Canorous

Eighteen

Warning: Rape. Contains smut.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

It was cold and dark. It felt like Historia was buried deep in a chasm. She did not know what happened but she was sure that she was sleeping on her bed serenely a while ago but now, she was stuck in the inky and vast darkness that engulfed her and her courage.

Shivering in the cold, she let a whimper out of her lips. She sat up and embraced her knees on the attempt to conserve her body heat.

Her situation looked dire to her and it was abstruse for her to figure out where she is and what is going on.

The only assumption that she made that she fears is that she was captured by the rebels.

She was hugging her knees and cradling her cold body that was only warmed by the thin cloth of her nightgown. Shivers licked her spine and it made her shake. Her lips trembled as she resisted the urge to sob and scream for help.

As seen by people, she is a calloused princess that seemed to endlessly yell orders to squires but in reality, she is merely a frail young woman that could not even hold a cleaver without her wrists faltering.

The darkness seemed ever infinite and Historia began drowning in it like it was an ocean made to devour her very soul. She felt hapless and tears began to flood her lashes, clouding her eyesight. She blinked them away only to break down into sobs and hiccups.

She was scared. She wanted someone to save her but no one knows where she is even her.

Her sobs and sniffles halted when she heard a cold voice that seemed to rattle her spine with every word.

"Oh?" The voice said and it was like the whistles of Boreas. Cold and chilly. "Why is my bride crying? You miss Uncle already?" It teased Historia but the person, or creature did not show itself.

Historia rose, spinning around as she searched for the person in the dark. Her neck craned itself left and right and her eyes scanned the darkness as thorough as she can.

"Your bride?" Historia called out, mustering her courage but her voice faltered and she began to loathe herself for doing so. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. "I am not your bride! Show yourself!" She yelled to the darkness, her voice steadier than it was a while ago.

She heard the freezing voice chuckle, adding more darkness to the already inky black that suffocated her and her hopes. "Of course you are, my love."

Historia whimpered but she stood her ground. If she has to fight her way out of this, then she will even if it will cause her defeat and death.

How did I get here? She thought as her body shook in panic. She began to chew her fingernails in unease. If it was the rebels, then it would be impossible since the palace is guarded by the best soldiers of Eldia. Then...am I dealing with someone inhumane?

She looked down in panic as tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand caress her cheek and wipe the tears from her face.

A bright light appeared and Historia squinted as she adjusted her eyes to see and adapt to the temporary blindness she experienced caused by the bright light. Then, she looked up to see the face of a...

She is not aware on how to describe the person-no, the creature that she is face to face with.

The creature had humanoid features except for the tall, black goat horns that shot up from his tufts of shoulder length dark brown hair. Instead of canines, the creature had sharp fangs in place of it. His eyes were a beautiful shade of molten gold but it was adorned with slits of black, like a serpent's.