Y/N is just a normal, peasant girl, so how did she end up in this place, serving under the King's cruel command? Well, it's simple, really. She just wants her family to be safe even if it means putting up with his insane personality, but how long wi...
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Breakfast was short and silent. I hardly ate a thing, yet forced down a bite or two just to hold me off. Can't say I've worked up an appetite after witnessing brutal murder. It didn't matter how loud my stomach gurgled or how bad it'd ache staring at the selection of delicious food. My mind was tainted, the scent of blood staining my nostrils and making my skin crawl. My company ate, unfazed by the carnage he had committed and acting as though I weren't even there in the room. He did not even glance over to me once as he read his paper. I suppose that is one thing I should be grateful for. Afterwards, we are escorted by two guards outside to the palace's front steps, where we are graced by the presence of more guards mounted on horseback along with two gentlemen in assassin uniforms. Looking upon them struck a pang in my heart, and when they saw me from the corners of their eyes, I swore I saw a look of pity and guilt as they quickly faced forward again. My two bites of food wished to come back out.
'I'm sorry this happened to you, Alton. It was all my fault.' I had to bite the inside of my cheek to choke back a sob. Last thing I need right now is to grab Noah's attention. A white carriage comes around accented in gold with windows covered by white lace and ivory drapes to hide the, no doubt exquisite, interior.
It is pulled by beautiful, blonde horses wearing black blinders embroidered gold with a simplified version of the royal family crest: a lion standing on its hind paws fitted with sharp claws, teeth bared and a crown above the head. I haven't the slightest idea of where we're going, and I don't think I'm ready to find out either. For all I know, he's taking me to a public execution. Just the thought of seeing anymore bloodshed nearly made me vomit then and there, but I swallow it down and keep moving towards the coach as the door is opened by a man in white uniform. The King looks at me expectantly, and I take a deep breath before entering the carriage, graciously accepting the help of the young servant who opened the door.
His majesty follows close after, and I find myself trapped in this luxury box with velvet, navy, padded seats suited for a long ride with minimal aches from bumpy roads. I wonder if the place he is taking me is far away? I don't know whether to dread it more or less now. I had expected his highness to sit across from me, but instead, he takes his place at my side, probably to ensure that I do not make a break for the door. We sit in uncomfortable silence for only a moment before a certain lion joins after us, all clean and brushed, like he had just been groomed. I hope the new groomer didn't have a tough time with him. Weston didn't argue with his handler after seeing both me and his master and went in, making himself comfortable on the floor, as though he had been through this before. I wonder how often he is taken on trips and where to.
