Her King

02.

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to my dear friend, Makalaougel , for returning to wattpad because I really really missed her and was so happy to see that she revived her account. Love you girl xx

Also shout out to the lovely kiwisontop ,srishtijha1709 ,
BrittanyWellington17 ! For being my motivators and pushing me to fight the writer's block. All the love xx

I'm so sorry for having kept you all so long.

He was the terror that encompasses the halls with great power that brought fear among all. The King marched through the palace halls in great urgency, and his face was what drew the servants trembling in fear. So thunderous was it that they cowered away and lowered their gazes. His jade eyes were dark and his eyebrows pinched and drawn together. Sharp, strong jaw clenched and his lips pursed tightly while his hands were balled into fists. The rich fabric of his robes flared just above the ground with his brisk pace; a black velvet embroidered intricately with rich, golden thread.

His eyes—his eyes held such power, such undeciphered emotions that brought forth fear and the art of terror and strength altogether.

Yet that was for all to see.

For they simply were not her.

Had she spared him a fleeting glance, she would have known that terror was not brought upon, that strength was not utilized for the fear of many.

She would have known that the King walked upon broken pieces of glass; that he wore the robes of pain, that he bore the art of vulnerability.

News had sifted through the air as if it were freshly made bread. The Lady had awoken.

Yet would it roam every halls of the palace that just as the Lady had risen, the tidal of vulnerability and all that it brought with it rose within the heart if the King?

Nay.

For it had been said once and shall be heard again;

they simply were not her.

The lingering fear trailed after him, just like the line of his servants and soldiers whom walked quietly behind him without question. He weaved through the halls, until he entered his wing, that may be called hers as well. His feet halted before the massive doors and just like that, his breath settled and locked deep within his chest.
His hands raise,
they grip the golden handles.

Tightly.
Too tightly.

He hunched before the doors and his forehead pressed lightly against the crack between them. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

It is heavy.
Too heavy.

Yet whatever was he to do? Lest he walked past those doors, he would remain a broken man.

He may also walk out tenfold of what he was before.

Gritting his teeth in great frustration, he opened the doors abruptly.

And oh, what sweet air had wrapped his heart as a lush blanket would.

For there; there she sat upon the enormous mattress, awake and a pure vision of the heavens and all that it held greatly.

His heart's salvation.

His body failed to move as he planned to do so, and his lush mouth was left agape. He failed to breathe and his eyes became dark.