A Glimpse Into My Mind

The Art of Cruelty

For once, I am thankful for the tears that blur my eyes, the tears that make my vision hazy enough to be blinded.

I don't want to see his face. I can't. His silhouette is bad enough.

My eyes skirt from his face to his arm where his sword is outstretched, pushing against her neck. Her neck. My baby sister who kneels beside this wicked king, bound and beaten, blood and dirt coating her body, contrasting the king's clean, chiseled look. This young, wicked king, who has only ruled for a year. We, my once wealthy family, have lost everything because of him, his inexperience, his ignorance.

At the sight of my tears falling away, the king smiles, pressing his sword harder against Mae's throat. A soft whimper escapes her.

"Please," I say, my voice cracking. "I beg of you; don't-" I begin, but am cut off by the king's booming voice.

"Get on your knees," he declares, lifting a dark brow, paired with a smirk. I stare, processing his words. He stands, waiting. "Beg," he spits again.

Defiance boils in my blood, rushing through my veins, heating every part of my body, and the air around me. My tears stop immediately.

I bow to no one. I was once royalty. I was once a princess. People bowed to me. I do not bow to anyone, let alone the cruel tyrant before me.

"Bow. Or else, princess," he purrs, moving his blade the slightest bit, drawing blood from Mae's neck. She presses her lips together, tears streaking in the dirt on her face.

I swallow, new tears filled with rage sparking in the corners of my eyes. My knees slowly give out, my body fighting against every movement I was never meant to do, dropping me to the ground, forcing me to bow to the man before me. My body fights against the submission. I stifle my sobs, my eyes trained on the ground.

"Please," I whimper. "Don't hurt her."

The cold metal of his blade touches my chin, forcing me to look at him. Our eyes meet, his merely inches from mine. The smell of his ever manly scent makes me want to pass out, but I keep his gaze, looking into his dark eyes.

"When you want to beg, darling, do it properly," he whispers so quietly I am sure that I am the only one that can hear him.

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