Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Dancing With Death

The food lacked nothing but good taste, as it was a bitter type of meat that was almost too thick to chew, but it seemed that everyone on the high-table was enjoying it, although Kylo Ren was yet to even pick up a fork or a smile. 

The music was never subtle either, almost striking me dizzy with the spectacular tunes and beats they played, and yet, it was shortly compared to my heart-strings which shrieked with ill feelings for the girl who sat beside me, slowly sipping on the same wine which I had already deserted from my now, empty glass.

A dull tremor erupted through my system unceasingly when the worries laid like cement back over my bones. I pray that Kylo cannot sense their return from the far-side of the long table or even over the heavy tension of the bubbling atmosphere.

After the way he had handled me and threatened to read my mind, I knew that I had to try and focus on hiding my emotions as discreetly as I kept my secrets from him, and although it sounded hard to do, there was nothing else I could do, for it seems as if this portrayal will become the rest of my hell-like fate. 

A torturous and demanding fate that I had never asked for and yet, I can't even keep the one thing I needed more than anything else, it seems, as Anwar was also tied into this twist of providence, more secretly than I had previously assumed.

As I watch the crowd with an emptier gaze than the men from The First Order, my mind constantly searches for a way out of this whole mess, not just the banquet, but this life. It's cruel the way I had just fallen helpless to the King's condemning, and I wonder what would happen if I ran away, vanished, disappeared, just the same as the real Princess had? 

My heart only caves at the idea. It's a highly unlikely reality, but there is no way I can picture a life out of these high walls, without the result of me taking my own life. 

It is Ruby's voice that brings me out of my daze, whilst she raves about the food to her nameless friend beside her, who looks as if he is already nursing his hangover by chugging the wine in his glass sickly.

I shove my food around with my fork aimlessly as I listen to her boasting, not even sparing a second glance at Kylo Ren at the other end of the table, my future husband. I sigh to my meat, falling back into my mind once again, wondering how this twist of cruel fate was surrounded by him, and yet, none of it was his intended or knowing, fault. 

People below are constantly calling me out, waving a greeting as if we had known each other for years and congratulating me on both my birthday and engagement, and although I am not who they truely think I am, I always give them a distant wave back.

It's an adoring crowd, most definitely a stark difference to the riots of the slums who are supposably trampling the streets. There is no danger or even an inkling to a fight or resistance in this hall, where the privileged eat off of golden plates instead of scrambling for scraps in an orchard. 

Suddenly, the trumpets blare and that's when Ruby nudges me in the ribs and tells me to rush to Kylo and begin the dance. Many react to the trumpets as if it is an alarm, others continue in chatter, but always it speaks to them in some manner as they all move to the walls or their tables, leaving a space in the middle for the couples to begin dancing. A lively tempo lifts the tension as I sit wide eyed at the dancing guests, for Ruby has done nothing to elevate the spirit, or move them to dance like she tried with me, they just chose to begin themselves. 

I glance back to her with a fearful expression, "I can't!" I shriek low to which she pulls me by my shoulder and grits into my face,

"You have to. Now go get him." But just as she tears her gaze to the end of the table, where the raven-haired man sat, she cursed, "Where is he?!"