The Knight's Rose

Chapter Thirty-Seven ~ The Roots of a Rose ~ Part Three

Chapter Thirty-Seven ~ The Roots of a Rose ~ Part Three

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Rose's POV

My eyes began to burn and my throat tightened enough where it became hard to breathe. My poor mother had gone through so much. My body trembled as I brought my hand to cover my lips, to muffle my sobs.

"I made the mistake of telling my father I wanted her and instead of giving me a chance to woo her, he took her as retribution. Bought her from her village as if she were cattle and had no choice on the matter. The village gave her up easily in exchange for not having to pay their taxes for that year. I could only imagine how betrayed, lonely, and angry she felt at how life dealt with her so cruelly."

I watched as Zaros shook his head slowly, his eyes had grown blank as he stared straight ahead. As if he were reliving it. Over and over again.

"He knew she would never love me. I lost every opportunity when her grandparents died and she wasn't allowed to go back to bury them. I tried everything in my power to make her love me but nothing was ever good enough. I came to a realization that I would never be good enough and that made me furious.

My heart turned to stone and I became everything my father hoped I'd become. I became cruel, ill tempered, quick to punish without any thought. Five years later, my father died and I was pronounced as King. His last words to me were that he was proud of me, I had successfully become the monster he had hoped."

My father scoffed and for a minute I saw his eyes glimmer before he blinked it away.

Him knowing he would never be good enough reminded me so much of myself. Maybe my father and I were similar after all.

"Your mother had become pregnant with you and for a while, my life was blissful. I adored you the moment you were born. Your brown eyes and loud giggles touched my heart and I was grateful. Grateful that you looked nothing like me and I promised myself that I wouldn't allow any of my darkness to touch you. You were the prettiest part of me.

"Two years later, I found myself at the end of a sword by a group of my people who planned to overthrow me. They were tired of paying their taxes to a cruel king that could care less about them. I was angry, livid at their lack of loyalty, so I ordered for their beheading."

"Your mother, who had heard of their story, came to their defense. I still remember that day so vividly. She came to me with you on her hip. She knew you were my weakness. She wore her favorite yellow dress, her hair pinned up and she had the most loveliest of pearls on her dainty neck.

"Beautiful, I had thought before the blackness of my anger consumed me when she opened her mouth to defend those traitors. Traitors, I had thought back then, but now I realized they were only hungry men who simply wanted to feed their families."

His voice had grown rough as he struggled to continue to speak. Filled with so much emotion that he didn't know where to put it. How to handle it.

"I felt betrayed that she could take their side and we yelled at each other. I couldn't handle her disrespect, and the scum I was, I resorted to violence to teach her a lesson. I backhanded her so hard she fell to the ground. My rage blinded me and I had forgotten for a moment that she was holding you. When she fell, she accidentally dropped you and you hit your head against my desk. I remember your painful cries, the blood dripping from your head, the wounded look on your face."

My father's face twisted in pain, as if he couldn't bear the thought of remembering. I wanted to tell him that he needn't continue but my mouth was glued shut. Instead, I could only allow the tears to slip down my face, and caress my cheeks with sadness.