𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I sit perched on the edge of a watchtower—alone and out of sight of everyone. It's one of my favourite places in the castle, considering I have a view of nearly every outdoor sector of the courtyards. Although I can see plenty from my balcony, the sunsets up here are incomparable to anything.

Rose gold, honey dipped skies with violet clouds and a turquoise wavy sea.

With my bow and quiver over my shoulder, I analyze the activities of King Leighton from a distance. He must view me as this submissive naive girl, but he'll soon learn that I'm his deadliest nightmare come to life.

Tobin is right about me. I am a weapon, and I will destroy this man and his regime. The day he sees me walk down that aisle, he'll regret choosing me to be his wife. Every morning he awakens, I'll unleash hell.

He will learn that I will never submit. Never bind. Never bend over for his will.

I am not an angel to him, but a sword pierced into him that he cannot retract.

Right now, King Leighton prepares to enter the castle hot springs. It's a cool evening, and I don't blame him for taking advantage of the steaming waters. Except, no one in the right mind would want to peep on that man.

Leighton enters into the completely private area—dismissing the servants that attempt to aid him. He disrobes from his royal clothes, setting them behind him in a neatly folded pile along with a towel, and then enters the water butt-ass naked.

It would be so easy to spear an arrow into his back, killing him in one blow, but that would only make a permanent enemy out of Adorid. It wouldn't solve the war we fear most. Leighton is their king, after all, and he must have some sort of loyal following.

Leighton leans against the back edge of the stones lining the hotspring, his entire body submerged in the steam. He faces the entryway—not behind him where his clothes and towel lay. It's almost too easy, too perfect.

A grin crosses my lips. Usually I mess with Lorcan, but getting a reaction out of Leighton will be much more satisfying.

I descend the watchtower and make my way towards the secluded hot springs. It's a serene area—with vines spanning the walls and white orchids in bloom. My mother designed it when she discovered that there was a natural hot spring on castle property. In fact, she was offended my father hadn't utilized the space prior to their marriage.

The vines, however, allow for easy access into the area. The gardeners were supposed to keep them trim to avoid peeping-toms and trespassers (like myself), but it's gotten a little out of hand since my mother's death years ago. The white orchids? My mother's favourite flower. They bloom everywhere in the castle gardens.

I climb down an ivy-coated wall, my movements slow so I don't rustle the leaves and disturb Leighton's peaceful dip in the waters. Not that I care, but I need him to be full of zen and serenity, his mind absorbed in another realm. For a man so brute, it's almost humorous seeing him so relaxed in the waters humming some god-awful tune in his tone deaf voice.

I tiptoe up behind him to where his towel and clothes lay. I want to pierce his throat with an arrow. It would be so easy, so swift.

But they'd all know it would be me. Who else in this kingdom is clever enough to sneak these walls with such finesse, then snipe a man down with an arrow?

Without inhibiting a sound, I take everything. His robes. His undergarments. His towel. I leave his boots, considering I can't just throw them easily over my shoulder. A laugh nearly escapes me at the mere image of this cruel king running around the castle corridors in rage, wearing nothing but boots.