The Queen
I wake up with the heavy blankets draped over me; another day and night have gone past without seeing my betrothed. My maid has told me he's been busy taking care of important matters. But I; I have been locked up in this tower gazing longingly out at the beautiful city beneath me. A city I have never seen, and a city I'm supposed to be the Queen of. How can I care for a city and a people I don't know.
I lift up my heavy dress as I jump down from my bed. The dress is dark green, making my skin look even paler than before. The dress is what they call a winter dress. Winter, what a peculiar word, they say winter comes here every year and apparently it's a big event. They say that with winter comes snow. The maid explained, it looks as if powdered sugar covered the country site. I must say ,I would like to see that. A country covered in white. They say it falls from the sky and covers everything. It must look like a wonderland.
I sit on my windowsill hugging my dress tighter around me, even though the window is closed the cold air still gets through to me. I look out of the clear glass window, another thing I've never seen before. Where I come from its always warm an there's no need for anything to keep out the cold. I prefer the window open, but the maid insists on closing it. She says her master will kill her if anything were to happen to me. I think the young maid is exaggerating, it's not like the king has any affiliation with me. If anything he owns me with the amount of money he's paid for me.
I hear the door opening and a pair of heavy boots entering. I keep looking out the window, not wishing to engage in a conversation with anyone. I hear the person drawing a deep breath, almost like sniffing the air.
"You shouldn't be sitting there, you could get sick," a deep raspy voice growls. A tingle runs down my back at the sound of the king's voice. I still refuse to look fully at him, but I'm now watching him from the corner of my eye. I pull my knees closer to my chest and draw the heavy dress tighter around me.
I hear heavy footsteps coming closer and soon a comfortable scent surrounds me. My breath catches in my throat; he's so close now I can almost feel the warmth coming from him. Or maybe I'm just imaging it. Though I could swear everything seems warmer, and lighter with him here. Still, he carries a dark aura with him that sometimes seems to swallow everything. I've only truly seen it once and that was when he put my father in place. That time he showed a darkness that deeply frightens me; I dread it just like I dread the sea, I fear it could drown me. Swallow me whole and never let me see daylight again.
"Look at me," he says in a low voice but when I don't comply he changes his sweet tone.
"Look at me!" I should have known, a king won't be ignored or disobeyed. I finally turn my head and look over at him. At the same time as I turn my head, he furrows his brows and looks furiously down at my face. He grasps my chin, forcing me to turn my head even more.
"Who laid a hand on you?" his voice is once again deep but now it has a dangerous undertone that makes me whimper slightly and close my eyes in fright. He squeezes my chin tighter trying to get a reaction out of me. I know that if I tell him of my farther it'll be hell for my younger sisters. At our encounter at the stable it was dark enough for me to hide it, but here by the window in full daylight, there's nothing I can do to conceal it.
After a few moments of him staring at me with pitch black eyes, he gives up and let go of my chin. He walks over to the dark wooded four poster bed and I can help but admire his strong form.
I'm having such a flare just watching him move I don't even realize he's walking back to me holding what looks like a heavy piece of fabric. I get to my feet walking closer to him. He folds out what I first thought was a thick blanket. He puts the heavy cloak over my shoulders, I put my arms through the fitted slits in the sides of the cloak. He quietly buttons it up and pulls up the wide hood. The dark blue fabric feels expensive and the white fur that rims the cloak all the way around is soft under my fingers.
YOU ARE READING
Spirit Warrior - The Keeper Of The Northern Gate
FantasyFolktales and legends are the essence of childhood, but there comes a time when they must be left behind. One must grow up. But when The Princess of Kaupa, is married off to the King of the Theas. What seems to be a match made by the avaricious Kin...