Madalin is a member of a royal family that rules over a country named Lysteria. She's brave, bold, smart, yet gentle and caring all the same. The princess dreams of running away from the shackles of a royal life, while her parents try to keep her ca...
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"Have you heard of that one phrase? Something along the lines of 'A wolf in sheep's clothing'?"
Hadrian's body was sprawled casually on the throne's seat, where his back was against one armrest and his legs were hanging from the other. Smoke rose from his mouth as he removed the cigar from between his lips and breathed out a puff, with his eyes fixed at a wall somewhere.
I felt myself propel forward after a pair of hands shoved me from behind, then the sound of doors being shut echoed. I was far too aghast at the sight before me that I couldn't feel anger at the guard's tactic. My head was tilted at an angle, my lips were separated, and my ability to think was nowhere to be found.
No.
A haunting chuckle emanated from him and forced a shiver down my back. He dropped his head to one side so he could observe me. Kohl lined the bottom of his eyes, highlighting their jade color as well as the cruelty on his face. He was wearing the same ceremonial uniform he had worn during my parents' ball.
The only difference was, patches of dark red decorated his outfit.
Hadrian slid his legs off of the armrest and stomped them on the ground, before hoisting himself off the seat. One of his hands lazily combed through his messy strands that were slipping from underneath a gold crown resting atop his head. The other hand was hovering nearby his mouth, the cigar inches away from the lips curled in a disturbing grin.
He walked not like a noble prince from a neighboring country called Milesun.
Hadrian walked like the king of a throne he had acquired through inhumane means.
Every step of his was aimed in my direction. A trembling began at the top of my fingers. It travelled up to my hands, then my arms, then eventually my entire body. I was shaking uncontrollably, and when he stopped right before me, a helpless sigh resounded from me.
"Well, I'd say I'm a wolf in royal clothing."
His eyes flashed with what appeared to be triumph. The burnt smell of ash filled my nose when he inhaled through his cigar and exhaled out to the side, his chilling gaze never leaving mine.
I didn't know who he was. The man surely looked exactly like Hadrian, as was his voice identical. But that wasn't the prince whose death cracked my sanity.
As if reading my thoughts, he leaned forward just when he outstretched a hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, princess."
His smirk mocked and belittled me. Everything about his statement was condescending, despite the wave of deja vu that washed over me. I had to recall a time when he had said the same exact words, where the circumstances were entirely different.
"Oh, my bad-" He corrected himself as he pulled his hand away and held it up defensively.
"You're not Princess Madalin anymore. You're Her Majesty, Queen Madalin of Lysteria."
