Rogues and Royals never mixed. It was only normal in our world ever since a rogue attack killed the only daughter of the Royal family.
We'd been tortured for years, hiding in small villages, barely surviving off of what we had and fearing the day t...
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• Everleigh •
If there was one thing I learned from mama at a young age, it was to never trust anyone.
Especially the people involved with the royal family.
I learned that the hard way, and realized her words had more truth than any word spoken from another's mouth. It was one of the many reasons why mama was the only person I trusted.
For years we'd been murdered, tortured, ripped away from a normal life. As if that wasn't enough, the King decided he'd make our lives more of a living hell than it already was.
Rogue deaths raised to higher numbers in a single month than 5 years of death rates before his rule. The psychopath was only out for blood, his armies raiding village after village every single day to the point they'd kill themselves before getting murdered by the hands of his evil work.
He was sick
The new king had no remorse, he was set on getting rid of us all until our dead bodies were the only proof of rogues existing on this Earth.
And like the sick psycho he was, he'd take some as slaves, make them work in the palace under his rule with no food or water until they died, their last memory in this world being a servant to the man who'd murdered all their families.
No one liked the king
If anyone did it was out of the mere fact that if they'd been seen disrespecting his royal highness another life would be added on to the king's deadly hands.
I vowed years ago to never let his name slip from my mouth, ever.
We had no chance for freedom anymore because of him, all we could do was run. There wasn't a single day where I wasn't fearing for my life, for Ethan's life.
But somehow, our village hadn't been found by the royal army.
Yet
We'd only managed to get this far because of luck that'd been hanging onto a string growing weaker as each day passed. A string being held by his bloody hands, taunting us, giving us some sort of hope just so he can crush it under his bloody palm.
Most people in the village had given up after that realization. It got to a point where every time we'd move to safer land nearly a quarter would stay behind, practically waiting for their deaths.
There wasn't many of us left, not here anyways.
The village was eerily quiet today, save for the fact nearly everyone was drained, tired, and losing more hope every day that passed.
The sun was going down, and we'd have to go through another cold night once again. Starting a fire would give away our hideout to the royal army, the last thing any of us here wanted.
