I sensed there was something else he wasn’t telling me. Nicholas opened and closed his mouth then. Almost as if he was
going to say something before changing his mind. With a shake of his head, he opened the door to the side entrance, gesturing
for me to walk inside. “I hope Talia is doing ok. My sudden departure must have caused her great distress.”
“It caused many people to become panicked and your mother—I am told—is still in a rage.”
My eyes widened at his words. I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy with my choices, but it was the only path I could take.
They left me no other choice. I had to escape the horrid fate they had set for me. I wasn’t about to marry my disgusting, abusive
uncle.
“How do you know all this?” I asked curiously.
We set to walking up the main set of stairs, everyone stopping and bowing at Nicholas wherever he went. Some cowered in
fear as they bowed, making me wonder what kind of ruler he was. I had only witnessed those few minutes of him shouting at
his sister. I wondered if he was like that constantly, or just during court.
“Ornella, your father would often send spies to my court. Do you believe I wouldn’t send any in return?”
“My father wouldn’t do such a thing,” I whispered.
“Of course he would. Every king would do anything to get ahead of his enemy. But, I’m afraid what he didn’t foresee was
me coming in and winning.”
Winning? What did he mean by winning? My mind raced with all the possible answers. He came for me. He mentioned that
a few times when I saw him in the woods and again when he showed up in my bedroom. It was only when I asked him to take
me, that he finally acted.
“What do you mean by winning?” I demanded.
We reached the wing where his bedroom was, along with his study and a number of other rooms. My mind whirled, playing
his words over again. Nicholas stopped at a door to his right, opening it in silent invitation and waiting for me to enter.
The bedroom was much like the one I'd been staying in since my arrival. However, the wood was far darker, nearly black
in colour. His bed was dressed in what looked to be a black silk comforter. Four bed posts stood easily ten feet tall, draped in
wrap around curtains that matched the bedding. I imagined he closed them every evening to keep the sunlight out in the
mornings.
I could picture him lying in that bed all alone. Taking up the centre with his tall frame. His hair would melt into the silk,
unlike mine. Mine would stand out like a flame in the night, and by the feel of his eyes on me as I examined his bed---that is
something that must have already crossed his mind.
“Princess, by you coming with me of your own free will, I succeeded where my family couldn’t.”
Gesturing to the emerald, green chaise placed in front of the fire, he watched me patiently. I crossed the room and sat down,