𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℂ𝕆𝕃𝕃𝔼ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ

Stable Hand 5/5

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This chapter was supposed to be out yesterday but my cat needed a minor surgery and then supervision while he recovered from the anesthesia. 

Consciousness came back to you in waves. You would wake up enough for someone to help you drink water or carry you to the restroom before you would drift off again. Despite that, you remembered flashes of things, here and there.

You remembered fingers playing with your hair. You remembered soothing words as someone replaced the cool towel on your forehead. You remembered being carried in sturdy arms. You remembered someone reading to you. You remembered someone gently feeding you some soup.

Your body felt like lead when you finally woke up. Your mind was still a little fuzzy, but you felt better by a lot. The room you were in was unfamiliar, clearly not your little alcove above the stable. 

The stables! You shot up, accidentally causing a coughing fit as you clutched your chest. It hurt to sit up and it hurt to cough. Just how long had you been sick for? And where exactly were you? You set the cool towel, which had fallen into your lap, into the bowl of cool water on the nighstand.

You stumbled as your feet hit the floor. When was the last time you had walked anywhere? Looking around the room, it seemed whoever had been caring for you would return soon. There was a fire gently crackling in the fireplace and a book was gently laid on a comfortable looking chair. 

You stumbled over to the window, drawing back the thick velvet curtain. Outside you could see the last bit of sunset, or sunrise, as the sky was mostly dark. A sudden rush of black spots in your vision had you feeling sick and lightheaded. You collapsed onto the windowsill, your forehead pressed into the cool glass as you tried to breathe.

You couldn't make yourself move when the door opened, or when you heard a sharp gasp. Instead you let the person gently pull you into their arms and carry you back to the bed. Your vision was flickering in and out of focus as your breathing became labored.

"You should've stayed in bed." A familiar voice said. The cool towel was placed back on your forehead.

"Your highness?" You whispered. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you talked.

"Shush. Just call me Gaston. Or, better yet, don't talk at all." He says, taking the chair at your bedside. 

"What-?"

"You're awake!" Standing in the doorway, holding a tea tray, was the princess. "Gaston you idiot! Why didn't you tell me they were awake?!"

"Obviously because they just woke up Adela. Be a dear and fetch mother and father, yes?"

"Why don't you do it? You're already standing after all." It was clear the two were about to start arguing again.

"Both of you are idiots." A new voice stated. The youngest prince, Ash, was standing in the doorway with the king and queen following him. 

"Whats going on?" You whispered. You were overwhelmed and very confused. Why was the entire royal family looking at you like you were some kind of precious jewel? Where was Mister Riley? Who was looking after the horses? "I- I need to-!"

"Oh no dear. You don't need to do anything." The queen said, a gentle smile on her face. "Ash, Gaston, Adela. Could you three go get the bowl of broth I asked for from the kitchens? I think me and your father need to talk to them really quick."

It took some grumbling for her to convince the siblings to leave. The quiet that followed might've been peaceful if you weren't so anxious and disoriented.

"The stable master, Riley, says you're his star stable hand. Although, you are also his only one. It's quite impressive how high quality your work is, considering your age." The king started, though his face fell when he mentioned your age.

"Yes. I don't think the horses have ever looked better. Don't worry about them, we brought in some outside help while waiting for your recovery." The queen assured you. "Although that does beg the question of how exactly you did end up here. Especially with how young you are."

You could only manage a shrug. You had no parents, just Mister Riley. He always said he found you, abandoned, when you were a toddler. When he asked around, no one had known your parents, so he'd kept you.

"We thought as much. That is why we'd like to offer you a more... formal role in the palace. Ah, don't speak. Just listen." The queen said. "Instead of being in the stables all day, you could join us. Here as another member of our family."

You stopped breathing. Your eyes were wide as your mind tried to grapple with what was being offered to you. You, the stable hand who just wanted to enjoy your days, would become royalty? 

"You don't need to say anything. Just nod 'yes'. That's all we need, sweetheart." The king said, smiling at you warmly. "All you need to do is nod yes and you'll be taken care of, provided for, for the rest of your life. You'll have siblings who adore you, parents who love you. Everything you've ever wanted will be right at the tip of your fingers. Just nod yes."

You nodded.

You were the one that said yes. You were the one that agreed to their love, to their possesiveness and over protectiveness. It was all you. That was something you would be reminded of every time you complained or tried to create some distance. It was all your own choice. You locked your own cage. You sealed your own fate. Now, you were paying the price.