Gold Weaver | ✓

fünf

FÜNF

When I woke up— which was a shock to me, honestly— I didn't recognise anything around me. I was in a small room, that much I could tell, with stone walls and flooring. The only light I was getting was from a small window to my right, on the other side of the room. There was a door in front of me, oak by the looks of it.

Everything suddenly came crashing down on me.

I'm about to be executed, I thought to myself, panic clutching me. This is the waiting cell.

I forced my aching and wobbling legs to hold me upright and stumbled my way over to the window. It was too small to get a person through and I realised, as I looked down, it was several hundred feet up. Despite it being almost pitch black, I could just about see the top of a tree way below.

"Oh my god," I said to myself, over and over, holding my head as I felt a migraine come on. "This can't be happening."

"Oh, but it is." A voice behind me said.

I spun round so quickly I almost toppled over.

King Roland looked so out of place standing in this little room. In all his regal grandeur, he seemed too big for the space. His mousy hair had been kept perfectly dry and styled, a dramatic difference to my drenched form.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Would he really personally kill me?

Did he hate me that much?

"I'm not here to kill you, Eleanor," he said. "I'm here to tell you what's going to happen." I waited for him to continue. "You will stay here the night and you will turn all this straw into gold." I suddenly realised that all around me, stacks and stacks of straw was dumped around the room. "If you do not, you will be executed tomorrow morning. Understood?"

I nodded, too numb to speak.

He didn't ask why I'd run, even though by the look on his face I knew he knew why.

"How did you find me?"

"You underestimate me," he said, heading for the door. "And you overestimate yourself." With that, he went out the door, it making a resounding crash behind him.

I sat on the makeshift bed, hearing it crack and groan. Putting my head in my hands, I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

So much for a bright future— getting through university, getting a good job with a decent pay that I actually enjoyed— I thought miserably.

All of this because of one stupid, pathetic lie.

Was he telling the whole village what he'd done like he was proud to have betrayed his only daughter? Did he enjoy sleeping in that house alone last night, knowing I would never again sleep in the room above his?

I knocked on the door.

I could see the shoulder of the guard standing watch by my door. "Excuse me?" He still didn't move. "I really need the toilet."

"Hold it," came his tight lipped reply.

"I will pee myself and you'll have to stand through the night smelling it," I said, legs shaking from the cold and desperate urge to pee. "Your choice."