Chapter 19: Baby Steps

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The whole ride to the castle was completely silent, and you wanted it to stay that way. You put on a blank facade as you stared at the window, but inside your heart was slowly tearing itself apart. An involuntary tear found its way out of your lower eyelid and streamed across your cheek.

"Darling, don't cry," George cooed from your side. He tried his best to make you utter at least one word, but nothing came out ever since you went with him.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds to relax yourself and control your temper. George gently took your hand, but you immediately flinched the moment your skin came in touch with his.

"Please, don't," you said in a somewhat cold voice, not even bothering to look away from the window.

He sighed. There was no way he could talk to you after killing your best friend like that. He gave up on it and decided that it was best to give you some time to cool off. It was the least he could do.

You came into a sudden halt before the coachman opened the door. George was the first to leave. He immediately started ordering the slaves around. You took the footman's hand, muttering a thanks as you descended from the carriage. You gazed at the stone castle that stood before you, something that you were going to have to get used to.

George offered you his arm. You hesitantly locked your arms with his, and entered the castle. The two of you entered the Rubens room, and turned left, going to the Throne room, where many servants awaited. They all knelt to the ground in unison.

"Stand up, all of you," George said, standing in front of them with his back facing the throne. "Everyone, this is (Y/n) (L/n). I expect all of you to treat her with great care and respect. Failure to do so will be considered treason, and thus, will be punishable by death."

All of the workers started to feel uncomfortable, fear evident in their eyes.

The young king already had a sick smile on his face. He was truly satisfied with the servants' reactions. "Another note that I'd like to leave is that nobody touches (Y/n), unless you want to have your whole family burning on a stake right in front of your eyes, and your head rolling off the rough, stone path," he taunted with a frightening tone.

By then, the servants were already shaking as they nodded, already getting the point.

"Dismissed," was all George said before they all started rushing out of the room to continue their work. However, two women stayed in the room. He went over to them, with you by his side.

"Your Majesty, Miss (L/n)," the first one greeted with a nod, "this is Sarah Huntington, our best maid yet."

George nodded, and turned his attention to you. "(Y/n), Sarah will be your personal maid from now on," he informed you before looking at the maid. "Please escort her to the Queen's closet, and get her a better outfit."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Sarah answered before heading towards the door. "This way, Miss (L/n)."

You followed her through a series of rooms, until you got to the closet. There were a plethora of dresses to choose from. But not just any dresses, no, of course not. They all belonged to every generation of the royal family of Great Britain, some of them decorated with luxurious, ermine fur.

"Here we are, Miss (L/n)," Sarah said, leading you to the wide array of clothes. "You may choose any dress you want."

You scanned the closet for a simple dress.

You weren't really into fancy or exquisite gowns. They were just for show - protecting a family's reputation by showing off wealth and proving that they're worthy of respect. However, you had no family, and you did not feel the need to dress up an elaborate gown just to impress and reach society's standards. You've had enough of that. Almost everyone thinks you have to be a perfect figure to everyone's eyes, but no, it was okay to be different. You knew that, and so did Corrianne.

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