𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Coward

"Ok, ok. Let me go." I pushed him away, making a break for the door.

"Rose."

"Yeah?" I turned.

"Breakfast before interrogations." he said, smiling.

I returned his smile, before exiting the room, nearly colliding with Anthony in the hallway. He looked at me for a moment before looking to the King's door, and then back at me, as a smile slowly crept its way onto his face.

"Don't-"

"Were you in the King's room?! Did you spend the night?! Did you have sex?!" he spewed.

"No! Well yes to the first and second, but certainly not to the last." I dismissed the questions, "Do not bring this up again. Ever."

"But wait, you have to tell me-"

"No." I said firmly, retreating down the hallway.

Anthony let out an exasperated sigh, following me.

"Would you tell me where they're keeping Christian?" I asked him.

"If you would tell me what's going on between you and the King." Anthony smirked.

"Fine." I spat, pulling him aside and lowering my voice, "Do not make this into a big deal. And don't tell anybody... I proposed to the King. We're engaged."

"You're... You're... You're..." Anthony sounded like a broken record on a loop as he struggled to wrap his head around what I'd just said.

"Engaged, yes." I nodded, failing to suppress a smile.

"Rosalie that's - my God... That's amazing! There's so much to plan!"

"Don't get too excited just yet. I don't want word of it getting out for a while. I would never want to take attention away from Trinity and Samuel." I placed a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

"Right, yes I understand." Anthony nodded, hiding his smile, "You're going to be Queen!"

"I... Suppose."

"What's the matter?" He tilted his head.

"Nothing in particular I suppose I never really gave it much thought, is all." I shrugged.

"You mean to say you proposed to the King, completely unaware of the fact that it would make you Queen?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"It was a mere afterthought, Anthony, I-I love him, and I want to marry him, no matter what titles it earns me." I stated firmly.

"Aww, Rose that's so sweet," Anthony gushed.

"Stop." I droned, heading back down the hall, "Now. Where is Christain?"

"Christain?"

"The kidnapper?"

"Yes. God, Rose I know the name of the man that kidnapped you. It's just - Why do you want to know where he is?" Anthony said, wide-eyed.

"Well to interrogate him, of course."

"You're-" Anthony paused, taking in a deep breath, "There's no talking you out of it, is there?"

"No."

"Then come with me." he rolled his eyes, guiding me to the prison.

It was strange. Entering the prison I'd been in so long ago, when I'd been arrested. The walls that I so loathed each and every day. Memories of my time there flooded back to me. Of the first time I'd met George. When Christain had nearly killed me. When George saved me. I'd had absolutely no idea what lied before me when I sat, a prisoner of these walls, the length of which I now walked, a free woman. At last, we reached a solitary cell at the very end of the hall, in which sat a very miserable looking man, the one who'd caused so much pain and suffrage in my life.

"Christain." I spat.

"Rosalie?" he looked shocked for a moment, before a smirk slowly stretched across his face, "Oh, and I so hoped I'd killed you this time. Well, third time's the charm, I suppose."

"Bastard!" Anthony shouted, pounding against the iron bars with enough force to wipe the grin off of Christain's face.

"Anthony." I raised my hand to calm him down, before, turning  back to Christain, "Where is Jerome?"

"Tch. You really think I'd out him? I'm going to die anyway, why turn my friend in too?" Christain continued to speak confidently, though still wary of Anthony.

"You will answer my questions or face the consequences, which, to you will be... Undesirable, to say the least." I drew my pocket knife, "Isn't that what you said, all that time ago? Answer my questions, or you will have a taste of this blade."

"You remember what I said?" he chuckled.

"You think that's funny? You're proud of yourself? Well, let me tell you something. That night; it's haunted me nearly every day of my life, the pain  - the excruciating, ceaseless pain. It's never left me. And do you want to know something? As horrible as that is for me, it's worse for you. Because you can be sure that with every fibre of my fucking being, I will make it infinitely more scarring - more excruciating and unbearable- for you." I said, my voice unwavering, and phlegmatic.

"You don't scare me, Rosalie Alcott. You're nothing but an orphan soldier, pitied by everyone around her. The King's slut. You think he cares for you? You think you mean something to him - to anyone? The reality is, you're the King's toy, and everyone treats you kindly so as to not be beheaded." he shook his head, "You're less than scum, Rosalie."

I held my arm out, restraining Anthony. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes. He was wrong.

"I belong here. This is my home - my family- and I will protect them." I folded my arms, "Where is Jerome?"

"Look, there's no point in continuing. I won't tell you. And I know you, Rose. You won't use violence to get information. You'll tell yourself its wrong, but really? You're too scared. You're nothing but a lowly coward."

"Don't act as though you know me." I lowered my voice threateningly, pausing for a moment, before spinning on my heel and heading back down the hall, "You don't know me."

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