The next few hours had been cold and the smell of mold seemed to get more intense by the minute. Viola had no tears left. Her eyes stung, her cheeks were sticky and her eyelids felt heavy.
Her eyes had long adjusted to the darkness of the dungeons. She'd been locked up with most of the female servants.
The head maid, Joan, an elderly lady with a heart of gold and the ability to lead, had been calming down the other maids. She noticed Viola's silence and got up to sit with her. She gently stroked a strand of hair out of her face, giving her a reassuring look. "You have to be strong now, princess." She whispered mustering up a smile that made the sides of her eyes wrinkle.
Something clicked within Viola as she heard those words, making her get up to Joan's surprise. "I am no princess here, Joan. But I appreciate your kind words."
Viola looked at the maids and servants sitting on the ground, some crying, some freezing, some blankly staring into the air.
She could hear the dungeon's guard snoring. "Everyone," Viola started saying as eyes turned to her, "I, I am more than sure that the new King has no intention of taking your lives, and judging by his words I doubt he is the type of man to cause you harm or sell you into slavery."
"You don't know that," one of the maids cowering in the far left corner sobbed.
"I do know. If he wanted everyone dead, you wouldn't still be alive."
"I promise you that all will be well," Viola added sincerely.
Joan got up and placed her hand on Viola's shoulder. "She is right, Ladies. Keep your chin up. We're in this together."
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Viola had been right. King Archer had had all the maids and servants brought to the throne room to individually swear their loyalty to him as their new king, in exchange for their jobs back and better payment.
Joan was one of the last women to swear her loyalty and she did. But before turning away she looked at King Archer who sat cross-legged on the throne, watching her from up above the stairs.
"May I ask you something, your highness?" She said bowing deeply.
"There is no need for you to bow before me," Archer said thinking about what to do with the princess for a second before pushing the thought away.
"Go ahead," he said leaning his jaw on his fist.
"What will become of the princess?" The maid's whispers fell silent as all eyes turned to her.
Archer grit his teeth, making his jaw visibly clench. He stared at the elderly woman impatiently.
Joan was known for her direct way of speaking and Archer knew that. "Will you publicly hang her?" Joan asked. "To show the people of this country what a fair King you are?"
A few jaws dropped and subtle gasps could be heard through the massive room.
Joan continued knowing full well that she was walking on thin ice, "To show the people that you are kind and fair to all?"
Malik who was standing on the sidelines, unsheathed his sword, "Do you have a death wish, old hag?!" He spat at her, but the new King raised his hand to silence him.
Archer sat upright, tilting his head as he never took his eyes off the woman. "Well, head maid, out of curiosity, tell me, what would you do?" His voice was calm but threatening.
Joan turned a bit looking at the maids and servants. Some of them had gotten wounds from running and fighting back against Archer's men, out of fear.
"Do you see their wounds?" Joan asked. The king looked at the crowd of women. Most of them were unhurt, but those who were had bandages around their heads, arms, or legs. All bandages had the same color. A bright rose-colored fabric. Archer recognized it. It was the same color as the princess's dress.
"Mhm." The King folded his hands as she began getting a hunch of what had happened.
"Princess Viola used as much of her dress as she could for a few bandages," Joan said, "that dress is worth more than all of us servants earn together, but Viola couldn't have cared less about that."
Joan turned to look Archer in the eyes, "She has a heart of gold, she is not like the other royals."
If Archer hadn't seen how thoughtful she could be, he wouldn't believe a word. His thoughts went back to the flowers she'd carefully placed in remembrance of her previous guard.
"Even so," Archer finally spoke, "If she is so loved by all," he said with a hint of sarcasm, "that only makes her a threat to me."
"Not if you marry her," Joan interrupted his line of thoughts.
"If you want this kingdom to trust you, then you should start with the people inside the castle first."
Archer narrowed his brows.
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Being alone in the dark dungeons in the cold had been more frightening for Viola than she#d thought it to be. Just when she was getting used to it she could hear the door of the dungeon swing open and steps coming her way, making her uneasy. She didn't know why she was not slain like the other royals right in the throne room but she was sure that her own death was merely a glance away.
Two knights had pushed and pulled her all the way into the throne room, even though she would have simply complied and done as they told her.
The knights forced her down onto her knees, at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne.
The newly crowned King glared down at the tyrant's daughter. Her dress truly was completely ripped apart, with only a few parts covering her modesty.
The king folded his hands, "It seems luck really is on your side, Princess."
Viola looked him straight in the eyes, not showing a hint of the fear that was gnawing at her sanity.
"In three days from now, I will make you my Queen," King Archer ordered without any emotion to his voice.
Viola didn't believe her ears, or better yet she didn't believe him. She trusted him to give her false hope before having her hung.
She looked around the room at the knights and guards standing on each side of the throne room. She recognized one man, then two, and then to her horror, she recognized them all. They used to be her father's men, but they'd all turned their backs on him and betrayed her family.
All of her fear turned to anger at that very moment. It grew in her like a raging fire that violently rose inside of her. "I'll never be your Queen!" She spat at him.
King Archer leaned forwards on his throne staring at her with an icy fury in his eyes. "I'll give you one more time to rephrase yourself," he said sharply.
Princess Viola, sat upright, her voice burning with resentment, as she looked deep into his eyes, "I'd rather work as a slave for the rest of my life, than ever becoming your Queen."
King Archers' anger flared as he got up from his throne, walked down the stairs, and grabbed her by her jaw roughly as he tightened his grip making it ache under his touch.
With her face mere centimeters away from his he threatened, "Then so be it."
Viola tried her best not to flinch under his painful grip as she stubbornly held their gaze.
Tightening his clutch one more time, before finally letting go of her jaw he shouted, "Get her the fuck out of my sight!"
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King Archer had kept his word. He had freed every slave in the castle and left only Viola to be treated as one.
She worked day and night, whenever she was needed. Sir Malik, had been made the new Kings right hand and was in charge of keeping her busy.
Viola was not allowed to speak to any servants or maids unless they had orders from Sir Malik.
Five days it had been, but to Viola, it felt like forever. She had cleaned every window in the castle, gotten water buckets from the well of the castle every morning, cleaned and polished every piece of cutlery in the kitchen, and regularly swept the halls of the castle.
She didn't mind the hard work and didn't regret her decision in the slightest, but the fact that everyone had to pretend to deny her very existence slowly broke her. She'd barely slept during the past days, always being kept awake by new tasks. It slowly gnawed at her sanity. She began having trouble seeing while sweeping the floor and regularly thought she was hearing footsteps coming her way.
The sun began setting, once again painting the halls in a dark orange light sending chills down her spine. Every muscle in her body ached.
She wiped her forehead, before bringing back the broom into a storage room.
Her steps felt heavy as she walked towards the throne room looking for Sir Malik, in hopes he would let her rest for a bit.
When she found the doors to the large hall shut she contemplated on sitting on the ground and waiting for Sir Malik to come out, but before she could even finish her line of thought the muffled sounds of voices became louder and the doors opened.
For the first time since she'd been made a slave by him, she looked King Archer in the eyes as he walked into the hallway followed by a knight and his right hand, Sir Malik. His gaze hardened for a moment but was soon replaced by another emotion. A venomous grin laced his lips when he saw how different she looked. Her hair was messier, her under eyes were darker and her posture weaker. She no longer resembled the royal family he so hated.
He turned to her, "Have you come to beg?" His provoking words were cold.
Swallowing the cuss words that she wanted to call him she finally looked past him at Sir Malik, "I've come to ask if there is anything else you need me to do."
The King crinkled his nose in an unamused way. Malik looked at the king briefly before inhaling deeply, "Yes, I want this hallway speckless by morning."
Viola grit her teeth, knowing full well that they had been swept clean only a day ago and that he was simply ordering her to do it because he couldn't think of anything better.
With that said, the king began walking, roughly pushing her out of his way with his shoulder saying, "Better get to it then, princess."
Viola caught herself and watched Malik and the knight follow the King down the hallway. She sighed deeply before setting off to once again fetch the broom. She didn't mind the labor, in fact, in a way, it kept her mind busy which made her almost thankful for it, but she could have really used some sleep.
Moments later she surveyed the hallway, with the broom at hand. Since it was already pretty clean it shouldn't take her all night to clean, which motivated her.
While sweeping she steered clear of the throne room's doors as memories of only a few nights ago still sent a cold shiver down her back. She never found out what happened to her father's body after he died but she doubted that the new King had her family burried respectfully. She made a mental note to gather some flowers in her family's memory when she got the chance.
"Hey?" A female voice asked from right behind Viola, making her jump before turning quickly, holding the broom tightly as if it was a weapon, ready to sweep away the sneaky visitor.
Before her stood a maid, about the same age as Viola, dressed in her sleeping tunic, who seemed visibly confused about Viola's presence.
"Oh, sorry princess, I didn't mean to startle you," the young woman smiled apologetically.
Viola recognized her. She would sometimes bring Viola's dinner to her chamber or help her get ready for the day, back when she was still a princess.
"Amelie," Viola mumbled remembering her name, "don't worry about it."
"Don't tell me you still have work to do," Amelie asked, surveying the broom in Viola's hand.
"Yeah," Viola sighed, "I think the new king's right hand really likes clean hallways."
Amelie chuckled at her sarcastic remark before her facial features turned almost sad as she looked at the former princess.
"Hey, princess," Amelie paused for a moment, almost searching Viola's face for what words to say. "I'm, I'm really sorry for your loss."
Viola's eyes glazed over, "Thank you, I appreciate it."
The young maid gave Viola a comforting smile, before leaving to go to bed.
Viola continued sweeping before big, warm tears began rolling down her face. Her loss.
It felt like something inside of her had finally understood that she was all alone now. She lost her beloved father, and for the first time in days, she let herself grieve.
Her father had been a stubborn, greedy man, but when she was around, he was the best father she could have ever imagined. She'd loved him with all her heart and she didn't even get to say goodbye. Wiping her eyes, she tried to hide her sobs as they died down into small hiccups.
——————————————————————
"Hey, Princess..." Amelie's gentle voice whispered, bringing Viola back from her restless slumber.
She'd curled up in the kitchen next to the fireplace on the ground for some rest after having swept the long hallway.
Looking out the window she could tell that the sun was about to rise. "Sir Malik said you can come to help me sort out the books in the study since you can read."
Viola rubbed her eyes, looking at the maid who had already put on her maid's dress and tied up her hair neatly. Viola nodded and stretched trying to fight the urge to continue sleeping.
Silently Viola followed Amelie into the study. She wasn't a morning person and it always took her some getting used to when she awoke. Amelie held the door for her, before carefully shutting it completely as quietly as she could.
"Okay, most of the books are already sorted anyways but Sir Malik doesn't know that," Amelie grinned at the previous Princess.
Confused Viola tilted her head to one side, but Amelie continued to explain, "So I'll just dust off a few of them and sort them out and you can catch up on some sleep," Amelie said winking at Viola, who finally understood.
"Thank you so much," Viola said pulling Amelie in for a soft hug before adding, "I'll promise to help you out after resting for a bit."
Amelie shook her head with a smile, "Don't worry about it."