The Other King

The Other King- 1 (Watty Awards!)

The man who is hurting this village stood before me with his head high and arms crossed against his chest. I took a glance in to his eyes only to be greeted by cold, emptiness. I quickly snapped my head down and looked to the ground.

 “My- my name is Amanda your highness.”

 “Where do you live?” He asked in the same cold tone, he used to talk to the carriage driver. I noticed he was eyeing me up and down. His eyes lingered once he saw my dirty, old cloak that my mother had made me before she died.

 “I live over the South Hill, Sir.”

 His eyes never moved, his gaze glued to my fragile body.

 “What were you doing running about the streets? Are you a whore?” He harshly asked.

 “No-no your highness; I was just returning someones coins they forgot to take.” I said showing him the small little coin. I felt his pale hand grab the coin away from me. I looked up at through my black, long eyelashes.

 He looked down at the coin and made a fist around it. “Well I’m sure this young man would’ve given it to me anyway, so I’ll just keep it. So you come from the South Hill. So I’m guessing your some farmers daughter?”

 “Yes, I am.” I stated.

 I wasn’t ashamed that was some poor farm working girl, I was proud that I didn’t just have to marry rich, that I could make money myself.

 “I see. How much land do you own?” He asked with a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

“My father owns only 4 acres.” My father has lost a lot of land since Peter decided he wants to double his taxes once again.

 “Now, how old are you?”

 “I am 16.”

 “Have you finish your education?”

 “No, I cant leave my farm.”

 “Why?”

 I let out a breath in annoyance. He’s very blunt and nosy. I just wanted him to leave me alone and go back to his throne where he can command all his poor slaves around. “I have to take care of my family’s land. My father is very ill and my mother passed away.” I mumbled.

 “Was your mother a whore?” He asked with a smile.

 “No, I don’t really want to talk about it.” I said wiping the tear away. I hated to face the truth. What if my mother was a whore?

 “Now, now. Don’t cry. Would you like to accompany me on a carriage ride through the village?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “Please you pathetic fool try to keep your eyes on the road. I don’t want you to make me fool in front of company.” He sneered at the old man.

The driver nodded and came off from the top seat of the carriage and led us to the carriage door. the old man gave me a toothless smile and bowed down as Peter entered the carriage, I followed after him.

 The carriage was a dark purple with throw pillows on the seats. There was a small window looking out towards the doctors office. Peter quickly whiped a purple curtain across the open window. I turned my head towards him, he was gesturing a hand for me to sit across from him. I sat where he guestured on the soft purple comforters on the wooden seats. I looked around the carriage some more to only see more purple cushions.

 “Do you like it?” He asked with a smile looking around the carriage.

 “I ordered that everything in here be purple. My father hated the color purple you see, so I decided to make this all purple.”