The Prince Of Curses h.s.

Three

I woke up the next day in an unfamiliar large bedroom. I was laying in one of the largest beds I've ever seen. It was surrounded by a thin sheer canopy, the columns holding it up looked like they were carved from gold.

I grabbed my head, sitting up in the bed. I squinted my eyes as the large window across the room let in a blinding amount of sunlight. I know I've always said I wanted to live in a bigger house, but not like this

Where was I? 

How long have I been asleep? 

In a panic I shot up from the bed, running towards what I assumed was the bedroom door. My hand grasped the handle tightly as I twisted and pulled on the knob. The door didn't budge, I assumed it was locked from the outside. I kicked the door in frustration, turning around and leaning against it. This can't be happening.

My back slid slowly down the door as I brought my knees up to my chest to rest my hands over my eyes. Why was I here?

It felt like my mind was running a million miles a minute. I had so many questions and no answers. I raised my head from my hands, looking around the large room. Maybe there's another way out.

What kind of psychopath accuses someone of being a witch? And then locks them away without an explanation?

One thing I did know was that I was definitely not a witch. I was a baker's daughter, I grew up with a normal working-class life. No magic, no witchery. 

This must be the biggest misunderstanding of the century.

I stood, walking over to the window to see if there was a way I could open it. The tall window had two large panes in the middle with handles, indicating that it could be opened. I grabbed them, giving them a twist and trying to push them open. However, it soon came to my realization that they were locked too. 

I looked down through the window. Wherever I was, it was a few stories up. Even if I wanted to escape through the window, there was no way I could survive a jump like that.

I sighed, walking over to a smaller door on the opposite side of the room. I grabbed the knob and pushed it open. On the inside was a lavish washroom, one of the most beautiful ones I had ever seen. But it didn't matter, because I wasn't supposed to be here.

I walked over to the double sink which had a large mirror hanging above it. I turned on the water, cupping my hands underneath to splash on my face. I looked up, grabbing a hand towel to dab my wet skin dry.

I stared at my reflection. I was still wearing my mother's purple-blue gown. My hair was in a mess and my cheeks were slightly red from being so flustered. I had large bruises on my arms from being grabbed by the guards yesterday. My silver necklace still hung from my neck, resting lightly on my chest.

Sighing, I took one last look at myself before walking back into the bedroom. I was trapped in here. Out of defeat and frustration, I decided to lay back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling above me.

I don't know how long I stayed like that, but it seemed like hours. The sun began to set, making my room illuminate in a dusty orange color. It wasn't until there was a small knock on my door that my heart began to race, making me sit up quickly on the bed. I looked around for anything to grab so I could defend myself. My fingers wrapped tightly around a lamp that was placed on my bedside table.

My eyes locked on the door as I heard the sound of a key jiggle, then the door slowly crept open. A woman walked in pushing a cart with her. I watched as she kicked the door closed with the heel of her foot, scanning the room until her eyes met mine.