اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
002 ─── ∙ ⊰ ❀ ⊱ ∙ ──────── ∙ ⊰ ❀ ⊱ ∙ ───
The blow stung, down so shockingly deep that for a moment, Lucy felt her very essence rattle and pinball around the inside of her sore ribs; and not just that, no, there was something else that hurt so badly from the encounter.
Because the words that had fallen from his mouth so easily, as words were often determined to do with him, she had heard, were repulsive that it made her question what kind of a being he was to retain such nasty aversion. Insulting her kin? Surely that was extreme, even for a man with such a noble presence and an ego presumably larger than an entire realm.
The spouting of "you're still alive, are you not?"; calling her 'grotesque' and 'ill-fated' and a dozen other rambled near-barks of fury that marked his well achieved gloryof pinning a spy was utterly pathetic!
So was this the moment Lucy's half-life had been building to, a moment nearly as lethal as some botulinum toxin, a cure and worth every struggled breath she had suffered at night, away from her favourite brother – her only family, with the aching drag of her exhausted muscles in the manor she called home?
This man, this feral, uncontrollable, beast-like, strange man had suddenly become her brother's partner in crime years ago, after they met in their school – the one her brother would of had the benefit of the doubt to share the spoils of his victory with, over the coming years, to him, not to Lucy. It's not like Lucy and her brother were blood, was it? It's not like they haven't distanced incredibly due to him. As if that wasn't enough, the visual of him earlier indicated how the so-needed attention she wanted from her brother years ago were spared to a worthless man, instead. The damned prince.
Bastard. Lucy thought that role was more fitted.
Though how it all crashed down, she wasn't sure, only felt the rush of wind and the crash of sharp first, then the ground hard under her; and everything simply dissolved as his body curled inward on herself; what madness had overtaken him? Did he not understand her words of explanation, either? Was he that dim?
Her eyes itched from the pools of her sorrow as she forced them to watch her horse slowly pull away; given the harness of it to the manor's guard, taking with it her chance and all the potential to flee, off to a different existence – maybe better than her current very own. Taking away everything she had wished, as if, for an instant, it lay right in the palm of her wind-burned hands – oh, but it never did. Not in this century, and most probably never in a different life. Leaving her, as she had always been, alone and desperate within Enysa.
"My lady! You're back and it's ever so great to see you again!" Greeted her maid, Miss Baldwin, as Lucy set foot into the house of her youth.
"It's lovely to see you too, Sybil. Have you been well?"
