A Field of Keys

CHAPTER TWO

A/N: Welcome to the second chapter of AFOK! Before you read the next chapter, please note that this particular chapter has some heavy themes in it. I will be putting a trigger warning so then you guys can skip over that part if you'd like to. That being said, enjoy the chapter!
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CHAPTER TWO

I COULD FEEL MY FATHERS EYES GLARING HOLES into my back as I trailed through the long grass that lined the outskirts of the castle, leading towards the cottage. I made sure my feet were quick so then he couldn't catch up to me to inevitably talk to me about Malek's inquiries. Various branches and flowers snapped and crunched under me as I turned into the small dirt path that led to our home.
   
I flung the door open with a vigor that rocked the shabby wood paneling, throwing myself into the plush ottoman that sat next to the coffee table, pressing my dress under my thighs so the edges laid flat against the contours of my legs. As soon as I heard my father step into the room, my eyes flicked up towards him with a look of desperation, pleading to him with my eyes, begging to save me from the argument that was about to ensue.
   
"Get to bed. We leave in the morning." He shot at me, ready for the fight.

"But papa, must I come with you? I swear, I could be so much more help here. All I would do if I came with you is slow you down." I pressed on. "The King made it sound urgent. I think you should go alone." I stated, pressing my fingernails into my thighs, leaving crescent shaped welts into the flesh there.

He flung his hand out towards me and anger shone clearly over his usual calm and easygoing features.

His face grew progressively red, the vein in his neck straining against the flesh barrier, looking as if it were about to burst. With a face stride over towards me, he grabbed my shoulders in a vise grip, spit splattering out of his mouth at my face as he spoke with urgency.

(beginning of tw)
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"Daughter. As much as you argue, as much as you despise me for needing you with me, there are some things you will never understand as the King's Hand. You will do things that don't make any sense but you will need to accomplish despite how confused you are. Do you understand?" His glowing silver eyes searched my face desperately and my cheeks flushed under his scrutinizing gaze. When I didn't answer, he shook me once more, my head rolling back and forth with the force. "Do you understand?!"

A gasp hitched in my throat, the action sending me backwards on the ottoman. With a loud thud, my back crashed into the corner of the wooden crib, feeling my head ricochet off of the leg. Suddenly my vision grew blurry feeling my hands reaching out for someone - anyone - to help me up. Ringing began shortly after and I could hear my father's muffled voice whispering apologies and cooing softly as if it would make the injury hurt less. When hands pulled at my arms, attempting to help me up, my hands sprang back towards my hips.

"I can get myself up." I whispered.

Tears threatened to spill over when I sat up. My eyes found my father, and he wasn't looking at me.

No. He was looking at the crib.

I craned my head backwards to take a look at the scene behind me and chills spilled over my flesh.
The crib was shattered. Gone. I hadn't known I landed so poorly. My eyes shot back to my father. He looked like he was going to burst. Instead his eyes rolled lazily back at me and his lip curled into a scowl. Pushing forward, he grabbed my wrists, yanking me up towards his chest. He threw his arms around my slender shoulders, his own racking with sobs.
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(end of tw)