𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

Chapter Seventeen: Scars of The Past

.•° ✿ °•.

The King tried to suppress it, but I could tell he'd been shocked by what I'd said. Why had I said it? I wasn't supposed to tell this to people, I wasn't supposed to let people in. Especially not him, someone who probably still thinks of me as a toy than a human being. I met his gaze, and saw a sort of fear, one that he was trying to conceal. A single tear escaped from the corner of my eye, when I saw it. Did he hate me, fear me?

"R-Rose? What's the matter?" the King stammered, shocked at my unordinary behaviour.

"You hate me, you're afraid of me." I said.

"I'm not, I know you'll explain and it will be made clear that it was not your fault. I know you, Rose, you're one to take the blame for everything."

"I don't know if I can trust you enough to do that." I answered, letting my head sink.

"When I was a child, my youngest brother and I, we were close. All of my siblings seemed to have some repressed hatred towards me, knowing they would not be able to ascend to the throne, but my bother, Frederick, all he wanted to do was play, enjoy his childhood. I was in my mid-twenties when it happened..." the King paused for a moment, as if debating whether he would continue, but he did, "My father had separated us again, as he often did after I'd been crowned King, calling my duties to the people more important than playtime with children. Only this time, he was quite harsh to Frederick, undermined him, and cast him away. And I-"

The King's voice cracked, and he breathed out a shaky breath before continuing.

"I didn't go after him... It was late into December... Just after Christmas..." he struggled to speak, and I could tell it was getting harder and harder for him to recount his past.

"George, it's okay, I'm here." I gave his hands a squeeze, and he sucked in another deep breath.

"We found him the next morning in Leicester Square. He'd gone out in the forest, got lost and - And when he went into town he was sent away by the townsfolk, who all thought him a lowly beggar. The cold got to him before help could" he concluded, his shoulders slumping.

"You couldn't have known..." I tried comforting him.

"But I should've, I knew my brother well enough to know he'd do something drastic..."

"You can't blame yourself, it was an accident."

"Perhaps... But I lost my closest and most trusted friend that night, and every single day I wake up, knowing I could've stopped it, if I'd just done things the slightest bit differently..."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked softly.

"So that you might feel obligated to tell me about your past." he smiled subtly in spite of himself.

"I-I... Okay... It's only fair, but..." I trailed off, doubting whether I trusted him enough to tell him.

"I want you to tell me everything." he said sincerely, squeezing my hand tighter.

I took in a deep breath. I'd never told anyone about my past, but I... I trusted the King. I couldn't quite understand why, but I trusted him.

"I was abandoned as a child, in the middle of a raging rainstorm, I was left by my mother and father in a gutter, to drown. A small child on the street happened to spot me, and I was taken to an orphanage, which... Speaks for itself. I was three when I was taken to my first foster home, a family who was more interested in the sum they could make from the orphanage for taking me than myself as a person. The next home was worse... They beat me. And so did the next. I grew to learn that all families were the same. Until I met Marie Renaud." my voice faltered as I recalled the woman, "She taught me how to bake and read, she showed me that the world was not so bad a place... I even made friends in my new neighbourhood. Marie warned me against them... But I - But I didn't listen. I snuck out one night to see them, returning very late, to find - to find..."

"It's alright, you can tell me." the King said.

"Marie was dead." I blurted out, "She'd been ill for some time, and I, being a stupid and ignorant child, couldn't see it. She spent money on food and clothes for me, rather than medicine for herself. That day she'd had a heart attack, and because no one was with her at the time... No one was there to help her... She died. I let her down, she was always there for me, and I let her down."

I gave up trying to suppress the tears, and just let them fall. I didn't deserve to be alive, not after choosing my own selfish wants over Marie's life. I was a vile human being.

"I went with Marie's sister after that," I continued after a moment, "A home worse than all the others combined... They left so many scars, where people couldn't see them... I was returned to the orphanage when I was sixteen, stayed for a year, and then left for the military, never looking back." I gave the King a half-hearted smile, "And so ends my tragic backstory."

"You... You aren't at fault Rosalie." the King spoke quietly.

"But of course I am, she fell ill and could not treat herself because of me. I was absent when she needed me most, and with my friends whom she'd told me to stay away from, no less..."

"You were a child, Rose, how were you to know?" he asked softly, "Marie, she seemed like a wonderful person. What do you think she'd say?"

"I wonder that each and every day of my life."

"I think she would tell you to let go of the past and to live in the present. You shouldn't dwell on the things you can't change." he said.

"I believe that advice is just as well suited to you as it is to me." I answered, smiling in spite of myself.

"I - Thank you. For telling me about your past - For opening up to me." he said, a bit colour dusting his cheeks.

"I trust that you're a good person, and I... And I don't think you'll hurt me." I spoke hesitantly.

"I could never hurt you." the King pulled me into an embrace that lasted for a long moment, before pulling away, "And, as I said, I do not, and never will, hate you. Perhaps you should listen to me more often."

"Yes, because you are so often in the right." I said sarcastically.

"Was that tone mocking?" he asked flatly.

"Mocking? Me?" I laughed, pretending to be oblivious.

The King sighed in frustration, pushing me up against the wall.

"Rose I-" the King was cut off at a sharp knock on the glass doors, "For the love of God - What the hell do you want Samuel?".

The King pulled away from me, as the balcony doors were swiftly opened, to reveal Samuel and Darwin

"A message from... What was it?" Samuel looked at Darwin, who quickly whispered something in his ear, "A message from, er, Sir Dawrin the Great and Mighty."

"Ehem. Hear ye, Mister King. I am Sir Darwin the Mighty and there are guys from America who want to see you in the Throne room." Darwin spoke with an air of authority.

"Lead the way then, my good sir." the King played into Darwin's act.

"Follow me." he smiled, gesturing the King to follow him.

"One moment, meet me inside, I must speak with Rosalie." he dismissed the boy, and Samuel followed, as the King turned to face me.

"This conversation will continue, and don't think I'll forget how you so viciously mocked me." he said, looking down at me, still pressed against the wall.

I felt a blush rise to my face and a pang in my heart as I watched him go. What was this feeling? Was I simply happy to have let out all my bottled up emotions, or was it something deeper?

°•. ✿ .•°