Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Kingdom Of Lies

My throat is coarse and feels as if I have swallowed glass from the way I had screamed at the three servants to get out of my quarters. 

They had spent their time, running the bath, assorting the lush soaps, leveraging me into the warm water – And I had allowed them to do all that they needed, mixing my violent silence with their peaceful and quiet breaths; But as soon as they began to scrub the soaps onto my skin, where the mud and soot lay dry from falling back at the orchards – Is when I finally snapped, though I hadn't thought that the build up to my ferocity was ever growing in the stillness.

I stare at the marble walls as the heated tendrils which rise from the soapy water, linger in the air and attempt to carry my agitation off into wherever my mind had gone in this hopeless and dead stare that my eyes give – But it's no use, no matter how coaxing and halcyon the popping bubbles in the water may be, nothing can get rid of the stiffness in my bones nor the panic in my brain.

Though now stuck in this ravenous stare, every-time, when the air finally sticks to my eyes, drying out all the moisture and smacking a deserted sting into the corners, I see her face when I blink.

She holds a potent expression of sheer terror as the StormTroopers carry her away. Her eyes are wide, her knuckles white and her limbs trembling against their strength to her starving muscles. 

Her features look much like mine, although that was all we now held in similarities. It was only the complexion matched with our hair colour and length, that was it. Other than that, our lives were completely different since that day where we both and some other girls, were torn from the orchards, only for her to return and me, stay where the Troopers had taken us.

My stomach was full, almost to the point of nausea inducing and yet, she still starved. My skin was clean everyday, her's was only bathed in dirt and hard labour – And I can't help but wondering that when she looked towards my crown with such a demeaning glare, did she grow a burning hatred that it was me chosen? Or did she pity me?

Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

I sigh to myself and break myself out of my daze when my eyes begin to burn once more to the point where, when I do eventually blink, a slight rapture of tears forms when I reopen them – Clearly wishing for a needed slumber to lay this adrenaline and fear to rest. 

Then swallowing harshly, my left fist curls underneath the water around the sliver of circled gold and when it begins to press harshly into my palms, causing a pain to distract the inner terror I posses, I pull it from drowning beneath the water and open my fist to lay my eyes upon it, instead of the polished marble walls.

The piece of gold was incredibly new, fresh and shiny – It is worth a little to the rich but to the poor, this piece means wealth for at least two weeks, three if you spent it wisely. I had never been paid in gold, only silver pennies and it is surprising that the orchard girl hadn't spent it, for I knew that if I was in her place, the moment Ruby would have dropped it into my hand, I would have already spent it in my own head. 

Why had she kept it? Was she waiting for the right thing or the right moment to spend it – Surely not, otherwise she wouldn't have shoved it into my grip, without a peering eye to even see? 

I furrow my brows, stuck in a stare of utter perplexity and repeat the same phrase which ran marathons in my head, out loud, beneath my breath, "Nothing makes sense." 

Bubbles still lay slain across the face of the coin, but when I swipe my thumb across it to remove the strawberry-scented coat of white, I am met with the etching of the late King's profile, his long nose tilted to the left and his eyes as dead as his heart truely is, in the glaze, which without the shine, the gold looked colder than ice – Colder than his own compassion.