CHAPTER TWO

The sky has brilliantly brightened the day up. The servants are already busy sweeping, cleaning, and getting through with other tasks.

The palace garden is a short distance from my courtyard. Getting close, I saw my sister, Princess Ivy, walking out of the gazelle away from the king’s presence, looking very furious.

The king called her as well? And what did he say to her? The countenance on her face doesn’t say much about a calm situation.

Whatever it is, it must not be good.

Princess Ivy is my elder stepsister. I have only two stepsisters, Ivy, who is six years older than me, and Ursula, who is only a year older.

The king doesn’t have a son, only three daughters. And also, I don’t have a direct sibling because my mother died a few days after giving birth to me.

"Greetings, sister," I carefully greeted Ivy when we got close, not wanting her aggression this morning to be transferred to me.

As if getting stopped by my voice, she swung around to look my way. Her face instantly clenched on seeing me, and then, she pierced a glare at me, fuming under her breath.

Seeing her look that way, memories from yesterday when she gave me a hot slap came flooding back into my mind.

‘Pack’ that slap over my cheeks. Anger went through my veins, pushing me from the inside to retaliate just then and immediately, but I was able to control myself.

I firmly stood on the ground, suppressing the feelings.

As if aware of the sudden anger burning inside me, she abruptly released a scornful laugh.

Eventually, she stopped laughing, then her face relaxed to look very expressionless.

She ran her cold eyes along the length of my body. What’s she staring at? I saw as she raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched into a sham smile.

"Someone has planned to look beautiful today," she smirked, her shoulders high, as if challenging me to superiority.

Plan what? Look beautiful? What was she trying to mean? I thought, looking at her without saying a word.

"Don’t ever count yourself lucky, Rosia." she said, her voice sounding different from the menacing look visible on her face.

Don’t ever count yourself lucky? The words felt like they reechoed in my head. I shouldn’t feel lucky about what? I wanted to ask her, but she quickly turned around and walked away.

I stared at her back with confusion as she walked tall and proud till she was out of sight.

"Plan looking beautiful." I muttered to myself, almost in a soundless whisper.

I didn’t plan on looking beautiful. Besides, I don’t even get the special dressing treatment like her and my other stepsister, Ursula.

Again, my stepmother, Queen Aurora, hates to see me look beautiful. She hates me and her two children hate me too, and they often bully me. They do almost everything to make life hard and difficult for me in the palace. And my father is also indifferently unconcerned towards me.

It is said that my dead mother lured the king to bed in order to fulfill her desire to be royalty. She conceived for him, and after giving birth to me, she was driven out of the palace by the king.

She wandered off into a far forest, where she eventually died.

And ever since my childhood, all I have felt is pain upon pain in this place, pains orchestrated by the queen and her two daughters.

Aside from their consistent maltreatment and ill-treatment, what gets me down is the pain of being called an illegitimate daughter, a past mistake, and a whore-like-her-dead-mother.

"Don’t mind her," someone spoke from behind me, jerking me out of my sad thoughts. I suddenly felt tears in my eyes, so I cleaned them off before turning to look at who it was. It was Irene. She was carrying some clothes in a basket to wash. It’s apparent that she has finished cleaning up my room.

"No, I will not," I told her, covering up with a smile.

"Everything will soon be okay for you," she said, smiled softly, then went away.

Irene has been the only one backing me up emotionally in the palace. She was assigned to me a few years back, when I was barely five, still a tender child then.

When she came, she succeeded in making the palace a little worth staying in for me. Although she doesn’t have a family of her own, yet she takes good care of me as if I was her biological daughter.

I know it’s her duty, after all, to take care of me, but the closeness we’ve shared is more than what can exist between a maid and her mistress.

Exhaling breaths, I continued going to answer the king.

...

"Greetings father," I greeted, standing before him. He is seated, having a discussion with a young man, under the gentle wind coming from the garden nearby.

A few royal knights from another kingdom stood around.

My father gave me an icy casual glance before averting his gaze back to the guest. "Here she is," he spoke to him.

I gave the young man having a discussion with the king a cursory glance. I found him staring at me with surprise and awe.

I quickly brought my face down, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way his eyes were around me. Or was it fear? My breath was almost taken away when my glances fell on him. He is so handsome, having a well sculpted face, a broodingly raw-boned jaw, dark eyebrows, and pale lips.

"She is Princess Rosia, the illegitimate daughter of mine that you’ve heard of."

I stared at the king with disbelief. Illegitimate daughter? He is calling me that even in the presence of a visitor. I felt the worst kind of humiliation as tears gathered around my eyes.

Why can’t he accept me as his daughter? Why has he chosen to join hands with his wife to make life frustrating for me? My heart got shattered and remained displaced.

"She is beautiful," the young man said.

Beautiful. I know that the palace maids have told me about my beauty, but no man has ever done that. I was supposed to feel excited, but my heart was saddened.

"You are welcome to our kingdom," I managed to say to him, smiling nervously, avoiding his gaze.

The king went on, "They have come to seek your hand in marriage."

Seek whose hand in marriage? I couldn’t believe my ears. I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t in my imagination at all.

I hardly had guests in the palace, unlike my two stepsisters, but with this man coming to seek my hand in marriage, I felt very skeptical.

"He has come to arra--" The king was about to say something.

"She looks more beautiful than what was expected, King Herbert," the young man interrupted, cutting the king off without letting him finish.

What impudence? At a point, I felt irritated. No one dares interrupt the king while he is speaking. And to think that he called the king's name without much respect. I gave him a bold stare only to see him looking very unbothered.

"Uhm... He is King Luther, king of Sidonnia kingdom," the king still continued, not feigning any offense.

Wait! He is a king? Unbelievable! He looks so young to be a king.

Hold on! King Luther of Sidonnia. Who doesn’t know about him? A king said to be cursed and evil. Wait a second! He plans on marrying me? I totally froze in place when I saw the way the my father had already agreed to his request.

I can’t get married to him. I protested but realized I hadn’t said it out but in my mind since my lips had suddenly become paralyzed.

"You will be getting married to him in a few days," my father said, adding.

"Getting married to whom?" I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice.

"Yes, you are going to be married soon," said the young king as he stood up, coming towards me. His voice was gentle and soft but did a lot of harsh things inside me.

I felt glitches in my breath as I struggled to flinch backwards, away from his closeness, yet he still continued coming up at me. His huge figure filled my eyes, and I couldn’t help but fix a gaze at him, taking in his every detail.

He has very long raven black hair which extends past his shoulder length. His body is well-built, having broad shoulders and tall, with an average height of six feet, six inches, and furthermore.

He is wearing a luxurious blue royal robe, which matches perfectly with his slightly pale skin and fits his body properly.

I was getting lost looking at him when I tripped and was falling and suddenly, I felt his strong arms wrapping around my waist.

He caught me then held me.

Straightening myself in his arms, I tilted my head up then gazed up at his face. I found him staring down at me, his unusual gold eyes looming over mine.

Wait! It’s not gold. It has flames like the lava of an erupted volcano.

The breath from his nostrils fanned my face, sending some sweet shivers down my spine. If I had been feeling knots in my belly, now I am feeling butterflies.

How could his hands do a lot of magic? His body scent confused my head, making me unable to think straight again.

And his lush hair, it smelled of spices and herbs, entirely engulfing my nose. I shut my eyes close to take a lungful of it.

"Ahem" My father cleared his throat, waking my eyes up.

I remembered that I am in the arms of somebody cursed and evil. I struggled to pull myself from him but he still held me.

As if sensing my fear, he leaned closer, stopping his face a few inches away from mine. I felt my breath almost running out of me while my stomach started recoiling terribly.

Something flickered in his eyes as he dazzled a smile. "I will be back to take you," he said. "You don’t even have a choice."