Valentine.

Fit for a Queen.

For full experience, readers are encouraged to read with the music.

It is now morning, and I stare back at my reflection in the vanity as I sit frozen in place. These last few days have gone much better than I ever could've imagined. Valentine and I have been spending more and more time together, slowly picking up what remnants had been left of our old lives. We'd even began sleeping in the same bed again.

Despite how normal things felt, how well things were going and how comforting the time we'd spent together had been, I still couldn't seem to shake that tugging feeling in my gut. That ever-present fear of him losing his temper again. Of him hurting people. And then there was Henry's face, forever haunting the back of my ever-sprawling thoughts. What Valentine had done to him that night...I don't think I could ever erase.

My thoughts are instantly interrupted by that enticing scent that I'd come to know so well. Through the vanity's reflection, I catch glimpse of Valentine's polished form casually leaning against the bedroom door.

His hair is once again, gelled back with the exception of his usual stubborn streaks. A crisp white evening shirt paired with smooth black slacks hang from his tall frame. My eyes linger on his neckline peeking through the few unfastened buttons adorning the length of his glowing shirt. Sparkling gems line the cuff of his sleeves, further drawing attention to the glistening purple of his eyes. That icy gaze. One that could save, just as easily as it could kill. 

As his aurora casts an ever-present halo around the length of his full form, making him appear even more surreal, I whirl around in my stool to face him.

"Why so formal?" I ask nonchalantly nodding at his attire.

"We are going out" he simply states, refocusing his attention down to my loosened robe. My right sleeve has slightly fallen from my shoulder, and his mark shone bright and clear, almost sparkling under the sun's warm rays.

Once glance at the widening smirk playing on his lips, and I can already tell that whatever he is itching to tell me, chances are I'm not going to love it.
Deciding not to ruin to the streak we've been on by starting a battle I would end up losing anyway, I give in.

"Where to?" I sigh, trying my best to conceal the bursting curiosity and confusion in my voice.

"The Square" he states plainly.

I let out a long, defeated grunt thinking back to his long list of publicity stunts and how he'd always drag me to them. The fleeting thought that he'd somehow changed over the past few years since my escape quickly scurries its way out of my mind.

The square was where the bulk of Valentine's townspeople resided. It was where he made his frequent addresses to the public and built relationships. Where his politics sang throughout the realm as he bartered for the approval of each and every court-member to ensure he retained favor. Though, truth be told, this was nothing more than a mere formality. Valentine's mere might and power alone was threat enough to any souls bold enough to dare consider any form of rebellion or uprising. Plus, he was a fair and just enough ruler, where his people were calm and content. Whether it be out of fear or respect didn't matter now, and probably never would.

"And I'm guessing there's no use in arguing right? This is more of a command?" I inquire half sarcastically. Though I am deeply annoyed, I will myself to remain calm and centered... both for his sake and mine.

"By all means, if you'd rather we stay here and argue- " he mutters sluggishly easing himself out of his lounging position against the doorframe. Suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye, he is centimeters away cornering me against the dresser.