Prince Weston played by Evan Peters 😍
1 MONTH LATER
I sighed, discontent as I used my fork to scoot the food on the plate from one side to the next. Weston sat on the opposite side of me, flipping through a newspaper.
He laughed every now and then. Probably about some tragedy that amused him.
"Your king is a hoot!" He declared with a sick smile.
I gave him a glare before "accidentally" spilling red wine of the insultingly white table cloth. He pretended not to notice my frigid stare as he chuckled.
"I have something special planned today. We're going on a field trip! You might want to eat that food, you're going to be hungry later," he winked with fax playfulness.
I sneered at him before standing with my plate in my hands, then throwing it down violently, causing my untouched food to scatter across the ground of my room.
He snarled and threw himself at me. He tackled me to the floor as I fought to get him off me. He slammed my head against the hard floor causing me to see spots for a second.
Then I jerked my knee up, giving him a good hit to the groin. He groaned in pain, rolling of me. I grabbed my fork from the floor where it had crashed a long with the rest of my meal, then stabbed him hard in the leg.
He cried out in pain as the fork stood up straight in his thigh. I made a run for the door, trying to get it open. I was too late though. Weston was up, tearing the fork from his leg and throwing it across the room in fury.
He started screaming angry, furious words as he came towards me. I gulped down my cry of terror. Then his fist came up, brutally enough to make my head snap and my vision to go black.
3rd person POV
Meanwhile, Laban troops get closer and closer to the palace. In his wake, Maddox has become somewhat ruthless, trying to get Rebecca back. He blames himself, thinking that if he had rejected the princess in a different matter, Rebecca would be safe. He fears the worse. His paranoia has turned him cruel and he talks to no one. Even his father is no exception, who is lying on his death bed. the only thing driving him is the thought of Prince Weston's head on a spike.
"You're highness, we approach the castle," A guard told him. He nodded, then said.
"Let the troops rest. They'll need their energy. They have four hours."
The guard nodded energetically, then took off to deliver the news. Maddox sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Rebecca, please hold on. I'm almost there, my queen."
YOU ARE READING
Rebecca never chose to be the perfect daughter of the Dutch. She was born to the honorable Dutch and Duchess White, of Laban. One of the last monarchies in the world. She never enjoyed wearing those stifling dresses, or going to her mother's fancy...