Syd'nee's POV
I was in pain. It was execrable. The black woven bag was thrown somewhere across the dark foul-smelling cell, my vision obscured to a maximum. "Wha..." I groaned softly, the throbbing pulse emitting throughout my skull was challenging to even concentrate on the surroundings around me. But I knew one thing was for sure.
I was no longer in my room.
Abundant footsteps caught my attention sharply as they promenaded closer towards my location, the sound of keys jiggling in a rhythmic motion caused my heartbeat to accelerate in fear. I edged closer towards the back of the paved adhesive walls using my hands as barbel to feel around for any clues as to where I was. I swallowed the thick lump that'd constructed it's way into the back of my throat as the heavy footsteps came to a halt.
"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing." I clenched my lids shut at the feeling of the man's rugged palm grazing against my sensitive jaw, which had been smashed into whilst attempting to free of my captors. I roughly pulled away from his venomous touch, my jaw now penetrating with a new found pain. I groaned in agony, wanting nothing more than to open my mouth and tell him a thing or two. But I couldn't, for my lips could hardly part and each time I attempted to get a word out, it came out incoherently jumbled.
"Now, now, that wasn't very nice of you.." The man mockingly chided, a lone finger moving down to tilt my chin upwards, which only resulted in more pain. He grinned, and I flinched seeing an array of discolored teeth through my blurred vision. I had managed to part my lips slowly in response to his conduct, my dark brows crinkling in ill-humor as I slowly whispered out, "Screw...y...you..." The man laughed, his entire body vibrating- much including his stout stomach which bounced jubilantly with each chortle. The grip of his boot was biting into the back of my hand, and the gravel stung my palm. As the pressure from his foot increased rapid darts of pain shot throughout my fingers. Then suddenly he stamped, expelling a sickening crunch. I parted my lips to scream in terror as the excruciating pain was accompanied by the flow of blood.
"You asshole!" I shouted on top of my lungs, hot tears threatening to spill from my tear ducts as I clutched my palm to my chest. I gazed up at him through slits, my chest heaving in pain as I clenched my lids shut, again. The man crouched down to my level slowly, his knees cracking emphatically with age as he did so."You hurt the Princess... this is what you deserve." The man whispered into the shell of my ear, and I blinked mostly puzzled and still in pain. My hand throbbed painfully as my lips trembled with fear. 'Where the hell was I?' 'Was the Princess they referred to Sharonia? The one that I had learned to despise?' But the question I pondered the most of all was this:
Was I going to die?
Prince Cleo's POV
I lie sprawled out on my King sized bed, my able-bodied arms contracted neatly beneath my head. My green orbs continued to stare up at the popcorn decorated ceiling, my thoughts flowing throughout my brain like a time warp. I sighed, moving my eyes to ogle at the extensive digital clock placed against my timbered night-table. 'I hadn't seen her in almost 24 hours' I thought discontentedly whilst blinking at the time. 2:09AM. I was leaving for Hampstead in the morning, and couldn't sleep a wink. Why did I feel so empty? So resentful? So afraid? So alone? The thunder crackled like fire works on the fourth of July, and sounded like gunshots to my ears as the lightning rapidly illuminated the room for a split second before I was emerged into complete darkness again.
"Shit," I mumbled underneath my breath before sitting up in bed to slip on my Clark shoes, after coming to the deep realization that sleep would not be paying me a visit anytime soon. I needed to see her, even if it were for a breach millisecond. I stood up, stretching my muscled limbs as far as they could take me. I suddenly came to a halt, my arms hoisted mid-air, as my ears perked to the sound of commotion in the hall. The luminous light outlined the marvelously crafted doors suddenly, which urgently captured my puzzled attention. Who would be up at this hour making so much commotion?
"One car only the King has said! You! put that down!" With my fingers firmly locked around the brass door knob, I listened intently, attempting to pick up any words that could easily make sense of what was happening.
But there was silence.
I blinked, furrowing my dark eyebrows in confusion. What the hell? I fervently ripped open the door, growing highly impatient only to be met with an empty lighten hallway. I jabbed my head through the threshold, glancing both ways down the corridor with a now agitated expression. Had someone played a prank on me? If so, it was far from funny. A pair of substantial footsteps suddenly seized my attention as they began to grow louder en route to me.
"Excuse me, sir!" A lanky, raw-boned servant shoved past me whilst rubbing at his eyes furiously, a .50 caliber handgun placed in the one size too big fanny pack which hung off his hips. He continued to scramble down the corridor as if his life had depended on it- and considering his status in the palace, I wouldn't be surprised if his life did depend on it.
"Oi!" I called out, my voice huskier than anticipated as I began streaking towards him. He swore underneath his breath, to which I elevated my brows. Where the hell was he off to in such a rush at 2 in the morning?
"Yes... your highness?" He hesitantly buckled his knees, half attempting a curtsy. I now quirked my lips at this, enjoying the attention I lacked to be getting these past couple of days. Glad to see someone still remembered who I was.
"Mind telling me just what the hell is going on?" I demanded whilst nodding my head in the direction of the timbered doors everyone had gone through. He swallowed thickly, before cringing and turning his head to look in the exact same direction. He cleared his throat, before murmuring something along the lines of 'man am I screwed...' "It's one of the maids on the second floor... apparently one went missing yesterday and hasn't been seen or heard of since. The King is sending 20 of us to have a search party and scan the area supervised by the General..." He trailed off, now fiddling with his bony fingers. I cringed, although nodding in understanding.
"Any idea who the maid was?" I inquired, even though I was a hundred percent sure it wouldn't be anyone I was familiar with.
"Syd'nee Diallo." The man scratched at the nape of his neck, before turning to walk back down his destined path. I blinked, watching his lanky countenance disappear as he turned a corner.
My mind, and soul and body might as well just had turned into ashes right then and there.
YOU ARE READING
Maid For Him
RomanceSyd'nee Diallo is a beautiful-exotic eighteen year old maid working under the care of the infamous African King A'yo. After being despoiled, used and abused Syd'nee has reached her breaking point; not knowing where to go as she's trapped in the cast...