Marry or Kill

10

M I N A

I bolt upright, my hair a tangled mess, a restless night of escape replaying in my mind like a cruel loop of torment. Thoughts of leaving consumed me like an unrelenting obsession.

But as my weary eyes drift to the side of the room, they land on a sight that incites a storm within me – a stunning dress hangs on my wardrobe, taunting me with its presence, and a vase filled with flowers stands beside it.

The bandage around me is no longer stained with blood, a mysterious rebandage that I dismiss with a dismissive grunt.

Fueled by a rage that courses through my veins, I rise from the warm bed covers, my leg surprisingly light.

For a moment, I pause. The antidote.

Yesterday's events crash back to me in waves. Golden rays from the sunset reach my hand, turning my paler complexion a warm, golden colour.

A jade ring blinks back at me.

I suck in my breath, leaving the ring on.

The air in the room thickens with the scent of the flowers as I near the vase, an assault on my senses, and as fury knots in my stomach, I seize the vase.

With a primal scream, I hurl it towards the door.

The crash echoes in the room, bellowing off the walls, a mighty symphony of shattered glass and fractured porcelain. The remnants lie scattered across the floor.

Without hesitation, I step closer, avoiding the shards that could cut my feet, and stoop to gather the sharpest fragment.

Silence eerily echoes in the room as I stand amidst the wreckage of the shattered vase. I strain my ears, waiting for any sign that my outburst has drawn attention, but there's nothing—not even a flicker of a response, no indication that the unseen guard outside my door has flinched.

My steely gaze returns to the formal dress hanging on the wardrobe. A grim determination takes over as I reach for it, fingers grazing the soft, dark fabric.

I inspect it with a mix of resentment and resignation, knowing all too well that I'll likely have no choice but to wear it.

I'd do anything to get out of this room, too.

I strip off my nightgown, discarding it to the side. The formal dress engulfs me as I slip into its dark embrace.

It clings to my form, a cascade of black fabric that feels like an extension of the shadows. The dress seems to reach down like obsidian talons stretching off me.

Inside the small pocket of my dress, I slide the shard inside.

The sharp knocks on the door reverberate through the room, jolting me to turn to the door. Each sound resonates like ominous cracks, shattering my running thoughts.

Elias stands before me, clad in a black suit that mirrors my dress with an eerie precision. His gaze, like a tactile caress, travels up and down the length of my attire, an unsettling admiration lurking in his eyes.

The air thickens with a disconcerting silence as our eyes lock, a wordless exchange that hangs between us.

His scrutiny unsettles me, and I resist the urge to wrap myself in the shadows of the room. The stillness lingers, an unspoken tension, until Elias's eyes shift downward.

His gaze settles on the shattered vase beneath his shoes, a mere inconvenience. His features betray a subtle crease, a minimal acknowledgment of the disturbance

"What an inconvenient way of you to express your dislike for the flowers." Elias gracefully strides over the shattered remains of the vase, his steps crushing the porcelain fragments beneath his polished shoes with a subtle crunch.