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Frantic green eyes shifted side to side across the room. "There's gotta be somethin' I can do!"
But what could she do? Charity didn't know. What do you do when the man you promised to protect is bleeding out in your arms, there's no one else around, and there's no exit?
"Charity, eno—" Marceau weakly chastised, pausing and turning away to cough up some more blood. "We're stuck in here. There's nothing you can do."
But she just ignored him. "There has t'be!" Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She propped him up to sit against the wall. "Just keep breathin', okay? I'll get us outta here, I promise!"
And yet it seemed like her promise would ring hollow this time as well.
Charity kicked the door as hard as she could. "GUYS? IT'S CHARITY!" Kick. "ME 'N' MARCEAU'RE STUCK IN HERE!" Kick. "HE'S BLEEDIN' REALLY BAD!" Kick. "LET US OUT!" Kick, kick, kick.
No response. No matter how hard she kicked, how loud she screamed, it was all futile.
Meanwhile, Marceau rolled up his shirt, looking at the large stab wound in his side. There was a concerning amount of blood staining his clothes and the floor. "Damn it."
"Hey, Marceau…you really dunno who stabbed you?" Charity turned back to him.
"No, it was really dark when it happened. I couldn't even make out a silhouette." The prince paused. "Sorry…"
"Ah, nonono! Don't be!" She gave him a comforting smile. "I was just tryin' to—"
"—make it easier for everyone when the trial starts."
The shepherdess's face dropped. They had both come to an understanding that he was going to die in this room. "…you can't die in here."
"It's not like we have anything to stop the bleeding. It's literally gushing out of me, Charity. I'm going to die. Don't be stupid."
"Alright, then I won't let you die! Because I promised you! I promised you the Chevrolet lineage wouldn't die in this rotten game!"
"It won't."
"It wo— Marceau, you basically said yourself that you're gonna die in here!"
"Sure. But the Chevrolet lineage won't."
"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
"It'll live on forever—" Another bloody cough. "—so long as you remember me."
Charity broke down in tears, pulling Marceau back into her arms. "But— But I can't let you die." The beginnings of grief were turning her into a broken record.
"…you did a great job protecting me, Charity."
"Then why do you have a gash in your side!?"
"Because I'm awful. Truly, madly, deeply awful."
Charity sighed. "Don't say that."
"I told you already, didn't I, my lady? That's why you're still the only person I have a connection with in here. It can't be helped. It was always going to be me."
"Let me help you! Please just let me make this right and help you!" The shepherdess begged, leaning in close and holding onto her friend's hands.
"Very well. But the only help I need from you is one last promise." The light was already fading from Marceau's eyes.
Charity frantically nodded, tears freely flowing. "Anythin'! Anythin'." Suddenly, she felt a cold, trembling hand cup her cheek. But before she could react, the prince was kissing her lips in what seemed to be more of an act of comfort than an act of passion.
He collapsed over her shoulder, turning his head to vomit out more blood. The woman in front of him had to resist the urge to look at the mess. She instead pulled him closer and rubbed his back as he went limp in her arms.
"Never—" Cough. "—forget me."
No more breathing. No more heartbeat. The only sound that could be heard from the room was Charity's anguished screaming.
She couldn't even hear the announcement that a body had been discovered over her own pain made auditory.