𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

Chapter Four: Not Quite So Bad

.•° ✿ °•.

It had been nearly a month since my arrest, and my visits with the King had become a daily occurrence. However, I found that it was never in order to interrogate, but rather to talk. And as time went on, our conversations, I'd noticed, had begun to change, however slightly. Rather than toy with me, he'd begun to inquire into my interests, past, and relationships. Of course, I would always deny him the pleasure of knowing those things, and in turn, he would do the same to me.

One morning, I awoke to a familiar face, the guard whom I'd come to know as Christian. Unlike the King, he hadn't warmed up to me in the slightest. In fact, I believed he was growing more annoyed with me and my silence with each passing day. He ordered me to stand before going through the normal ritual of unlocking the cell, tying my wrists, leading me through the prison, passed the basement, and finally into the study, only this time, the King wasn't there. Nonetheless, the guard left me alone in the room, which I found strange, as it presented me with an opportunity to escape.

I sighed, as I remembered that I couldn't leave the room, for the guard was posted directly outside of it. Not only that, but the windows were ruled out as well, for there were numerous guards posted outside by day. For the first time since our meetings began, I was free to inspect the numerous books that lined the shelves of the study, something I'd been longing to do for some time. I awkwardly took out and examined one book at a time, my hands still bound. My breath hitched as I recognized a particular book I recognized, one that had been given to me by someone very dear.

Books had been something I'd used to pass the time as a child, a sort of comfort in a place that didn't feel like home. As I placed the book back on the shelf, my mind done reminiscing, my brows furrowed. Could it be, that...

"You planned this." I accused the King, who sat silently in a chair in the corner opposite me, a smile on his face.

"Well, I couldn't very well guess your interests, and it's not as though you would've told me." he answered, standing up and making his way to me, "So, you've an interest in literature."

"Yes, as do many people." I retorted bluntly, as the King at last stopped in front of me, placing his hands on either side of me, resting on the shelf behind me, "There is, you know, a concept likely foreign to you, known as personal space."

"I'm aware of it. I just find it so much more fun this way." he said, lowering his tone, "Care to tell me of any other interests you have?"

"Why does it concern you?" I asked feeling my face heat up, "And why would I tell you everything about me, when you haven't told me a thing about yourself?"

"Is that your subtle way of inquiring into my interests?" he smirked.

"Mon dieu, non, it was simply a statement." I responded, refusing to meet the King's gaze.

"Of course. We wouldn't want anyone thinking you've grown fond of me, and would like to know more about me, now would we?"

"I'm sure no one would get that impression, seeing as how it is entirely false." I said, trying to squirm out of the King's steadfast hold.

"Is it?" he asked, tightening his grip on me.

"Oui. Why would I have any -" I was cut off as I turned to face the King, finding that his face was so close, that our noses almost touched.

Suddenly, the door to the study burst open, to reveal a small boy, perhaps five or six years old. The King quickly pulled away, his face growing warmer at the child's presence. The boy stopped at the sight of us, mouth agape.

"I'm so sorry King!" he said, bowing clumsily.

"Darwin, what in God's name do you think you're doing!" Christain shouted, following him into the room.

"Found you!" a young girl of the same age entered the room, pointing to the younger boy.

"No fair! That wasn't nearly a minute Dot!" the young boy, Darwin, pouted.

"Was too!" she argued.

"Was not!" Darwin returned.

"Enough! Just wait until your mother finds out what you've done!" Christain shouted, silencing the two children, grabbing them both by the arms, and pulling them to the door, "Humblest of apologies, your highness!"

The door shut, and the sounds of the children pleading and attempting to bargain with Christain faded away down the hall. I turned to the King with a quizzical expression.

"The baker's twins." he said, laughing, which surprised me.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or does the King have a soft spot for children?" I asked, my own lips curling into a smile, something that hadn't happened in a while.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is the stone cold Rosalie Alcott smiling?" he retorted.

"At the children, not you. Don't flatter yourself." I responded flatly, attempting and failing to hide my smile.

The King laughed, as the doors opened once again, to reveal Christain.

"Terribly sorry, your majesty, I've returned the children to her mother, who offers her deepest apologies." he bowed, before returning to his post outside the door.

"You really do scare everyone around here, don't you?" I asked, shaking my head, to which the King shrugged, "I don't think you're all that bad." I concluded absentmindedly.

"What was that, dear?" he shot me a smug smile.

"I meant scary, you aren't all that scary! Dieu, vous pouvez  être vraiment intolérable parfois." I said quickly.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the clock struck ten, the usual time the King would have me returned to my cell in order to attend to country and war business.

"Adieu, my Rose, until next time," he stood, making his way to the door before stopping and turning to face me, offering me a subtle smile and then leaving the room.

I was returned to my cell, and smiled in spite of myself, thinking of everything that had just happened. Even before I'd been arrested, before I joined the army, I couldn't recall ever giving anyone a genuine smile. The last person who'd been able to make me smile was Marie, and that had been years ago. How had the King - Someone I'd grown up hating, someone who'd had me arrested for God's sake - Gotten one out of me? That night the same thoughts disturbed my mind, making sleep altogether impossible.

The next morning, I found myself strangely looking forward to visiting the King and seeing him again. Only, Christain never appeared at my cell that day, nor the next day, or even the next. A week passed, and I heard nothing from the King, or anyone for that matter. But what had I been thinking, getting my hopes up? The King saw me as nothing but a plaything. For all I knew, he'd grown bored of me and moved on to another girl.

I wasn't jealous, but I could not help but feel a certain sense of disappointment. It was a rude awakening from my folly delusion that the King was beginning to warm up to me, to see me as a person rather than a toy. That night, I closed my eyes to sleep, finding that I couldn't, as my mind was plagued with belittling thoughts. I'd never really meant that much to anyone, anyways, why would the King be any different? I jumped, at the sound of my cell door opening.

I opened my eyes, confused to see Christian. He gestured for me to follow him, and I did. As we travelled our usual route to the study, I couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of excitement at being able to see the King again. Only, it was strange that he was summoning me at such a late hour. My confusion only grew when we stopped at one of the doors in the basement, a small musty room, shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a small rectangular window by the ceiling, letting in the pale light of the moon.

I turned to Christain, confused. He pointed me to a chair, and I sat. He then proceeded to tie my wrists to the chair, and then my legs, and my heart sunk as I realized what was going on. So, the King had decided to use violence as a method of gaining information after all. I was right, he had grown bored of me, and now, the only thing he wanted out of me was information, and he would stop at nothing to get it. And he couldn't have even done it himself. What a coward.

°•. ✿ .•°