The perfect envision of the man you married had been shattered. There he was, Arthur Lancelot, sat on your throne with a grin on his face. A sword pierced through your heart as your blood soaked the red carpet. Before you slipped away you prayed to the gods, prayed you could right the wrong.

The soft sound of songbirds could be faintly heard. As sudden as it was you jolted awake. Glancing around your chambers, until you heard that sickening voice.

“My dear, you’re awake.” Arthur hummed.