His Queen

30.

A/N: Hi! This is the last chapter guys! Are you ready? This is going to be the longest chapter with 7000+ words. Have fun reading and all the love!

Song for the chapter: Infinity by One Direction

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Her heart bleeds as she lays there, fighting for their love; one foot nestled in the grave.

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Run.

His feet darted through the wide bewildering halls with the speed of lightning for he knew.

He knew that he betrayed the King's trust.
For he was unable to keep the King's mistress from harm.

His feet led him hurriedly towards the King's study with his hands slick with sweat for he was certain that this might break his friend's trust in him. Yet hesitation was ignored blatantly for he was certain that if he be punished, he would take it gladly for it is because of him that Lady Hunter's life is in danger.

Why must he be so rash to let her out of his sight?

Upon coming towards the grand doors of the King's study, the Royal Guards halted him to a stop even before his hands could touch the ornate handles. They spoke respectfully; "The King is not in his study, My Lord."

Taking a deep breath of frustration, he replies frantically. "Do you know of his whereabouts?" to which they responded, "We know not, My Lord."

Frustration and panic now gripped him tighter;

choking him.
Bruising him.

He halts deftly as he reaches the King's chambers, yet as he was about to make his presence known the Royal Guards that guard the chambers of the King placed their bodies upfront blocking the doors effectively. One of them spoke, "My Lord, the King requests not to be disturbed-"

"Fucking let me in, this matter is urgent." he warns, eyes a cold brown; threatening.

Yet the guards stood stoically-unmoving.

He growls at this, wielding his sword from it's sheath as he points it towards the throat of the Royal Guard. With unmounting malice, he barked, "This is an urgent matter concerning the King's mistress. Move not and I shall fucking behead all of you."

With that, they move back unto their posts, heads bowing in respect. He pays no time to such, hurriedly grasping the ornate handles and wrenching the door open to be greeted with such surprise.

For the Royal Chamber was destructed.

Wood broken, glass shattered, linens ripped, the ornate furniture turned upside down and broken in a manner of beastly rage.

Beneath all evidence of rancor and upon the sheathing dark there sat a King of torn heart, wallowing in his own tempest and pain.

For how was he to survive a life built with lies made of gold?

Shattered necks of bottles littered around him as he sat with a heart kaput, a life toyed. The enormous chamber sheds only few burning candles; providing such minimal glow upon the night that one should squint in order to see a glimpse. Bottles and bottles of expensive liquor drowned and clouded his soul, yet it done nothing to numb the pain that he felt.

His mother . . . killed brutally in front of him.
For how dare he forget about the woman who loved him with all she had?

"How," he punches the skin with force where his heart lies beneath his flesh with each cry.