Royal vs Dragon

Chapter 6

Devon:

I told my father to back off, but of course he didn't listen to me.  It's like I was a little kid again with him not paying attention to me whatsoever once more.  This just made me so frustrated.

"You know, forget it," I told my father, and tried to walk away from him and enter the palace so that I could go and sleep.  This didn't work, however.  My father just moved to block my way.  He brought his arm out and put his hand on the door entry.  He seemed determined not to let me pass until he got his way.  He really knew how to get under my skin.  I just wanted to push and shove him out of my way, but I restrained myself.  He was my father and the king after all.  No sense on getting more on his bad side for now.  My father had narrowed his eyes at me since he saw me, but just then, out of no where, his eyes softened and released their narrowness.  I was confused.  What the heck was going on? I thought.  This was actually creeping me out.  My body went into a pose that said, you're freaking me out, stay away from me.  Apparently, he didn't receive the message that my body language presented, or he just simply didn't care and ignored it.  He stepped towards me and hugged me.  I stiffened under his touch, and was wondering what was going on.  I just couldn't understand it.

I heard my father whisper into my ear, "I'm sorry son."  I could feel the tears that ran down his eyes that landed on my shirt.  I started crying too.  We both bawled like two big babies, and not two grown men.  What an embarrassment.  We walked through the doors while leaning against each other with our arms over each others shoulders, crying.  I bet that our eyes were red and swollen once we got inside and went to bed that night.  Again, what an embarrassment.

Kaylee:

I woke up the next morning wondering where I was.  "Where am I?" I wondered aloud.  Then it all came rushing back to me at once.  I was in my room, if that's what you wanted to call it, considering how it looked.  Everything was terrible.  Scratch that.  Almost everything was terrible.  Nah, everything was terrible.  My life was totally ruined, and I didn't know how I would get out of it, or if it was even possible too.  I covered my face with the palms of my hands and groaned.  My life sucks, big time, I thought to myself.  Oh well, better get up.  So I got up and out from under my scratchy blanket.  Not very comfortable if you ask me.  Maybe this was a little better than where I came from, but not by much, and everything was falling apart on me.  I stood up and stretched and took in every nook and cranny in my room once more.  My room was horrible! What did they do during their spare time here?  Never bothering to check up on this room no doubt.

I looked around to see if I could find some clothes.  I spotted what looked like a maid's uniform placed neatly for me on my desk, surprisingly enough.  It looked neatly pressed as well.  Oh, joy!  I thought sarcastically.  Just what I needed.  A poofy little dress and an apron to go with it.  I wonder how I didn't hear someone come in and set it down for me?  This place looks ancient as it is.  I took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh with closed eyes and slumped shoulders.  Oh, well.  I guess this is it, than.  I gathered up my clothes and undergarments and left the room for the bathroom in search of a shower.

I found a shower in my bathroom, turned to my left, entered the shower, set my clothes down on the toilet seat and took my shower.

It wasn't a long shower, about fifteen minutes or so altogether, including the drying off and changing into my maid's uniform, which was surprisingly comfy.  This, I thought, was the single good thing that has happened to me since coming here to this stupid place.  I turned around to look in the mirror that sat just over the sink.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  I was blue, black, purple, and yellow all over the place.  Even in my baby blue maid's uniform with a white frilly apron, it couldn't help with hiding my bruises.  I was devastated.  I cried out in horror with my hands formed into fists, covering the sight of my cheeks and bending forward a little, like I had been punched in the gut.  Tears started sliding down my cheeks.  I swiped at them furiously with the back of my right hand.  I could not see much of my peach-colored skin which was covered in bruises.  I grabbed a brush and started brushing my hair as I cried.  I hoped that nobody would be able to see my swollen red eyes at work.