Underground

VII

Your sleep was restless. You couldn't keep your eyes closed for more than 10 minutes at a time. You were far too fixated on Harry being inside the labyrinth, imagining how angry he was at you.

You'd swapped places with him. You couldn't blame him for being mad. You'd reached the castle and had the potential to save him, to take him home again, but a little voice had whispered in your ear that he didn't deserve that. He deserved to suffer for the pain he had caused you.

A woman scorned is a woman to fear.

You slinked over to the window, placing your hands on the ledge and peering out into the bustling Goblin City. The mythical creatures roamed around as usual, having returned to their previous affairs after you escaped their clutches only an hour before. You watched as they interacted freely with one another, as they re-enacted a simple village life of purchasing goods from a store, as they cooked dinners and baked for joy...

They were once human.

It seemed as though, despite no longer possessing their humanity and their memories, they had that urge to act out something engraved deep in their minds. They acted scarily human with their routines. You wanted to say it was endearing, but you actually felt a deep surge of pity for them.

They were the ones that weren't saved. They were wished away and forgotten about. So many of them had been wronged, and none of them were allowed to return to their human lives. You supposed it was a relief that they couldn't recall their past before being a goblin, and that being a goblin is all they'd ever know, but you wondered if they ever gazed up at the stars at night, feeling as though something were missing. Did they dream about what they had lost? The subconscious always found a way to visit.

"You did not sleep."

You whirled around, now coming face to face with the Goblin King. He lingered in the doorway, a crystal ball grasped in his hand.

"No," you said softly, feeling your voice catch in your throat. You blinked away at the exhaustion that threatened to take over, but your body was still working in overdrive to keep you awake. "I couldn't."

The Goblin King hummed, the crystal ball vanishing in an instant. He sauntered into the room, his presence suddenly making the room brighter, more ethereal. His powerful eyes scanned every fibre of your being, as if he were drinking you in.

Then, his gaze landed on the bed. While you had laid amongst the sheets and curled up, trying to fall asleep, it was clear you hadn't remained there for very long. He tutted. "Was it not to your expectations? Were the sheets not to your liking?" He asked, and you sensed a hint of distress in his tone.

You furrowed your brows together, shaking your head in denial. "No, the bed was perfect," you assured quickly. "I just couldn't stop thinking," you admitted, gesturing to your head where your mind continued to flurry.

The Goblin Kings expression relaxed.

How strange. Surely a King as powerful as himself wouldn't care for your comfort. A human girl with a taste for revenge against her ex. There was nothing interesting about you, and yet he beheld you with a deep fascination. He seemed to fret about every material thing that he gave you, making sure you were happy with it and not the slightest bit disappointed.

You wanted to ask him why. Why did he care? A King shouldn't worry himself with trivial things such as bed sheets for a guest. A King should worry about his kingdoms affairs, whether or not his subjects were loyal under his rule. So why was he so focused on you?

"Then what ails you, my dear?" The Goblin King asked, now drawing close to you. He practically towered above you, and you should really have found him intimidating with the way his expression had twisted so firm and serious.