ARABELLA's POV
After a few agonising minutes of just glaring at each other, Mason and I were snapped out of our intense duel by a voice that resonated in the now-completely silent room.
Every colour on Mason's face drained from this cold, dangerous and authoritative voice which caused everyone's gaze to turn to look at the source of this voice, including mine.
The person was standing at the staircase, exuded confidence, dominance and power, and behind him stood an equally dangerous looking man.
My gaze travelled with his threatening strides to the centre of the room, followed by the other guy who just glared at everyone, almost daringly.
My teeth were gritting and jaw was clenched as I was trying to mask the look of complete terror from my face, that had taken over my every sense.
"I'm going to ask y'all one more time, and this time I expect an answer, what the hell is going on here?" He asked, looking straight at me, then shifted back and forth between Mason and I.
My eyes then shifted from that person, who referred to me as his sister, towards my father, who was already staring at me, trying to read my expressionless face.
My fidgeting hands come to a halt as I have now had my fist clenched tightly.
"I was just waiting for my daughter to put this idiot in place." My father said motioning towards Mason and I, as a sly smirk formed on my lips.
"Ditto." The rest of my brothers agreed, even Elijah who was all looking at Mason in disappointment, the younger ones clearly glaring.
"Now that the moment is over, Princess, I would like to apologise, and I know I've already apologised, but it will never be enough, and all of us can only hope that you would accept us and our name and refer to yourself as 'King' rather than 'Sanders'." My father said in a gentle and apologetic tone, with a hopeful look on his face.
"Gladly–" I said as everyone except Elijah, Dad and the new entries gave me a puzzled look mixed with shock at my quick acceptance.
I meant it when I said I'd gladly refer to myself by anything other than the name that linked me to those monsters.
"You're not even going to argue? Not that I mind, but that was a little shady response." Noah said, phrasing everyone's thoughts out loud as I can see some head nodding as Noah finished.
"That's none of your business–"
No, that wasn't me–
All eyes turned to look at our father who was the owner of those words, his gaze however shifted towards me.
"Arabella 'King', sounds so much better. I'm glad you've decided to use our name, which was how it was always supposed to be. You are a King and when you introduced yourself as Sanders, it just made us more aware of the fact that we have missed so much of your life and how you were not with us all those years ago. You were, and are supposed to be a King." My father finished a speech which didn't really elicit much of a response from me other than a quick nod of head.
I couldn't help but feel a little warmth that fought its way to fill my heart.
His reasoning gave me a sense of hope, however false, but it made me think that there was a possibility that they might all actually want to give this a shot.
My father's eyes were softly staring at me with patience, no anger or frustration on his face.
This all feels unrealistic and unusual–
YOU ARE READING
Resilience
Teen Fiction[COMPLETED] "Life doesn't get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient." ― Steve Maraboli She has experienced more pain in her 15 years of life than many people do in their lifetimes. Her life has always been filled with pain, em...
