A Kingdom Of Pain And Passion→ ORIGINAL!!!

Chapter 2

"Dahlia, sit up. A lady does not have poor posture."

I forced myself to sit up straighter at the sound of Father's voice, as if a rod of iron were dropped down my spine. My hands were folded in my lap, brushing against the ruffles of my day dress. If chosen the most childish print I owned a mixture of pink and purple colored fabric sewn in such a manner that it looked haphazard. The sleeves were capped with a fine lace, and the hemline fell just above my ankles. My maids would never see something so freeing  so I had to take up the needle myself.

And what I found most important, my father hated it.

"He's late," I said to no one in particular, just feeling like I wanted to point it out. I glanced at the curtains that were covering the windows trying to block out as much light as possible. "Punctuality is becoming is it not.?"

"He's a Prince," Father said with a deep voice, a tone suggesting that my ramblings were just that. He didn't even look my way, which was unsurprisingly. He didn't look at me often, only to scold and chastise. "Punctuality isn't his priority."

I kicked my feet against the edge of the throne, the chair so high that my heels just barely grazed the ground. "Perhaps but when appearing in front of a king would've suggest punctuality."

" Enough Dahlia. " his voice was a loaded gun. "Wipe that look off your face."

There was a seed of anger that was sprouting in my stomach, and try as I might to squash it, to cover it up, the stem still poked through. "What look?"

A muscle in his thick jawline twitched as he fought for his composure. But the look on his eye was what scared me it was a dark sort of twisted look that he reserved for me. His affection for me was merely superficial. I provided the kingdom security, and that was what the kept me around.

If he had had a son, I was certain if have been casted to the servant quarters.

"I suggest you watch your tongue as well if you have another outburst in Prince Rainier's  presence, I won't hesitate to make sure your garden privileges are provoked."

Fathers eyes were dark, cold, and soulless. Looking into eyes like his eyes never made me question what his spirit was like. I was sure that it darker than any magic welders combined, before they were killed.

"Yes father." The king said

I swallowed hard, "Yes, Father"

He turned away, putting his eyes back on the door.

As I sat on the throne, I wondered, not for the first time, how long I'd survive if unsent out on my own. How long would I last? How long would it be  before Father hunted me down and three me to the prince.

I always decided it wasn't worth my trouble.
I'd be in hotter waters of I attempted it.

The doors on the other end of the room opened to expose a squat man in tight pants.Sweaty was the best way to describe him, and jumpy. "King Bardhyl" he bowed deeply, face nearly parallel with the marble. "Princess Dahlia. Prince Rainier of Ravaryn."

The King sat up straighter in his throne, puffing out his chest to appear larger. Which wasn't hard he was a man who sat back and watched battles the battles play out rather than join in.

"Yes. Your Majesty."

I knitted my fingers together, feeling my nails bite in bite into my flesh.

Prince Rainier has been visiting the Palace ever since I was ten years of age. He'd been invited, him along with several other princes from affluent kingdoms, but he was by far my father's favorite, though I never understood why. But when Prince Rainier had told father of his interest in me, Father had been overjoyed.

Me?well, i think me escaping into Khisfire every time I was told he'd be visiting was answer enough.

Though the Prince wasn't directly unkind, there was something about him that left me unsettled. But Prince Rainier was twenty two years old, third in line for his throne and had to turn his sights elsewhere for the crown. And me, a seventeen year old heiress of one, was the perfect pairing.