The Destitute Queen || h.s. au

48. Lena

A/N: Please don't hate me!

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*earlier that day*

     A wicked grin has spread across Prince Louis' face, and my stomach drops. There's something so unnerving about his cold eyes.

     "Your Highness?" My voice squeaks, and I clear my throat. He slowly takes a few steps towards me.

     "First thing's first," he crosses his arms. "Belladonna's words have no meaning; you are to bow to me every time you see me, and you are to do whatever I tell you to do."

     Quickly, I bow my head, not wanting to be on his bad side. "I-I'm sorry, Your Highness."

     "Alright," he nods. Then, he gestures towards a basket full of his newly washed and dried clothes. "Fold those."

     My bare feet pad towards the basket, and I pick it up. Putting it down on the bed, I take out a shirt and begin to fold it. Something tells me he didn't just come here to order me to fold his clothes.

     He uncrosses his arms and takes another step towards me. "You know," he starts. "You don't seem like a bitch."

     His sudden words startle me, and I can't help but gasp. My eyes widen, but I continue folding the clothes. What made him say a thing like that?

     "Have you got nothing to say?" He asks, taking yet another step towards me. He is only a few feet away from me, making me extremely uncomfortable.

     "Your Highness, I don't really know how to respond to a thing like that," I say as politely as I can, and he nods.

     He chuckles. "You really do seem like a sweet girl, though. So polite, like you'd never do a thing to harm a single soul."

     I furrow my brows. "With all due respect, Your Highness, I'd like to complete my task in peace."

     "You will fold my clothes and you will listen to what I have to say," he sharply responds, and I gasp again. I try my best to bite my tongue, reminding myself that I can't say a word against him. "And you will continue working, no matter what I am about to say."

     "Of course, Your Highness," I whisper, his words frightening me. What could he possibly have to say?

     "As I was saying," he leans on the bed post, "You seem like a really sweet girl. It's a shame that's not the case, though."

     I frown. "What do you-"

     "Keep folding," he interrupts me, and I grab another shirt. "You may seem kind and innocent, but you're far from it. I can tell. Underneath that sweet exterior, you're quite cruel. Ruthless, even. He should have known better."

     "What?" My eyes widen, unable to believe what he's saying. I drop the undershirt I was folding onto the floor.

     He crosses his arms again. "Pick that up and keep folding."

     Reluctantly, I follow his orders. Gripping the undershirt tightly, I grit my teeth and continue folding his clothes. What is he even talking about? I'm not a cruel person.

     "If only he knew the kind of person you really were from the beginning, the poor boy would've saved himself some heartache," Prince Louis states, and my heart drops. Is he talking about Harry? That's not possible, nobody knows about what happened. "He's always been so stupid, though. He should know better than to be fooled by a beautiful face. Well, beautiful to him, at least. Average to everyone else in the kingdom."