King Henry

I lay awake in my bed on top of the covers as the sun rises outside my window, my hand over my heart feeling it beat to a steady rhythm.

Though I got my sister and Serena back and they are safe inside the castle now and their captors have all met their ends, I did not get even a little bit of sleep last night.

How was I supposed to sleep when I am able to hear Victoria scream in her bedroom all night in her room just beyond my wall.

Clarke spent the better half of his evening cleaning her wounds and helping her to start the healing process. I stayed with them for a while to help but Victoria was inconsolable when she wasn't unconscious from the pain her body is experiencing. I thought giving her a little bit of space would be good for her.

And for me. Listening to her beg for Clarke to take his gun and shoot her in the head was painful for me. She cried, trying to convince him that death would be easier on her than the pain she feels right now.

I have never seen her like this before.

Victoria has always been the stronger of the two of us. Both mentally and physically.

When my mother was declared dead, Victoria's moral took a huge hit but she never stopped for a moment to grieve. She continued on with her passions, even with the knowledge that she will never see her mother again. It was not that she did not care about our mother. She just always had the mental ability to be able to suppress the grief to continue living her life rather than to let it consume her.

Mentally, she is more fit than me in every way.

My mother's disappearance hit me hard. I was the heir. She was teaching me everything I needed to know to take her place some day and then she was just gone. Then I had strangers teaching me the job they never had to do before. Not only did a lose my only teacher, I lost my mother too. People seem to forget that.

I swear Victoria would be better fit for this job than I am. She can hold her own in a verbal argument and in a fist fight. I have seen that tiny girl charge a racing horse with no fear and manage to pull herself up on its back and ride it.

She is fearless, brave, and powerful. She can do anything.

Except now. She has never shown weakness before. Seeing her like this is so strange to me. It is foreign. The person who cried all night was broken and damaged. I never thought those words could be used to describe my sister.

The thought never crossed my mind that she could ever be broken and damaged.

Trauma does not simply stop just because you have been rescued. She has a long road ahead of her.

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