Serpent in Shackles

Chapter Five

I laid across one of the benches in the courtyard. Leila sat at the end of the bench with my feet resting in her lap and a book buried tightly between her fingers. The spine was heavily cracked, proof of how much she loved that one particular chapter.

Unlike me, she had a lot of sophisticated hobbies. She loved to paint, draw, and read. My hobbies were more rugged so I was forced to give them all up when I became engaged to the Prince.

I watched the soldiers train for a bit, but seeing their poor form and mistakes only irritated me more.

Darkness took over as I closed my eyes, ready to go back to sleep. Despite the hard metal digging into my shoulders, I easily drifted off into another world.

My mind slipped away into my daydream, fantasizing about flying over the Kingdom in the arms of a strong, sexy man. He would set me down gently as we descended into a meadow, with other faceless figures. Our children would sprint over to us and my heart would melt as I watched the handsome man lift one of our children into his arms.

The image first appeared to me in a dream a long time ago. One that recurred in my dreams ever since. It often occupied my daydreams as well as I found myself getting lost in that unfamiliar meadow. I assumed it was my subconscious way of coping with my life, a form of escape from the terrible reality I found myself in. But the most bizarre thing was that the man in the dream looked oddly similar to the-

A shadow hovered over me, blocking my face from the sun as my mind slipped out of the dream. But I couldn't be bothered to open my eyes, so I merely said, "you're blocking my sun, jackass."

"The King wants to see you."

Seconds later, I was hauled off the bench with a hand wrapped tightly around my wrist.

I stumbled forward, trying to catch my balance beneath me as the guard pulled me behind him.

Leila lept from her place on the bench, clutching her book in her hand. "Get your hands off of her or I'll ram this book down your throat," she barked.

The guard scoffed.

He gasped as I stuck my foot out in front of his, knocking him into the grass and yanked my hand from his painful grip.

"I can walk myself there," I growled, straightening the crinkled fabric of my dress. "Touch me again and I'll break that hand."

I rolled my eyes just as Leila did.

...

Tension crept through my shoulders, my stomach, my entire body as I walked through the plain mahogany doors of the throne room.

The room was nearly empty, save for the throne and the marble light and dark emerald carpet embroidered with gold, that led from the door directly to the base of the throne.

The King rested casually in the seat, the usual expression on his face. A grin, cruel and sinister, ever concealing his true intentions. His right arm was bent, elbow resting against the dark wood arm as his chin settled on top of his hand. The other arm draped over the bent knee tucked up to his chest.

The moment I passed through the doorway, his eyes tracked my every movement.

I rubbed my wrist gently, trying to soothe the lingering ache from the guard's grip as I strode up the carpeted path. "Your Majesty, can you tell your guards that if they keep trying manhandle me, I will break all their-" I cut myself off as soon as I saw them.

The same trio from the other night.

Bastards.

The King stared me down with his wicked, dark brown eyes. Even with the anger lingering on his face, his body was relaxed. Almost a bit too much. "Well you certainly know how to take your time, my little viper."