Page 82 of A Broken Promise

Why was it so quiet?

What happened to the orchestra?

To those singers? To those loud trumpets?

For a second, I thought I was dreaming as the red velvety petals of carnation flowers fell upon me, landing on my body completely covered in dust and rubble. I stretched my hand out as if reaching for the invisible cloud of flowers above me that rained red petals. My arm was surprisingly powdered white, except that large streak of dark red as if paint againstthe canvas.

Blood.

Gods, it was blood?

The sound hit me only a few seconds later. It was a cry of terror. The loud screaming mixed with complete dead silence of the large crowd.

The rubble, broken stones, and shattered windows were everywhere. The dark, thickly clouded sky appeared where the ceiling was only minutes ago.

The realization of what happened snapped me out of my mist immediately. There was no more crowd. No orchestra or artists singing, just limp bodies covered in dust and rubble from the blown-up roof, with survivors wailing around them.

Florian.

Oh gods, Florian.

I shook the debris off my body, getting up on my legs, thanking Fate that nothing was broken.

“Finn?”

My heart dropped as I heard his voice. I stumbled over rubble to him. He laid on the floor still, just inches away from the large broken piece of a column, remnants of it crumbled behind him.

I took a quick glance at him. The shattered glass pieces were embedded in his skin, his face.

“Gods, Florian.” I shoved tears back, though they were still probing their way out.

Not right now.I gritted my teeth. Not now. I shredded the fear away, though my voice still shook just a bit.

“Are you okay?” I cried, pulling the rubble off his body.

“Well, I am pretty sure my leg and arm are broken.” He tried scooting an inch closer but immediately stopped, clenching his jaw from pain. “Add to that a rib or two.”

I lowered to my knees to help him adjust away from the still crumbling ceiling. Once he was secure, I quickly pulled a few pieces of broken glass out of his face.

“Ouch. Finn, I am starting to realize you just love seeing men bleed. Name the time and place and I’ll be down, but so openly inpublic. Good for you for being so open with your kinks.” Florian winced from pain.

I gave him an angry look before yanking on another large shard stuck in his cheek.

“This is not the time nor the place for your stupid jokes Florian,” I said as I pulled one of my daggers out and cut my dress in pieces to wrap his wounds.

“It isalwaystime for stupid jokes, Finn.” He blinked heavily. I flinched as I moved his broken arm into a makeshift sling. Florian’s eyes unwillingly rolled for a second.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me.” I slapped his face. He shuddered from pain but still smirked.

“Gods, if only I knew all it took for you to start ripping your clothes off for me was getting bombed, then I would’ve done it sooner,” he whispered with his eyes still closed shut, taking slow, painful breaths.

I took another look around. The red petals of the carnation flowers, as if blood, covered the whole ballroom floor. People of all kinds were climbing out of the rubble as if dead bodies were rising out of the ground. A few patrons were now up, still shaky and slightly dizzy, they rushed off to cry for help and find their companions, or what was left of their bodies.

Within seconds, new Royal Guards poured in, rows of medics following them.

My head sharply turned to the door several feet away.

“Priya,” I gasped. I made a step towards the door but hesitated.

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