❝ 𝐀 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧; 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. ❞
*𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯*
An uncomfortable silence overflowed the room as the two mute, powerful figures sat eating their fill, none of them showing signs of provoking a conversation soon. Light streamed inside from the windows and onto the fractured marble floors, its dreary color synchronizing wonderfully with the shadowy and somber colors that the banners and designs around the dining room displayed.
Amid everything was a lengthy table with a red tattered table cloth laid in the middle of the charcoal-colored table; the feeling chilly and miserable against (Y/N) warm skin. Glancing over towards King, (Y/N) promptly looked away, seeing how jubilant he seemed—far too merry for her liking.
Soft clinking of silverware rung infrequently throughout the glorious and antique room, this annoying (Y/N) as the silence suffocated her proved to be too much for her to handle. Peering down at the warm and appetizing lunch that King prepared for both of them (Y/n) couldn't help but feel somewhat... off.
King—while amid what he depicted to be happy and caring silence—noted the sudden halt from his fellow partner, inducing for him to look up at her in worry. Still holding in silence, King examined her features—her actions and body language as best as he could, only to find nothing that would slightly aid in guessing what was hindering his valuable (Y/N).
"(Y/N), why aren't you eating your food? I made your favorite, too—roasted duck." Flinching at hearing his voice, a sudden, unanticipated chill ran down her spine as if icy water was being cascaded down her back. Not trying to look up at him (Y/N) just offered him a shrug.
"Nothings wrong, King; just not hungry anymore." Not contented with her answer, King let go of his knife and set it down tenderly on the table. "If something is wrong, you know you can tell me, don't you? I am your... best friend, after all." Pushing away the frown, King forced a smile on his face.
He didn't enjoy knowing that (Y/N) wouldn't acknowledge the fact that she loved him.
Grimacing at him saying that he was her 'best friend', (Y/n) sighed and stood up, placing the napkin that rested on her lap on the table as she bowed her head politely. "Forgive me, King—but I'm sleepy. I would like to retire for today." Without waiting for a response (Y/N) pushed in her lavish chair and turned away—only for her hand to be seized by another, smaller hand.
"Don't be shy, (Y/N)—you don't have to be so against your honest feelings!" Beaming up at (Y/N), King squeezed her hand in his as he tried to drag her back to her seat only for the stronger pull of (Y/N) to stop him. Turning his head around to look at her, King gave (Y/N) a baffled look.
"What's wrong?" King asked her in a concerned voice, but the thing that should be different here was that instead of King having to be honestly worried about (Y/N), (Y/N) should be concerned about him. (Y/N) didn't catch this earlier on because of both of them being a long way from each other with King sitting across from her and all, but King looked rather sickly.
(Y/N)—now noticing this—has noted that King's familiar peachy and healthy skin looked quite pale; a sickly pale. His eyes were shrunken and seemed to ooze more suffocating affection than (Y/N) had ever witnessed, which was none. King's posture was also more crooked and shaky, with his grip on her hand being far too desperate-feeling for typical circumstances.
King's breathing was also more abnormal, like everything else about his demeanor. His breathing was more shallow and rapid; which (Y/N) saw as something to be concerned about. Tilting his head in bewilderment as (Y/N) didn't answer his question, he went to ask again.
"What's wrong, (Y/N)?"
Suddenly the burning intensity that she got from the 'imagined' sapphire stone that came from her late mother's crown came back to her, but this time more vigorously as her entire hand that gripped King's burned. Yelping in agony (Y/N) jerked her hand from King's grip and stepped back, assessing her hand in panic as no hint of harm or burn surfaced onto her skin.
Though as much as (Y/N) tried to cool her hand with cold water, the pain didn't let up. Startled by her abrupt reaction, King glanced down at his hand, speculating what was on there that could have made (Y/N) react like how she did, only to see nothing.
"(Y/N)? What-"
"Don't talk to me!" Slapping her mouth with her hand, (Y/N) eyes enlarged in shock at the words that rushed out of her mouth, and so did King's. Feeling a sense of dread flow throughout her body (Y/N) gulped, not sure what was transpiring.
"I'm sorry—I... I—got to go!" Twirling around (Y/N) ran down the halls as speedily as she could up the stairs that lead towards her room, neglecting the crying of her name from King. Slamming her childhood nursery room door behind her (Y/N) took a sharp breath and glided down the door, settling on the chill and dusty floorboards of her former room.
The curtains were drawn, dimming the sun's cheerful rays from reaching her skin, allowing her to feel considerably colder than she was. Letting her breath go (Y/N) peered up at the tapestry that was portrayed on the nursery ceiling that sketched a man that she met earlier that was also on a stained glass window who was bowing down to an ethereal-looking woman.
That man was also on her ceiling, beheading the same woman.
Humming indifferently, (Y/N) continued examining the painting as she felt attracted to it; but didn't know how to interpret it. Sure, she felt as if she was in somehow way—some form linked to those two depictions, but didn't know how she would be. Yes, she knew she was the product of intercourse from the king and queen from the fallen Kingdom of Katsuaki, but that didn't mean that man she saw in two pictures was meaningful to her in either blood or prognostication.
"(Y/N)?!"
As soon as (Y/N) picked up her name from King did the crown stored securely on the crib shone the same sapphire red that she witnessed not too long ago.
"(Y/N)?! Open the door!" Bolting up in surprise and tumbling back (Y/N) didn't catch King's presence as he now stood in front of her door; way too close. Sensing the desire to grasp her crown (Y/N) ran over to the crown, only to find it gone.
"By the way, I have your crown! Just assumed you would have preferred me to show you how gorgeous you would look inside the wedding gown I found in the palace basements!" King announced in excitement, a childlike smile plastered tight on his feeble face.
Grating her teeth in unknown anger (Y/N) flung down the crib onto the floor, the crib hurtling down on the floor as the timeworn and delicate wood shattered. "(Y/N), come on out!"
"Why would I come out of my room? I told you I was fatigued!" (Y/N) yelled back at him, the darkness increasing her senses. Hearing this King chuckled, knowing well when his (Y/N) was tired, and he knew she wasn't.
"Oh, come on! Just try on the wedding dress—and then you can go to sleep!" Pressing his ear against the golden doors, King giggled to himself as he continued to hear shuffling. Scowling over at the door, (Y/N) glimpsed down at her hand as it remained to burn.
'How do I get purged of this? Is it linked to that crown? If it is...' Turning back around to look at the secured door, (Y/N) frowned. '... then I need that crown.'
"King?"
"Yes?" Hurriedly responding, King clung to the golden-crafted crown, not catching the glowing diamond. Clearing her throat (Y/N) looked around to find her nightgown only for it to be nowhere in sight. Knowing that King could easily burst inside her room if she stayed in any longer made her decision even starker.
"Fine, I'll come out. Just... give me the crown after." Finally giving in to his desire (Y/N) ran her fingers through her hair in weariness; already not preferring what was going to happen. Once hearing this King hopped up in glee, delighted that he could tread into phase two of his master plan.
"Alright, well come on! I'm getting anxious!" Sighing (Y/N) strolled over towards the door and unlocked it, and just when she did that did King barged in and snatched her hand, pulling her outside and down the hallways headed to his room.
Numerous twists and turns were made as (Y/N) glimpsed down at her hand, which blazed more than ever; though she knew she couldn't let go. She couldn't screw up a second time.
Running inside a room alongside (Y/N), King didn't let go of her hand and continued dragging her around the room until they entered inside a lavish and grandiose changing room. "Here we are! Just step up on that stool there—yes, that one, and put this on. I'll wait just outside!" King directed her as he sealed the door shut, the shadow of his feet noticeable under the small gap beneath the door.
Looking away from the white-colored door (Y/N) criticized the white dress in awe, already identifying who wore it, which made her all the more persuaded to just... try it on. Walking gradually towards the dress (Y/N) pulled it up and marveled at it, reveling in the refreshing feeling that the silk dress gave her.
Putting down the elegant wedding dress (Y/N) untied the ribbon that was around her waist, only to stop midway as she stared at herself in the mirror, perplexed.
"Why am I even doing this?" She asked herself, baffled by her readiness to wear a wedding dress that someone that liked her sought her—wait, no—threatened her to wear. The more she thought about King offering her to wear the dress, the more it seemed questionable. Of course, she trusted King. He was the one who released her from getting embroiled in another war and having to amend day and night about all the blood she spilled—but did he, really?
The dress smelled too much like the Sacred Tree in the Fairy King Forest for (Y/N) to feel complacent. (Y/N) wasn't naïve—she has seen death and treachery in its worst form before; she has experienced everything that sin and bitterness offer, so for something that once belonged to a divine race like hers to detect of something else altogether made her curious.
Peering over to the door (Y/N) sent out a shadow to poke around King's room, for she knew King did something. As much as her mind hoped to overlook it, (Y/N) instincts knew something wasn't right, and that burning in her hand was also a clue, but she just didn't know what was amiss.
Not long after (Y/N) sent out the shadow did it find a miniature bottle. What did that bottle have, you may ask? Well, it had a powder that could only be forged out of an origin from the Sacred Tree itself, and the purpose for the power was—Mind Control.
Glaring right back at the dress, (Y/N) frowned. "Clone Confusion." Once whispering this did a black portal appear before her, wide and silent was it. Nodding at the portal (Y/N) identified an exact figure like herself come out and at her as the clone waited for orders.
"Alright then, I'll wear that wedding dress that King gave me and show it to him!" (Y/N) proclaimed aloud as to ensure that King heard it loud and unmistakable. Nodding at (Y/N), the indistinguishable (Y/N) walked over towards the dress and put it on, and quickly went out.
Turning herself into a water puddle (Y/N) zoomed out of the dressing room and looked over at her clone, only to witness what she had dreaded; the clone's eyes were bleaker.
Seeing that the powder had worked, King ran over towards the fake (Y/N) and wrapped her in a hug, ending their distance with a profound and loving kiss. Grimacing internally at this (Y/N) neglected the feeling of deception and instead swam over towards the crown that was set nicely on a burgundy table. Using her wind magic (Y/N) took it into her custody and fled by the gap that was near the entrance door to King's room, gliding away as quick as she can towards the entrance to the castle as she believed it no longer safe to be near King.
As (Y/N) made her escape, she could hear the ecstatic voice of King cry out—
"Finally, you're all mine!"
(ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!)