Page 4 of Monster's Bride
In my peripheral vision, several of the villagers flatten themselves closer toward the wall. I don’t blame them. Beneath the adrenaline fueling my courage, the distinct tickle of fear zips up my back. I might be a princess, but I’m hardly treated like one. I might as well be a commoner for how I’m excluded from decisions involving my life and forced to play a role I don’t want.
I’m a pawn in his royal game, nothing more.
“Then let me protect the kingdom,” I urge, and drop my arms. “Let me stay and fight.”
My father laughs, and my cheeks burn hotter.
“You’re wasting your time, and mine, with this nonsense.” He waves a hand, dismissing me. “You will protect our kingdom by securing an alliance with the kingdom of Ulleh. That is where you are needed. Therefore, that is where you will go. Now, return to your room before I have the guards carry you there.”
Bending to his will is all I’ve ever known, and the urge to obey is strong, but I stand my ground. I’m on a mission. I didn’t blackmail Darsan and force my way into the throne room to stand down.
I came here to change his mind.
“Then let them,” I dare. “That’s the only way I’m leaving, and it’s the only way you’re getting me to Ulleh. I won’t stand for this.”
He gets to his feet then, walking to the end of the dais, and my throat suddenly feels tight. Dressed head to toe in black—the color of mourning worn when someone dies—he doesn’t look like a king, aside from the crown on his head, but the power he exudes says otherwise.
The room falls silent, and nobody moves.
“Iwon’t stand for the blatant disrespect you’ve shown me in front of my people,” he says, his voice louder than before. “You will be dealt with accordingly, and youwillsecure an alliance between our kingdoms. Your opinion on the matter is null.”
He looks at the guard to his right and nods his head in my direction. I swallow hard, knowing what’s coming, but I won’t turn and run. If this is the way he wants it, his guards can drag me, kicking and screaming, from the hall.
Going out with a bang.
Without a word, the guard steps forward and hops down the steps to the dais. His dark eyes narrow on me as he closes the distance between us, and I brace myself to be manhandled. There are worse things in the world, but I wish it was at least Darsan in charge of dragging me back to my room.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” the knight says softly as he stops before me. He has a short goatee and a scar running the length of his cheek. Gently, he grabs my arm above the elbow and pushes me to spin in place, facing the exit.
Lizette stands a few feet away, her eyes wide and lips pressed tight. I know there’s an “I told you so” coming for me later, but right now, it’s trumped by her worried expression. No guard has ever put their hands on me before.
We don’t make it three steps before an unfamiliar voice sounds behind us, loud and commanding enough to grab the attention of the room.
“Wait.”
The single word has my stomach dropping to the floor, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. Slowly, I crane my neck around to see a man stepping away from the cluster of people. He’s the same man who moved aside to let me address my father.
His skin is darkly tanned from long days in the field, and his splash of hair is bright blond. He’s dressed in shades of beige, from his baggy shirt to the shoes on his feet, and, judging by his broad build, he’s perfect for manual labor. Seeing a farmer in the throne room is a little surprising, since meetings with the king are typically reserved for nobles, but the most shocking thing is that he isn’t addressing my father.
He's looking at me.
“Sedric, stop,” a woman behind him snips. She’s about his age, wearing similar clothes, and her eyes are swollen and red, as though she’s been crying. She meets my eyes briefly before looking away.
Sedric presses his lips firmly together and shifts his weight back and forth, like he’s considering the consequences of breaking regulations by speaking to me. With the hardships our kingdom has faced in recent years, formalities and protocols have slowly diminished, but there’s no reason for him to address me. I have no power here, and soon enough, I won’t even live in this kingdom. I can’t help him.
He still stares me down, obviously conflicted, and I’m curious to know what has him so troubled. I shake my arm out of the guard’s hold, which has gone slack, and turn to face him.
“Yes, Sedric?”
My eyes flick to my father, who’s reclaimed his seat on the throne, but he says nothing. He’s letting this conversation play out, so it must be in my best interest to hear what the man has to say.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Sedric stammers as beads of perspiration form on his forehead. “I just… wanted to thank you.”
“Thankme?” My jaw drops unattractively. Had he not just witnessed the yelling match between me and my father? What could he possibly be thanking me for?
He nods himself into a bow and stands upright again. “Yes, Your Highness. For the peace you will bring between Hyatt and Ulleh.”
I stare at him, clinging to my composure. Is he patronizing me? Trying to smooth over the horrible situation of my betrothal? While I might have lost the battle with my father, I intend to win the war. I have no intention of going to Ulleh.