The Kings Spawn | ✔︎

3

"But I don't want to."

"It's okay to be selfish sometimes."

༒ ༒ ༒

"You can't just say it like that."

"Than what do I say Miltia? Didn't you came up with this foolish plan in the first place!" Mr. Alter retorts back, his bushy eyebrows drawn in.

I sit quietly, my mouth glued together as his roar bellows mercilessly in the spacious room, like a lion caught helplessly in a trap he peered angrily at his wife who was currently looking dejected.

You are going to be our hazel.

I repeated the sentence in my head, multiple times actually. But I got nothing; what did that even mean? Didn't I already belong to the Alter Family, wasn't I already there's? It didn't matter that they didn't have any legal proof, my freedom was cuffed the moment they decided to shove me into their sinful lives.

A reality I was currently having a hard time accepting.

"It's going to work out, I promise just leave it to me." Miltia soothes, letting her slender fingers run along her husbands neck.

"It better." Mr. Alter bites back, pushing her hand away harshly, "Forget your pride, you don't know what'll happen to our family if it's found out we let a mere commoner walk amongst his highness."

What in the buttery heck were they saying.

"His highness? Like royalty?" The words spill from my mouth in an abrupt whistle.

"Yes, the prince actually." Miltia answers, tilting her head towards me. She stood a mere distance away, her gaze hardened on me, her voice was distant and cold-unlike the sweet tone she catered just minutes before.

And in that moment, everything made sense.

How foolish was I to expect them to not have ulterior motives. It was obvious from the start but I brushed past the fact the whole ordeal felt like an interview, one I didn't consent to.

"I promise I'll make it work somehow, please trust me my lord." Miltia says, her voice dripping in desperation. Mr. Alter leans into her shoulder, the loving gesture to prove his acceptance. Than he walked out, a tired frown tugging against his lips.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like that." Miltia says as her husband exits the room.

She had not occupied the seat of her husband, rather she circulated around me like a predator watching its prey, carefully. I wasn't exactly sure if this was a ploy meant to intimidate me or anything, but if it was; the masquerade of two was surely working. I lower my hands, gulping down the saliva stuck in my throat.

"It's fine." I say, pushing the unshackled fear to the back of my mind.

Although I wasn't exactly the best at masking my emotions, the steady poker face I wore couldn't be underestimated. It was somewhere up there at the list of useless talents I'd acquired at Belarious, and trust me being in that lawless jungle having a decent one was necessary.

Miltia cleared her throat, shifting her weight to one side. She no longer seemed guarded, rather her face resembled a doll, stiff and unmoving. But I didn't miss the gloss in her eyes, filled with a sadness so great I couldn't fathom to imagine the darkness entrapped in them.

A darkness that had long consumed her.

"Do you know what's worse than watching your own child die." Her voice was stagnant, void of emotion. She had shut her eyes tightly as if the memories played on her lids, "Finding out that the ones closest to you were the ones behind it. Betrayal; it's a far worse pain."