index finger, into the closed fist of the child. She kept gritting her teeth while she try to pluck the arrow from her shoulder. Suddenly, I heard footsteps from the left but knew that it was too late – for the loveliest woman on the palace had slumped into the earth, motionless as if asleep.

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