royally arranged

Mother [chapter 21]

"What's happening to mommy?" Nikos asked, gripping onto the flowing part of your dress tightly, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He partially knew what was happening, but didn't understand as well as you did.

Your 12 year old self crouched down, hugging your younger brother close to you. One of your hands caressed his back while the other pushed his head into your shoulder. It was better if he didn't see what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry! My babies! I love you," your mother cried, a stream of steady tears coming down her face. "Mealonie, please take care of them!"

You heard the maid sob from beside you. She had a handkerchief balled up in one of her hands, the other covering her mouth. She had a look of pure fright, ugly cries and sobs coming from her lips.

"Set him aflame," your father ordered one of his servants, sitting cross legged on his throne, acting as if he was the most bored person in the world. Like none of what he was doing right there and then was important.

There was a butler who stood right beside your mother, covered in gasoline and tears of his own. He held a look of regret and much sorrow. Your mother and the butler were both tied up in ropes, making it impossible for them to resist.

"Please, lord. I'm sorry," he pleaded, shaking his head back and forth, "I beg of you, let me go! I will never do anything like it again."

"You're right, you won't ever do anything like it again," the kings spoke in a firm voice, "Because you'll be dead."

Your father nodded at his servant, that person lighting a match and dropping it on the poor butler. You watched as the man let out screams of pain, fire engulfing his full body with no remorse.

You covered Nikos's ears, not wanting the seven year old to hear such horrid things. You stared at this all, the image implanting in your head so it could haunt you in future nightmares.

"Cover her," your dad spoke after seeing the butler he had just burned drop down to the floor dead as a lifeless, burnt, corpse. There were no sounds coming from the recently burned man, only the small fire that still lived on part of his clothes that hadn't been completely burnt yet.

"Please, please no," your mother cried, looking at you dead in the eyes with a terrified look, "Don't do this to me!"

"Father, don't!" you cried, knowing the king would simply ignore you. "You're being evil!"

He only cared about getting back at his ex wife. She had been caught cheating on him, and instead of trying to do marriage counseling or simply getting a divorce, your father decided the best course of action was to murder the accused. Setting them aflame was his only thought.

Seriously though, what could that damn king expect when he's only ever cruel to his wife? The person he "swore" he loved.

He waved you off, "Cover her. Now."

And so, the same servant who had dropped the match on the butler reluctantly covered your mother in gasoline. They closed their eyes tightly and winced at the sound of your mother screaming for somebody to help her.

"Light her," your father spoke with pure hatred once he saw the whole container of gas had been emptied on your mother.

"No! Stop!" you begged, looking at the scene in front of you unfold the whole time. Mealonie dropped to her knees and brung you into a hug, dragging Nikos closer to her as well since he was still in your arms.

Nikos was letting out tears of his own. And though he wasn't able to see a thing, he could hear the muffled screams through your hands.

"I said," your father spoke over you, "Light her!"

The servant flinched, a few tears falling from their eyes as they lit the match. They looked away as they slowly brought the match closer and closer to your helpless mother.

"Y/n, darling, please look away," your mother said shakily, a tear dropping from her cheek as she looked at you.

And before you could even say anything back, your mother let out a scream of pain, lighting up in a huge blanket of orange.

You wanted to look away, but you couldn't. You watched and heard the whole thing, eyes wide. There were tears in your eyes, but they refused to drop.

You had just watched your father ruthlessly murder your own mother and you didn't do a thing about it.

You gasped as your eyes snapped open, you shooting up in bed. The comforter that once covered your shoulders fell down into your lap. Sweat trickled down your forehead and your breathing was uneven. You looked around the room with pure horror.

Right, today marks the third year anniversary of my mother's execution.

A tear, a singular tear, streaked down your face. You placed a hand over your heart, trying your hardest to control the speed of your heart. It was pumping too fast.

Shoto was awoken by your sudden movements, the male tiredly rubbing his eyes. He slowly sat up as well, taking a few moments to wake up fully before trying to observe his surroundings.

But when he did wake up fully and registered you had been breathing unsteadily beside him, he immediately pulled you into a hug. His nose dug into your hair, the male planting small kisses in attempts to calm you down.

He didn't utter a word, not asking you a single question. His sole goal being to make you calm down.

Rocking you from side to side slightly, he whispered sweet nothings into the air, closing his eyes gently.

"Hey, hey," he spoke softly, removing you from the hug and crawling out of the covers so he sat in front of you. He cupped your cheeks with his hands, using his thumb to wipe your eyes of any tears. He brought his forehead to yours, closing his eyes softly once again, "Everything's fine. Breathe."

Shoto took deep breaths in and out, never once opening his eyes. Your breathing was slowly starting to match the pace of his own, your eyes closing on their own. You placed your hands of Shoto's, slowly opening your eyes again when you felt your breathing was under control.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Shoto's two different eye colors staring back into yours. They were soft, showing only care.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I had," you started to say, taking in a shaky breath halfway through, "I had a bad dream."

Shoto slowly nodded, "Do you mind telling me what it was about?"

You winced when thinking back at the nightmare, making Shoto freeze up. He didn't quite know what to do, but he was trying his hardest.

"Please don't feel pressured to do so. You don't have to if you don't want to," he spoke softly, his hot breath fanning against your lips, reminding you how close the two of you were.

Butterflies started to flutter around in your stomach, but you chose to ignore them for the time being. You closed your eyes yet again before shaking your own head. "It's fine, I promise. I can tell you."

And so you did, except with less detail about the gruesome parts. Shoto listened the whole time, his hands still cupping your cheeks by the end of the story- well more on the side of horrible childhood trauma...

"I am so sorry," he spoke calmly, though there was pity in his tone and eyes. "You should've never had to experience such a horrible thing."

You felt safe in his hands, like you wanted to kiss him—

Oh fuck. I fell for him...