Forced Love

Chapter 33

“Jesus Elizabeth! Stop being a bitch and let the damned maid lace up your dress!” Drake yelled irritably.

I whimpered when the maid in question once again tried to tighten my corset.

A couple minutes after Drake had stormed out of the room yesterday a dressmaker had warily entered the room. The ancient, hunchbacked woman refused to make eye contact while she roughly took my measurements. Ever since Gwendlyn all of the servants refused to acknowledge my existence. They believed I was the one responsible for poor Gwendylyn’s death and were frightened to be in contact with me. I had learned from previous experiences to not even try to make small talk.

               The dressmaker had eventually left the room muttering to herself, leaving me to my depressing thoughts. I couldn’t stop thinking about my family and a certain light haired prince.

I pulled away from the old maid’s grabby hands after a pain filled yank on the strings.

“No stop! That’s enough. I-I can’t bare anymore!” I choked out

My wounds on my back had barely begun to heal. Most hadn’t even scabbed and the only thing between the open slashes and the tight corset was a couple pieces of cloth. The feeling was almost as bad as receiving the whips in the first place.

The woman once again tried to grab for me and brushed against one of the wounds. Angry and hurt I shoved the woman away. I felt a little guilty when she stumbled into the table.

“I said stop! It hurts!”

Drake stormed over with an angry look on his face. “I don’t care if it hurts! Those laces will be tightened now!”

I backed away from him as he came towards me hands up. “Drake please! The dress is tight enough, any more and i won’t be able to move.”

He just grunted as he snatched my shoulders and roughly turned me around. “I will not have my wife, the queen of this kingdom, looking unkept and fat!’ he growled.

He harshly pulled the strings and I doubled over in pain. I sobbed as he finished tying it rubbing the wounds terribly.

“There that’s better.” Drake murmured as he pulled me over to the full length mirror. I looked up and took in our appearances. He was dressed in one of his best kingly attires. A long sword sat in its sheath apon his hip and his outfit was decked out in jewels. A huge gold crown sat on the top of his smiling head.

I was dressed in the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. I had to admit the old dressmaker had a talent. Too bad the bruises on my body took away from the beauty of the dress. Black, blue, brown, and yellow splotches covered my arms, neck, and face. Together we looked…well, dysfunctional. Anyone with a brain could figure out what was going on behind closed doors.

Knowing Drake he wouldn’t care.

“I want you on your best behavior my love.”