The King [Published]

Chapter 6

Annalise

The king is a vicious and cruel beast. The rumors are nothing compared to the horrors I've witnessed. I grab hold of the legs of what's left of the body, hoisting it up and into the cart. Out of all the slaves that arrived with me that day, I am the only one left. And I can only assume it is because I have not come into contact with the king since the day he took my necklace.

And that was weeks ago.

Since arriving I have lived a tortured hell. The food, if I can call it that, is barely edible. A slave is the closest thing to a rat. And they won't waste food on rats. The bread is molded and stale; the gruel is sour and old. And we are too low in their hierarchy to be given meat. They beat us for everything. The bruises that I saw on the slaves when I first arrived have now appeared on my skin as well. I have no hope. All I can do is wait for a servant to slip and end up killing me. If the king doesn't do so first.

I'm pulled from my thoughts as a servant rushes behind me, shoving me roughly in the process.

"What are you doing standing around? The king is waiting to be served!" she hisses at me. I look around in confusion, trying to find the right words.

"I'm not among the slaves that serve the king," I whisper.

She whips around, and I barely have time to register her fist coming toward my face. Pain explodes in my cheek as blood fills my mouth.

"How dare you talk back to me," she hisses.

She yanks me up by my throat and begins squeezing. And I slowly realize I can't breathe. I don't fight, though. I wait. I wait for the air to leave my lungs and my brain to shut down. My vision clouds as my brain panics from the lack of oxygen, but I force my instinct to fight down. I want this more than anything. And just when I think my wish has been granted, I'm let go. I fall to the ground, coughing and gulping in as much air as I can. When I look up, the Overseer is speaking to the servant that was choking me only seconds ago.

"Apologies, sir," she mumbles with her head down.

The Overseer looks down at me in disgust.

"It's your lucky night, slave. We are short of staff, so you will have to fill in until the new shipment of slaves arrives," he says.

He tilts his chin, studying my face before he speaks again.

"Have her cleaned and prepared for dinner. The king is expecting guests and I won't have a single mark on his reputation because of a filthy slave."

* * * * *

I stand in the grand dining hall with a crystal pitcher in my hands. I've been given the task of refilling the wine. Why they would trust me with such a hands-on task, I do not know. My head is throbbing from the beating I received only hours ago, and I can feel my cheek swelling as well.

I can only hope my disheveled appearance doesn't anger anyone else.

The doors open and in comes the nobles. They all walk in with their heads held high, beautiful gowns, and expensive jewelry; something I will never experience in this life. They file around the table standing behind their seats as they patiently wait for someone. Seconds later, the doors are opened and the king's arrival is announced. My eyes widen slightly at his appearance. He's wearing regal attire that has been fitted for his frame, and his hair has been released around him, with his crown holding it out of his face.

Everyone in the room bows.

"Your Majesty."

He nods in acknowledgment, gesturing to the table.