Sickly Sweet

Cara

"Um, excuse me?" Sophie's voice cracked as she said the words. If he really said what she thought he said....

"Sophie, I already told you I was the King's assistant. But have you ever wondered how I afford all this?" He waved his arms around, indicating the grandeur home.

She nodded.

"Well, that's the thing. I wasn't really the King's assistant. I was... Well, I was the King."

It felt like a blow to the stomach. Martek...was....King?

The words just didn't go together. How could Martek - sweet, caring, though occasionally anger issues Martek - be the same person who murdered his own daughter?

Sophie gulped and backed away from him, fear in her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I've changed, I promise I have. What I did..." he hung his head low. "It was inhumane and I regret it every day. But please, if you'll just give me a chance - I'll show you, people change, they do. Sophie please. Sophie? Are you hearing any of this?"

She wasn't.

It was like she was underwater - every movement was slow and she couldn't speak. She heard his words distantly, but he was miles away, above the water, trying and failing to catch her attention.

She stared at him blankly.

"Sophie... Are you okay? Sophie? Sophie! Answer me!"

She blinked, her brain functioning enough for her to think:

This man murdered his daughter.

She gasped, turning and running out the door, hearing but not listening to Martek's begging for her to come back.

"Please! Sophie! Come back! You're like a daughter to me!"

He paused.

"No, no, I didn't mean that! You're more than a daughter, more than Cara ever was - not that it meant it was right to kill her! I mean, it wasn't really me, it was like..."

But she was gone. His vision clouded and, for the first time, he felt tears roll down his cheeks. Slowly walking toward the door, he put a finger on the crystal window, staring at the figure running across the drawbridge.

"Sophie."

~*~

A young girl and her father danced in a circle, laughing and singing along to the radio. The man spun her around, and she twirled out of his hands and collapsed on the velvet couch in a fit of giggles.

The father walked toward the couch and got down on one knee.

"Mi'lady, may I have this dance?"

The daughter laughed and rolled around before composing herself. Flaring her nostrils and speaking with an English accent, she replied,

"I suppose."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her body against his, and they salsaed and waltzed and foxtrotted round and round, the beautiful music playing in the background. At the end of the last song, commercials began to play and the man dipped his daughter low, giving her a peck on the forehead.

"Princess Cara, you are the most beautiful lady at the ball - and your moves aren't that bad either. Will you marry me?"

The daughter flared her nostrils once more and uttered a small, stuffy-nosed,

"I suppooooose."

They collapsed together on the soft carpet, writhing with laughter. In the background a commercial played:

"Are you a noble or middle class, with a comfortable home or even a castle?"

The daughter immediately perked up. "Why yes, I am." she muttered. Her father looked at her with disdain, inwardly chiding her for listening to those swindling salesmen.

"Do you have three or more meals a day, and plenty of fresh clothes?"

"Why yes, I do," she breathed once more, intrigued by the fact this man seemed to know everything about her.

"Well we are collecting for people who don't. Donate to the Homeless Helpers Federation and make a difference in the world today!"

The girl gasped with excitement.

"Oh Daddy, can we?"

"You know how I feel about salesmen."

"Yes but, it's for a good cause! Oh pretty please with a cherry on top?"

The father rolled his eyes and smiled goofily.

"But sweetheart, we have everything. What more could you need?"

"I wanna make a difference in the world." she proclaimed confidently, imagining her name in history books.

"No. I don't want you involved with the grubby streets people."

She gasped, shocked. "That's extremely rude! You could be a 'grubby street person' too if it weren't for your status."

"Exactly," said the man firmly. "But I do have status, and I don't want to be associated with people who don't."

The young girl frowned.

"End of discussion."

"But Daddy-"

"I SAID, END OF DISCUSSION!" He yelled. His daughter scrunched her face with anger.

"You're so mean! Why can't you give to the poor and needy? They're called needy because they NEED stuff, but you won't give them any! You're so mean!" She punched the ground hard, and her eyes welled with tears because of the pain. Her father's face softened and he tried to help her, but she slapped his face.

"HOW DARE YOU SLAP YOUR OWN FATHER!" He roared angrily. Whipping out a knife he steamed,"I'm gonna teach you a lesson."

The girl's eyes filled with fear. "Danny, help!" She cried. Her brother opened the door and slammed it with a bang.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked his father, confused himself.

"This." The man smiled evilly and, one by one, chopped off his daughter's fingers. She screamed bloody murder and, when she looked at the mangled hands, passed out from shock and pain. Soon a butler and two servants had rushed into the room and were staring at the King in fear.

He pointed at Danny with a shaking hand. "You next."

Jumping on his son, he managed to chop off one of his fingers and the teenage boy screamed. One of the servants tried to help, but the King growled and pointed with the bloody knife.

"Any of you step out of line and you're next." The three men widened their eyes and one ran out the door, the other two paralyzed with fear.

The man wielding the knife turned back to his daughter, chuckling with crazed eyes.

"No..." the boy managed weakly, cradling his injured hand. With a pale face, he looked on as his father stabbed the little girl in the stomach.

The extreme pain brought her back to consciousness, and with a crumpled, pale face, she looked her father right in the eyes.

"Daddy..."

The man let a tear run down his cheek as he watched his daughter's life fade away. Collapsing on the floor, he managed to carve a heart on her forehead before allowing himself to be taken away to be hanged.

And still his son watched on.