Seraphina’s breath caught in her throat as she opened the door and found herself staring at a grand staircase spiraling downward. The contrast from the dark, eerie corridor was jarring. This part of the building was entirely different—elegant, almost regal, like something out of a forgotten palace. The stone walls gave way to rich tapestries, the cold damp air replaced with warmth and the scent of burning wood.
Cautiously, she descended the staircase, her bare feet padding lightly on the polished marble steps. As she moved further down, the glow of a fire came into view, illuminating a king-sized sitting room that was lavish and immaculate. Thick, plush rugs covered the floor, and ornate furniture filled the space. It was nothing like the stark and desolate room she had woken up in upstairs.
But it wasn’t the decor that caught her attention—it was the man sitting casually in the center of it all.
He was well-built, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. His face was shadowed by the dim light, but she could see enough to notice the smug smile curling on his lips as he sipped from a glass of deep red wine. His clothes, though not royal, were expensive, and he exuded an air of confidence that instantly put her on edge.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and unnerving, echoing off the walls. “Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement.
Seraphina froze on the last step, unsure whether to run or confront him. Every instinct screamed danger, but the man was blocking her path to any potential exit. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, though her legs still felt weak from the drugs.
“Come,” he said, motioning toward the empty seat across from him. “Sit. Join me. You must be tired after your little nap.”
Seraphina hesitated, her mind racing with questions. Who is he? What does he want with me? She scanned the room, searching for any sign of an escape or weapon she could use, but nothing seemed immediately helpful. The door behind her felt impossibly far, and confronting him directly wasn’t an option—not yet.
When she didn’t move, his smile widened. “I promise, I won’t bite,” he added mockingly, taking another sip of wine. “Not unless you give me a reason to.”
Her pulse quickened, but she knew she had no choice. She had to play along—for now.
Reluctantly, Seraphina stepped forward and slowly sat in the chair across from him. The fire crackled softly, filling the silence between them as they studied each other. His eyes, dark and gleaming with something unreadable, never left her face.
“Good girl,” he said, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Now, I suppose you have a lot of questions. But first… why don’t you tell me who you think I am?”
His tone was calm, but the challenge in his voice was unmistakable.
Seraphina sat there, trembling, too exhausted and terrified to speak. Her body felt like it was betraying her—her mind screamed for her to react, to say something, anything, but her mouth refused to form words. All she could do was stare at the man, her pulse thudding in her ears.
The man noticed her silence and chuckled again, the sound smooth yet sinister, like he was enjoying her discomfort. “You don’t need to speak,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I can already tell you’re scared. But don’t worry—I can be your enemy… or your friend. It all depends on how you behave.”
He stood up then, his movements slow and deliberate as he walked toward her. The dim light of the fire made his presence feel even larger, casting long shadows on the walls. Seraphina’s heart raced, and when he reached out, as if to touch her, she instinctively moved back a little, shrinking away from him.
His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it—just amusement. “Ah,” he said, his voice a low murmur, “I see. You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”
Seraphina’s eyes widened, and she felt her face flush with both embarrassment and anger. But before she could react, he continued, waving his hand dismissively. “Relax,” he said. “I’m not interested in virgins. Not my taste.”
His words, though casual, dripped with malice, and Seraphina’s skin crawled. She wanted to run, to escape from this nightmare, but her legs were like lead, and her body was still weakened from the drug.
The man paced slowly around the room, eyeing her as if she were an interesting puzzle. Then, without warning, he asked, “I do hope the king is doing well.”
Seraphina stiffened. Her breath hitched in her throat. How did he know about the king? About her father’s failing health? She hadn’t spoken to anyone outside the palace, hadn’t even hinted at the truth of her father’s condition.
When the man saw the fear flash across her face, he smiled—a cold, calculating smile. “Oh, yes,” he said, his voice almost mocking. “I know. The king’s health is deteriorating, isn’t it?” He leaned closer, his eyes locking with hers, as if daring her to deny it. “But do you know why?”
Seraphina’s mind raced. She had been so focused on helping her father through his illness, so desperate to hold the kingdom together, that she hadn’t questioned the cause. Could it be more than just illness? Could this man—whoever he was—be behind it?
Her stomach twisted with dread as the man’s smile grew wider. "No?" he asked, his tone darkly playful. "I thought so. Perhaps it's time you started asking the right questions, princess."
YOU ARE READING
THE SASSY PRINCESS
General FictionA rebellious princess's goes upside down when her parents died leaving her to go through obstacles to obtain the throne,her enemy adds when a friendship with a stable boy turns to bitterness after her father punishes his family, igniting resentment...
