𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟔

"Good."

 He looks around, staring longer than I'd like at Pandora's brother, who's too busy discussing something with fellow nobles to notice how his fiancée is eye fucking her King. I fiddle with my fingers when a group of gorgeous women approach me, probably hoping to gain my title's favour. Their faces are gawk worthy, but I'm far too preoccupied with the way in which his Highness, no, Ciaran, takes a sip of Liam's champagne. Licking his lips when he suddenly turns his head to the large golden doors, at the entrance of the hall. The humongous statue keeping me from seeing what it is his eyes search for so frantically.

"They've arrived," Eliza says, the tone in her voice diminished to a softness I've never heard her speak with before. I'm not stupid to not know who it is that she's talking about with that face. It's same face I make when he's there. 

The air around us cools down to a shuddering chill when Liam's glass freezes mid air in Ciaran's hand, his head tilting towards her, who seems blissfully unaware of it as she's been pulled into a conversation by Damien. His eyebrows furrow, and I swear to have seen his eyes gain that same innocent yet dangerous look, the one that foresees that Eliza's corpse will soon be thrown around in patches of meat and bones, before he vanishes from next to me.

"Where has he gone?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Liam asks sarcastically, the worry not passing by me while he glares at Ciaran as he creeps up from behind Pandora, who's still oblivious to his presence. 

Her dark hair is pinned together in a simple style that allows the thick curls to fall over her back, her curves enhanced by the tight dress she decided to wear. Almost every other woman here wears a corset tightly to make their hips as narrow as possible, yet she wears every imperfection of her body with pride. 

I would have felt attracted to her, wasn't I a sucker for a male already. It speaks for itself that she gains the attention of the men surrounding her like a magnet, and with her strong personality, and the cute facial expressions that make her look like a bunny - she's a jewel of the rarest kind.

I just wished he wouldn't be so drawn to her, like a moth flying towards a flame regardless of whether or not its wings will burn to dust were it to come too close. He doesn't even care that it's clear as day that his eyes are captivated with her long locks, his finger shamelessly reaching for her and picking some strands up. 

Stroking them as if they were made of the finest cashmere. Unable to witness any more of it, I stop a waiter to grab another glass of champagne, the liquid having the same bland taste of water as I swallow it with no second thoughts.

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to be in her shoes. Catching the King's eyes, how many survived that?" Eliza interrupts my thoughts, making all of us nod when the images of the many piles of bodies we had to carry out of his room appear in our minds.

People who he had taken interest in, for any reason at all. I remember the woman, many years ago, who was born with a third eye, having the ability to turn people into stone at one glance. I mustn't have been older than sixteen sun years when I came across her in the hallway, a blindfold ties around her forehead, keeping the third eye from opening. She looked so proud, so content of being at the Royal Court, and personally called into his chambers. 

Little did she know that when the King calls you into his chambers, the only way you get out, is dead. Days passed by, and new statues would be settled in the hallways, posing differently each time. He killed her when she called him by his first name, weeks later. Only recently, did his new 'toy' succumb to his monstrous ways. Dameon reassured me that he never slept with any of them, since none could survive his poison.