The Dog Princess: A Tom Holland Fairy Tale

Monster

The next morning, Timothée begrudgingly made the dreadful walk down to the dungeon to retrieve Rosemary. He heard news from the medic that despite the severity, it was likely that Tom could survive his lashings and make a full recovery in time, aside from the usual scarring that occurs from such a beating. It would seem love even conquers the torture chamber. No matter the upper hand he had, he never felt like he was winning. He braced himself as he unlocked the door, opening it slowly to insure he didn't see anything he didn't want to. Rosemary was next to the post with Tom, who was no longer bound and his wounds all dressed with white bandages wrapped all around his back and chest. The slash on his face was uncovered, but the blood was cleaned and wound sealed. Tom's head rested in Rosemary's lap, lying on his stomach to avoid pain. She gently stroked his hair, looking up as Timothée entered.

"Time to go." Timothée said solemnly from the doorway.

Tom began to inch his way up, his wounds still so tender. He rose up onto his knees, taking Rosemary's hands as she began to weep softly. "It's going to be alright." He whispered, although he was unsure himself.

Rosemary leaned in swiftly, kissing him firmly. She hardly parted from his lips when she spoke. "I can't leave you."

"It's just for now, we'll be together again. I'm sure of it." He gave her another kiss in return, and then sweetly pecked her forehead before the pair stood up to face Timothée, who was shyly onlooking.

"Rosemary, go ahead and wait for me in our chamber while I call the guards to return." Timothée said, clearing his throat. "You should get ready. Your father expects you for a midday meal." Rosemary turned to look at Tom, and he nodded reassuringly. After a moment, she finally let go of his hand, rushing past Timothée with a cry and starting up the steps into the palace above. Tom watched wistfully as she ascended, truly wondering if that was the last glimpse he would have of her. Cautiously, he shifted his gaze to Timothée, who had also watched her go. Without looking at Tom, Timothée spoke to him sadly. "You're a good liar. I almost believed you."

"It's not lying if you truly have hope." Tom replied strongly, although his heart was sinking.

Timothée turned to him, and while Tom expected him to be more furious there was nothing more than a worn and sad stare. "You peasants are always so hopeful, and for what?"

"Well, the less you've got the more you've got to lose."

"That...I can understand." Timothée started toward him, grabbing a bit of rope from the wall. He called the guards from upstairs, and within minutes they came down, taking the rope from Timothée to bound Tom once again, this time just his hands together while leaving a longer piece for him to be led by. They tied that piece to the post for the time being before returning to their posts outside the door. Timothée was about to leave, but felt compelled to say one last thing to the man who caused him so much misery. "No matter your fate, I assure you...she'll be safe with me."

Tom scoffed. "I have trouble buying that. You cursed her again—"

"It will lift once we're wed—"

"Oh, but that's not what you intended! I was there!" Tom was feeling bolder now, not having much to lose, as his back was ripped up and he was surely being sent to his death tomorrow. "You wished to control her the rest of her life! What kind of monster does that? I hardly call that safe—let alone happy!"

"It is safe—and I never said she'd be happy! I'm working on that part..." The prince replied defensively.

"Let me know if you need any ideas." Tom said smugly, causing Timothée to go red in the face.

Timothée yanked the rope holding Tom, causing him to fall on his knees. He pulled up the rope make Tom look at him, their faces so close Tom could feel the heat of rage seeping from the prince's skin. "I don't care if I have to find two tigers to rig the doors—I'll make sure you're shred to ribbons tomorrow if you don't shut your filthy mouth!"