Cursed to Hide

Princess

           Amara paced, clutching the sides of her torso, gnawing at the ends of her hair, her eyes consistently shifting throughout the room. She noticed every sound beyond: the voices of various whispers, the slam of a metal door, the whistle from the kitchen stove, and the tinkering of nails against wood planks  caused her to become agitated and more persistent in her tasks.
           The trial had been no more than a mockery; it had nothing to do with justice. There were numbered opinions and open insults that were spat upon Jack. It was disgusting to witness. Jack had been charged with the crimes of murder, stealing, kidnapping, and trespassing; and he was sentenced to death by the beheading. Jack was to be the peak of the entertainment for tonight's festivities, and at the stroke of midnight, he would die.
            Everything was in place, they had a plan; Amara had no reason to feel this way. Why was her heart racing and her skin prickling with uncertainly? Amara had to convince herself that it was only her nerves. Their plan must go, right, for what else could they possibly do? She had to save him. She just had to. She had already lost Jack once; how could she bear to lose him again?
            "Liat...trinket?" The voice of roughly pulled silk paused her steps. Amara quickly removed her hair from her mouth, as the King approached her from behind his privacy screen.
             Marcaus wore a red vest with golden vines spirling to the middle of his belly that traced around golden buttons. His pants were flared white trousers with golden cuffs at the end. His dark hair was slicked back, and his crown glimmered in gold and precious stones, matching the tiara Amara wore.
              Amara bent down into a curtsy, lifting her gown towards the back of her head, revealing the ruffles under her skirt. "Your Majesty. You look truly dashing in your royal attire."
             The mist from his lips divided over the golden treasure as he leaned close, lifting her chin with his sausage finger. Those beautiful golden eyes lifted to him, causing the King to smirk. "Liat, you look stunning, though I wish you would have accepted my offer. A woman of your beauty should be admired in full detail." Marcaus's eyes became lustful, causing her to glance away. "I-I stand by my decision. I-I ask that you respect it." Her words shook as she responded.
"Why, of course, I'll respect your decision, trinket. After all, you are my wife, and a husband should be able to trust his spouse."
             Amara bit the inside of her cheek before King's voice rose again, "You know I had a lovely thought. At the festivities, I want you to sing for my guests; this will be your final performance to the public, after all."
            "That sounds like a pleasant idea, Your Majesty. Is there a certain song you would like me to sing?" Amara stood straight and clasped her hands to her middle, waiting for the King to respond.
             "Something romantic and somber...to help you feel a little sentimental." Marcaus's face twisted, kneeling to face her so they could be at eye level. "You do still love him, do you not?"
              Amara tried not to appear shocked as she shifted her eyes. "Who, Your Majesty?" The King's fingers scraped against the table, releasing a screech. Amara covered her ears, trying to block out the sound. "That traitor! That human bean you tried to run away with! Surely you can remember him?!" Amara laughed fearfully, "Jack? Why, of course not; how could I love him? He's just a boy with no family or fortune beyond what he has stolen from you. It would be foolish for me to love him, especially now that he is doomed to die."
            Marcaus pulled his hands away, his eyes glaring into his treasure's golden globes, looking for any sign of dishonesty, "I suppose that's true. However, I can recall how distant you become once he died." He shifted his fingers. "Locked yourself up and broke the lovely mirror that I gifted you. You refused to sing, and it hurt me dearly to force you." Amara couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes as the King continued, "And, of course, your constant screaming throughout the night."
             "You knew about that?" Amara turned to the King, who nodded, a look of sympathy coming over him, "Looking back, I should have done something differently, though, at the time, I was held in my gallows. Perhaps we wouldn't have suffered so long if we had come together much sooner."
              Amara nodded, glancing down. "I would have liked company. However, you were right about the boy; he betrayed me. I wish I didn't waste all those years crying for someone who never truly cared for me." A pressure touched the woman's back as a sharp pressure dug into her spin. "Yes. He never truly cared for you, Liat. Not as much as I have."
              "Once you are my Queen, you will have everything you desire. Ever head will bow, and the whole island will be at our disposal." Amara's eyes widened as the King continued, "We'll show the vermin that we are the Gods of their destiny; we'll prove to them that we are superior and will not be mocked or dismissed as a storm! No. We will be respected and feared as my father had been." Amara walked out of his grasp, her hands coming to her sides as her voice squeaked out, "I was promised that if I handed myself over, Fairytale Island would not be harmed." The King blinked down at her before he responded.
              "Oh no. Of course not. I would never harm the citizens; And yet they are trespassing on my land; and by my birthright; Fairytale Island belongs to the Kingdom of Golden Ray. So, they must be removed or accept themselves as my people."
                "What? But how could that be? That's not right."
                "It is right, Princess Marigold. Fairytale Island was your father's Kingdom. They have falsely owned your land for decades, and now I'm regaining it for you and our Kingdom, my Queen." He bowed his head to his future fiancee. Amara grasped her arms and shifted away from the giant's open palms, they left her trapped.
"Why would you do this? It's their home. You don't need it. You have plenty-" Amara's words died as Marcus slammed his fists against the table, sending her sprawling out before him. "WE HAVE NOTHING!!! MY PEOPLE ARE DYING! WE HAVE NO RESOURCES TO SUPPORT US SINCE THAT TERRIBLE TREATY!"
               Amara lifted herself to height, watching the face of the King turn scarlet and then drift from his temper as he touched up his hair, "But, the treaty is irrelevant now, or at least until the traitor is dead." Marcaus walked away from the side table where Amara rested, grabbing an emerald cloak and placing it over his shoulders. "What are you going to do to them?" The King glanced at his golden treasure, who stood shaking fearfully. His firm grip trapped her within his palm, and he leaned her close, spitting.
              "Anything I want."