••• SIX •••

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Chapter Six

I follow the male, his robes trailing behind him as any movie would display a powerful king.

He looks like the perfect predator, how he walks, his chin held high, hands by his side, strides long, and never looking back at me. The crown upon his head only causes more fear to reside within my body. The fear of him uncovering not only who I am, but what I am. One small slip and I'm doomed, receiving the death to those he would have. After all, my father killed his father.

Why?

I have no clue.

The guards beside me don't add to my comfort as I'm forced to keep up with the male, pacing myself faster than usual as countless halls pass bye. How massive can this palace possibly get? It's truly a bigger on the inside, endless on in the inside as I'm overwhelmed by its beauty.

For now, I just walk behind the King, making sure to not draw any more attention to myself than I already have. After all, what more attention can I grab than the King's. After another five minutes of all I can hear is the sound of my feet across the marble floor, the King comes to a door, barely even sparing me a glance as one of the guards opens it up. Right away I wonder where I am now...if this is my end even.

"Are you coming, traveler?" The King asks, his voice enveloping me in some sort of spell.

I follow the King, deciding to keep my mouth shut as the guards stay behind, not bothering to follow as my skin pales.

This is not a room.

It's a balcony one the size of perhaps my whole childhood house's second floor. The marble floor stretches far and wide, a semi-circle as the railing is detailed with every curve. Furniture is out here, a ceiling over the balcony as a fire pit stands next to a couple of what I would call couches. But the view, the view is the most striking. It's one of the city beyond the palace, the white marble reflecting the beautiful pink and orange hues of the sunset as mountains lay in the background.

The sound of the doors shutting take me from my state of awe and throw me back into reality. Reality? Can this even be considered reality?

"Take a seat," the King motions, showing me a beautiful and comfy chair, just beside the railing, pushed up against it as if on purpose. The chair is high enough, that one simple push, and I'll be thrown over the railing and plummet to my death stories below.

I follow his words, taking a seat in the chair right against the railing. He moved the chair out here for a purpose, as seeing the group it was taken from is quite a way away from the railing.

The second I take a seat, I meet those eyes.

The eyes that hold the galaxies within them and make me in awe of space. It's as if every beautiful part of the universe has been thrown into his very eyes. How they change color amazes me, always holding a tint of purple, yet the endless specs of gold, vibrant green and blues, and even hints of gray only make me more amazed.

"So, what is the name of the woman who spoke that deadly name?"

I do not want to anger the King. I do not want to be thrown off the balcony and never make it home. Home, such a faraway term.

"Candice," I whisper, still afraid of this male as he seems hardly any older than me, yet the way he holds himself makes him appear only more mature and deadly. He's trouble. Yet that never stopped me before. Growing up I liked the thrill of doing something dangerous or something my mother was against. Through middle school I did many things to try and draw my mother's attention and concern towards me, but rarely did that ever work.

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