VENGEANCE

Rabbit

Upon reaching the forest, Thompson pulls out the spray can and begins painting a mark between two branches on a tree trunk.

Curiosity gets the better of me. "What are you doing?" I inquire.

He gives me a knowing look and raises an eyebrow, as if asking, "Aren't your eyes working?"

I roll my eyes, slightly exasperated. "Clearly, you're spray-painting trees."

He doesn't respond verbally, simply continuing down the forest path. He stops at the third tree, prompting me to catch up.

"Your knack for stating the obvious is quite impressive," he remarks, a smirk tugging at his lips. His raised eyebrow speaks volumes, questioning my point.

"I'm asking why you're doing it," I retort, trailing him while still adjusting to using the stick as a crutch.

Thompson takes a moment to educate me as he moves efficiently from tree to tree. "This is an ancient method our soldiers used to track and locate one another in forests during times of war."

I can't help but voice my concerns. "Wouldn't this also guide our enemies to us? And is the paint harmful to the trees?"

Amusement dances in his eyes as he responds, "You're quite the curious one. The paint is biodegradable, made from leaves and natural materials. I'm also not painting it in an obvious manner. Unless someone knows exactly what to look for, they won't spot it."

While I consider sharing my suspicion about an insider orchestrating the attack and possibly knowing this method, I decide to remain silent and move ahead, keeping my thoughts to myself.

***

After two hours of wandering through the forest, Thompson decides it's time to rest, settling on a large log. He attempts to use his phone to find a signal, though the odds seem slim in the depths of the woods.

I glance around our surroundings, a bit uneasy about potential animal attacks. Wearing an expensive dress only adds to my concern.

"Quit looking around so much," he chides, placing his phone on the log and directing his gaze at me. "You might want to cover that," he indicates the injury on my head.

"Do you have a handkerchief?" He produces one from his blazer, which he had taken off earlier. I take it from him and tie it around my head. He starts making a popping sound with his lips, initially ignorable, but it soon becomes unbearable.

"Could you please stop?" I snap in annoyance.

He responds with an air of arrogance, "No, you can't dictate my actions. In fact, I'm your mas-"

"Enough with that nonsense. You're nothing more than a spoiled brat to me," I interject.

"Is that so?" He forcefully yanks the handkerchief from my head, causing me to yelp as it presses onto my wound, a trickle of blood following.

I cradle my wound, struggling to hold back tears as the stinging sensation intensifies. Looking at him with regained composure, I observe him casually swiping through his phone as if nothing happened. His indifference to inflicting pain on another strikes me as outright malicious.

Resting my head on my arms, which are folded on my lap, I let my mind wander to places it shouldn't. If only I hadn't been kidnapped, if my mother hadn't been murdered, if I had lived a regular life away from royalty, I wouldn't be trapped in this predicament with an insufferable foreign nuisance.

As my thoughts drift, exhaustion takes over, and I slip into an uncomfortable slumber.

***

I wake to the sight of Thompson, who's busily handling a can of vegetable soup with his back to me, oblivious to my awakening.

"Why do you insist on complicating my life? I don't have any fondness for you as a person, yet I'm coerced into marrying you and enduring your company. The worst part is, I have no say in the matter. Despite all this, you can't even extend me basic respect. Calling me a spoiled brat, who granted you the audacity to make such judgments?" He tosses the empty can into the forest. "You're not even exceptionally beautiful. Sure, you might have captivating brown eyes, well-defined brows, and a fit physique, but you're far from extraordinary-"

"Respect is earned through mutual consideration," I finally shift my posture. His eyes widen as he turns to me, startled. "And your father, not I, is the source of your difficulties. I didn't request to marry you, nor did I volunteer for abduction and indefinite confinement in a foreign realm." I hold his gaze firmly.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to recognize your profound dislike for me," I respond plainly. "What's the time?" I note the orange and purple hues in the sky.

"6:48 pm," he informs after checking his phone.

I pull the bag closer and rummage through it, revealing canned goods, a small gun, a firework, energy food packs, water bottles, a matchbox, a small pot, a spoon, and a knife. It's evident they packed essentials.

Seeing a pair of flip-flops, I slip them on, discarding my heels into the bag. I had been navigating the forest barefoot.

Suddenly, Thompson seizes the small gun from his pocket and dashes into the woods. While I consider asking about it, I'm also apathetic, so I proceed to tear open an energy bar.

Upon his return, he holds a sizable rabbit by the ears and drops it beside me. I shift away instinctively.

"Are you truly scared of a deceased bunny?" He chuckles, gripping the knife from the bag.

While taken aback, I muster no response. He gathers firewood from nearby trees, igniting a fire before fashioning a stand to roast the rabbit's skin.

He then proceeds to gut and clean the rabbit, his actions leaving me stunned and speechless.

"Are you planning to assist or remain seated like a princess?" he quips as he decapitates the rabbit. "Pour water over it and help me clean it."

I comply without protest, pouring water over his hands as he cleans. He then dissects the rabbit into smaller portions, placing them in a pot alongside two cans of vegetable soup from our supplies. Placing the pot on the fire, he resumes his culinary work.

I offer water for him to wash his hands. "Where did you learn all of this?"

"My aunt's husband is an avid hunter. Once a month, he, his son, and I would venture out to hunt for food, barbecuing our catches in the forest and camping overnight," he explains.

Impressed, I exclaim, "Oh, I must admit, I'm impressed."

"Hmm," he grunts, tidying up after the process. "Stay here." He collects the empty bottles and departs.

I remain silent, sensing his lingering embarrassment from our earlier exchange.

***
Bless you 💕

Sorry about the slow updates, University has been real hectic so getting inspiration then time to write is not as easy but I'm trying to update more frequently

Hi to all my silent readers