Love Doesn't Discriminate

Running

I stood up promptly and dusted my dress off. I notice a small tear by my thigh and pull it down to hide my bare leg, blushing. I bow and avert my eyes from those of the king. The king smirked and whispered something inaudible to the man next to him who then stepped towards me.

"Hello miss" The man said in a deep voice. The shop owner gave me a look as if to wish me the worst luck. "His majesty has requested your name" The man continued" I freeze and stutter as I struggle to remember my name. "Miss?"

"I-I'm Margaret Bennet" I push the words out of my throat and look up once again making eyes contact with the king who simply stared at me an unreadable expression on his face. "I m-must go" I say awkwardly excusing myself much to the surprise of the king and the man and to the anger of the shop keeper as I still held his coins in my clenched fist. I quickly turned and ran as fast as I could through the streets. I ran until my legs ache and until I saw my little home. I attracted many stares as I ran but I didn't even notice. All I could think of was that the king would surely want my head for something like this.

I burst through the door and collapsed on the floor. My concerned mother cupped her hands around my face and wiped the tears that now stung my eyes away.

"Peggy? What happened sweetheart?" She whispered to me.

"I-I'm sorry mother." I choke on my tears that now appeared to be waterfalls cascading down from my puffy eyes and onto my rosy cheeks.

"What happened?" My mother said, her voice soothing me like it always had when I was younger.

"He's gonna... k-kill me" I cry harder and my tears wet the wood of the floor.

"Who's going to kill you?" My mother said her voice beginning to drip with anger.

"K-king George" I cry. My mother stares unsure how to comfort me as she was completely aware there was nothing she could do if the king truly wanted to hang me. "He c-caught me" I continue.

"I- you- just hide" My mother begins to push around the few old pieces of furniture in the room awaking my brother who slept on the chair by the door. I lay on my stomach and wiggle until I'm underneath our bench and my mother begins to put blankets on top of the seat letting them drape over the edges and curtain my body hiding me from the world, from the king. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and my mother quickly opened it only to be greeted by a man. I recognize the voice immediately as the deep one of the man who was talking to the king.