No mercy would be shown that day.
The window had been left open, the shutters slamming against the exterior of the stone castle as the chilly wind crept forth and covered the room in its icy depths. The curtains sway in the breeze, clapping against each other and drowning the silence in the room.
The frigid air licks the skin of Adalia, the castle servant who sleeps peacefully, unaware that trouble is creeping upon her. Her breaths are shallow and even and she groans softly in her sleep when warmth suddenly feels like icy fingers creeping up her legs towards her throat.
Adalia shivers, awaking from her slumber. She looks around, confusion filling her features when she finds herself wrapped in the red silk blankets of her prince's bedroom.
She throws the heavy covers from her frail body. Her boney fingers tremble with fear when she realizes what she's done.
She's fallen asleep while serving.
She was supposed to deliver her Queen fine red wine for the annual ball thirty minutes ago.
And worst of all, she fell asleep in the prince's bedroom. If the prince were to find out, her life would be getting a whole lot darker, she was sure of it.
Her feet skim the cold floors delicately and she scrambles to draw the shutters shut. No evidence of her slumber must remain in this room. She hurriedly makes the bed and throws the wool pillows in place.
Fear is engraved into her features and a heavy feeling nestled itself into her heart.
She makes it to the door and throws it open.
Only to run right into the soft body of her princess. Her heart hammers against her ribs and she squeezes her eyes shut. She cannot bring herself to look up at the face of the cruel princess she serves.
"I command you to look at me. I wish to see your face."
Adalia trembles and shivers. She knows what is about to occur as she gazes into the angry hazel eyes of the chestnut-haired princess. She does not flinch when the princess raises her hand against her.
The sound is sharp and deafening to Adalia's ears. She squeezes her eyes shut and resists the urge to touch the point of impact on the right side of her face.
She knows better than to interfere with her punishment.
She looks at her bare feet in shame. Tears brim to her eyes.
But she won't let them spill.
The royal family makes a humiliating mockery of them.
"Look at me, servant, and tell me exactly what you were doing in my brother's bedroom at this time. I believe you were asked to serve wine, yes?" The princess' voice is like a whip, sharp and demanding obedience.
YOU ARE READING
The Cursed Lamb
WerewolfBeing thrown to the wolves is a death sentence. Adalia knows that all too well, since she witnessed her own father being slaughtered in that same unmerciful way. Living life as a meek slave in a kingdom full of royals, Adalia has no rights and is tr...