Y/N is just a normal, peasant girl, so how did she end up in this place, serving under the King's cruel command? Well, it's simple, really. She just wants her family to be safe even if it means putting up with his insane personality, but how long wi...
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How long have I been here in this castle, in this room, constantly pinned down by reminders of threats over the most minuscule disobedience? I feel so trapped. I cannot go anywhere as punishment for my alleged escape plan with Angora, though I doubt his majesty would've allowed me to roam freely in the first place. He even had bars installed on all the windows, which only added to the reality of the gilded cage. If I were to go anywhere, he would probably end up escorting me.
In that case, I would rather stay cooped up in this room. At least, then, I'd be away from him. Unfortunately, Weston was also not brought to me for comfort anymore either— Another part of this punishment, I assume, which was disheartening. All I can do is lie in wait for the dreaded wedding with the mad king as my only company. He would visit at least three times every day and would make me sick with talks of marriage-related things from the flower bouquets, to the music and gown.
I always answered him with the same response when he asked my opinion of these things, "Do whatever you want." In my mind, however, I responded much differently with things along the lines of, 'I hope you choke on our wedding cake or that someone poisons your wine', along with numerous comments of how I want nothing to do with him or this wedding. I dare not speak such things aloud anymore in fear of him pulling through with that unsavory threat of violating me or killing another person. I don't want to chance it. I am still mourning my poor friend, even though she had made a foolish mistake against my will. I am not searching for more suffering.
I don't bother getting up or looking over when the door creaks open, already aware of who had entered. There's no point in tearing my gaze away from the ceiling. I'd rather not look at him anyways. A disappointed sigh reaches my ears once the footsteps stop at the side of the bed.
"You haven't eaten." His voice, though soft, came out low, like it was on the brink of anger. I didn't care. Yeah, I didn't eat. I've felt sick to my stomach and completely lost my appetite for the past few days. The only times I've forced myself to eat was whenever the King was watching over me to ensure that I did. I say nothing; I do nothing, so he moves to the side of the bed to be in my line of sight. At first there was a glare but then it quickly faded with defeat.
"Honestly, I feel like I'm the one waiting on you hand and foot nowadays." He shakes his head at his own mutterings. He had a point. He was constantly bringing me these meals and waiting for me to eat them. I've even woken to a bath or two being made in my bathroom. Though, that was done by maids, he was there to supervise, and he would always follow it with some comment about me being practically sewn into the bed with neglect. If he never intervened, I'd probably never leave this bed. I don't care. I haven't the slightest clue why he'd act as such anyways. Perhaps it's his way of apologizing? Nearly, I scoff. As if I'd accept an apology of his. "Anyways, get out of bed. I'd like you to follow me." Rolling my neck, I stare at him in suspicion.
