Wilting Rose

~Chapter 2~

It had been days since the choosing and the king had called us all to the grand hall. Servants included. "I have found our future queen. Zion please read out her name my son." The King said.

"Maeve Wood, please come to the stage."

I gulped, again. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. By the time I had made it to the stage, I could feel every single person's eyes staring into me, their hot gazes like fire scorching me. "Um, hi."

Dozens of shouts erupted from the audience:
"She set this up"
"She's poor"
"Servant"
"Worthless"
"She was the one that said about security"
"Fake"
"I call bull shit"
"Liar"

If I could take it all back I would. I would go back to my simple life in the countryside, free from the pressure and burdens of life and society.

The prince held out his hand and I took it. They were clammy and strong, he helped lift me up the final stair and pulled me to his side. He was going to be my husband. He was nice and all but not the one. Maybe he would grow on me? He smiled softly at me, taking in all my features. Suddenly I felt naked. It felt like we were alone and he was inspecting me, making sure I was fit for the job. I felt vulnerable and lost, like the scared little girl I was when my parents died. But I wasn't her any more.

"So child please tell me which high house you come from?" The King asked.
My response was stuttered, " I-I'm not sir."
"Hmm" He was thinking then, about what? I would've thought my clothes would give it away but apparently not. "Maeve wood, Maeve Wood, let me think, nope nothing are you a servant?" The King asked. He grimaced with distaste at the word servant and I wasn't sure wether to be offended or grateful.

"I'm a servant your majesty, I used to live on a farm until my parents..." Was my response, I couldn't say the word, wouldn't, I'd never said it out loud before.

"Until your parents what child?" The King pushed.

"Until they ......." Nope I could't do it.

Tears began to threaten to flood out of my eyes. I blinked viciously, I wouldn't cry here, not in front of so many people. "Hey, you ok." Zion whispered only loud enough for me to hear. He squeezed my arm in assurance and nudged me with his shoulder.

" I can't say the words they I um I can't won't haven't they don't um.."

"They're gone aren't they!" He asks gently.

I nod my head slowly, tears seconds away from turning into waterfalls.

"Her parents are dead." Zion says for me, he gave me another squeeze on the arm and whispered sorry to me. I was surprised at how blunt he said it and it had worked magic I guess, as my tears had for some reason buried themselves away.

"Father we are going to head to my room so I can get to know miss Maeve." Zion states.

The was no can we, I would like to, is it ok if. Oh no the prince was too good for that, he had to say we are going to. He beckoned me to follow him and like an eager puppy, I did.

He began explaining which way he was going and which path led to where but I was too focused on my future, the fact that I wouldn't get to see my foster family ever again. I was engaged to someone I didn't love! "We're here!" His sudden exclamation brought me back to reality. His voice vibrated confidence, perfect for a King.

His room was full of armour and war books, plans for non existent wars. Everything was just so, war focused. I certainly didn't want to marry a man who was so engrossed in war he didn't do anything else. Zion was obsessed. Other than the war his room was pretty normal, well as normal as a princes room could be. The bed had gold detailing and so did the desk and wardrobes. Piles of paper work were stacked neatly on the desk. A curtain probably made from silk hung limp, covering most of the window. As my eyes had hovered over to it. Zion followed my gaze and briskly drew it shut. Goodbye sunlight.

"So.." He said.
I smiled softly, unsure of what else to do but still remembering my manners. He began to tap his fingers impatiently on the desk. Of course he's impatient too. I'm unsure of what I should do, I mean I'm in the presence of a prince. The future King!

"Tell me about yourself, because you probably know all about me." He says.

"Um well I grew up on a farm and then my parents went missing and I was sent to foster care. Then I became a servant because that was what they did for work." Was my reply. He still hadn't stopped tapping and he had rolled his eyes by the time I had finished.

"Already know that." He snorted.

"Ok, um my favourite colour is purple and I love cheeseburgers."

He giggled and then tilted his head again, strange he had a habit for it. I realised he probably didn't mean that and I'd just messed up. My cheeks began to flush red, I was a living tomato. My eyes found the floor and stayed there. Maybe if I didn't look at him it would be fine. He lifted my head up with his hand. But it wasn't gently, he did it like I had just insulted what he cared most about, probably the crown. He looked me dead I'm the eyes. Tilted his head. Grabbed my shoulders and pushed me onto the bed. He began to get closer. One step. A smile. I moved to the side.

"I should probably go find another outfit that's more um suitable for a um palace." I said, it was to quickly. I sounded desperate but I was; what was he going to do?