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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➖NIKOLAS➖
• P A S T •
"Kill them."
I look at the two boys in front of me. My hand is tight around a sword my father gave me. It's too large for my small hand.
My face is frozen as I look at the two boys. My eyes feel empty, my heart isn't racing, my hands aren't shaking in fear. I wasn't afraid as I felt my father's cold glare on the side of my head, why wasn't I crying?
I didn't want to do this.
They were the same age as me, they looked different though. Maybe it was the fear in their eyes, or the tears falling down their faces. Maybe I wasn't used to the sound of cries coming from a ten year olds mouth.
They watched me the same way the mirror would look back at me, nothing but a monster. Both of them were crying, loudly, begging for mercy.
I wanted to tell them it was no use crying. I learned the hard way what crying did. No one ever came to me when I cried, no one ever pitied me as I was forced blood on my hands by my father.
I turn my head, looking at my father only to see a reflection of myself in his eyes. He motions to my sword, waiting on me to kill the two boys who'd gotten caught stealing food to feed rogues.
"She was a mother, she needed food for her baby." One of the boys cry out all of a sudden. He's shaking, his face is swollen and covered in tears. Even the words he spoke sounded stumbled over, like he was speaking faster than he could think.
I look at him for a moment, my brain trying to process the explanation behind his words.
"Why would a mother care for her baby?" I speak for the first time since I'd been called to go to my father's office.
I never spoke much before my father, I never spoke much at all. I didn't want to speak to anyone. It worked out for me, no one wanted to talk to a murderer.
I watch the boy, waiting for an answer. He only stares at me in horror.
"You're a monster!" He screams at me. I blink back in confusion.
"Do you have no heart?" The other boy cries as I turn my head towards him. I stand there, and like a monster disguised as a child I watch them with empty eyes. Large eyes, still holding baby fat on my cheeks, still pulling out my baby teeth.
