Chapter 12

"Your Highness, the guests have arrived."

I turned to the maid and sighed. "Convey the dishes to the royal dinner, I'll come along."

The dark-haired maid nodded, gesturing at the rest to follow. Together, they carried the dishes and exited the kitchen, leaving me alone.

It had been hours since the Queen's threat and no matter how had I pushed my feelings aside — the knots in my stomach refused to loosen.

If she was making bold threats, it had to be because she knew where Danielle was.

I sucked in a deep breath, running my hands through my short wavy hair. The tall walls of the royal kitchen inched closer as I stifled a frustrated scream.

I had to find Danielle and leave this circus behind. These festivals and activities — what was I doing?

I only agreed to this because George promised he would let me see Danielle if it was successful but everyone was slipping from my fingers and —

"Your Highness!" One of the maids rushed in, her eyes wide. "The Queen demands your presence immediately."

I straightened up, my forehead creasing. "Why? Whatever for?"

The maid refused to meet my eyes, her lips shut.

I frowned and exited the kitchen, taking quick strides toward the dinner. As I walked, my stomach churned and I found myself fidgeting with my fingers.

Did they loathe the dishes? Was it distasteful? Had I ruined the only chance to see my sister again?

I paused, bile rising in my throat. I struggled to breathe. My chest tightened and I reached for it. Before I could process what was happening, my knees buckled but I didn't hit the ground.

My gaze moved from the hands holding me up to his face, our eyes locked and my body slacked against him.

George didn't let go.

"Please," I begged. "Return my sister and set me free. I cannot hear the burden of this pressure anymore. I cannot —" A sob finally escaped my lips and my fingers dug into his dark coat, clawing at his skin — holding on.

"Is that your wish?" He didn't try to look at my face or push me away. Instead, King George's grip on me tightened. "Do you want to walk away and never see my face again?"

"Your Highness?"

We turned to see some guests and the Queen strolling forward.

"The subjects and Royal families, could not wait to meet you, Anastasia."

George helped me up and stood in front of me. "Why so?" he daggered the entire room with an icy gaze. "Has the dish not been to your satisfaction?"

"Not at all!" A woman stepped forward. Adjusting her golden train she spoke. "It has been," her gaze met mine. "Out of this world."

My eyes traveled to George and they met him, a silent conversation brewing as he offered me a sincere smile.

"Yes, Your Highness. It was splendid. We had to meet and commend the hands which have made such delicacies." Another man chimed in.

I struggled to process their words. Were they… were they complimenting me? Did they enjoy the food?

No one… No one apart from Danielle had enjoyed my cooking. Father always said I was wasting resources and delivering half-baked food.

I was throwing him into more debt by wasting his resources because everything was either too sweet or too salty.

"Thank you," I responded, as George's hand snaked around my waist.

"That is fine, that is fine," The Queen sighed, clearly irritated. She gestured at a guard to carry her train and she turned, walking away.

The guests followed.

"Two more days and the festival will be over. Then…"

"Then I shall see my sister?" I blurted. "You promised me?"

"Even better," George closed the distance between us. "I shall make you an offer. After the festival, you are free to leave with your sister, Ana. I shall not hold you back anymore."

I froze, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I thought I brought you out of a prison, I thought I would give you respect and love but today I have realized, Ana…" He trailed off, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I became your prison."

A tear rolled down my cheek at his confession. "I would rather not be that, Ana. I would rather not the reason tears gather in your instead of dry."

George snapped his fingers as my heart ached.

Tears stung my eyes. This was good news, right? This was what I wanted.

I wanted to leave, never to return so why? Why did it feel like my heart was being ripped out?

There was no way… I could not be attached to King George.

How does one become attached to their captor? Their father's murderer, sister's kidnapper?

Had I danced to the enemy's tune so long that his golden cage became my home? Or had I never known the taste of home, until its icy blue orbs stared back at me?

The snap of George's fingers dragged my attention and I turned to see four guards rushing forward carrying something large and heavy. It was covered with clothes.

"Whatever is this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My world," George confessed from behind me. "My home, and the one thing I lost dear. My greatest weakness and my biggest strength. I didn't realize it until it was staring me in the face after so long. You are going to leave, the least I can offer is honesty"

I watched as he gestured at them. They nodded and pulled the clothes off.

My eyes widened as I gazed at my reflection, I stumbled, my back hitting a soft surface. "This is a mirror," I confessed, my voice cracking as I struggled to comprehend it.

"Yes," George's breath fanned my skin. "Because you transcend everything you can Imagine. I thought I could keep you with a tight grip but you only grew farther away from me."

"Why are you saying this? Why are you showing me, this?"

I turned to him, a sob bubbling in my throat. "What—" My voice failed me and I shut my eyes. "Whatever do you want?"

"I want you to make the right decision. No, I trust you to make the right decision and I will respect it." George announced and started waking away.

The sounds of drums followed and I froze as he disappeared from my line of sight. The royals were celebrating, I read it in the books.

After the grand breakfast was the morning celebration before the musical tomorrow and then, the final celebration.

I frowned, reaching my head as it throbbed. The sound of the drums was familiar and I winced as I heard a faint echo, a voice.

My legs wobbled, feeling like jelly as I stepped back, the world around me spinning as the drums continued.

Then, it happened, my head snapped back and it came in three pictures.

Several bodies. A lot of blood. A young girl screaming for help, and a boy, calling after her.

"Ian… Ian!" I vocalized the girl's screams and crumbled to the ground.

"Your Highness!"

I turned to my right hand to approach me. He crouched down beside me, reaching out.

"Where have you been?" I asked, raising my gaze. "All of these days, I have not set eyes on you?"

He averted his gaze. "The king sent me on a royal errand, Your Highness."

I slapped his hand away and strolled toward my chambers. I paused as I passed the king's chamber. I noticed he was speaking to someone.

"You are right, mother. Everything has to happen without any issues."

"That woman is an issue waiting to unfold. If you cared about Charlotte, you would not have married someone else."

I froze at her words. Charlotte? That was the same name. The name the little boy was calling the girl in my vision. Who was Charlotte?

I gestured at the man to leave and he hurried off. I leaned against the wall as they spoke.

"I have my reasons for marrying Anastasia. She is leaving after the festival."

The Queen perked up in surprise and stood. "You are allowing her to leave? Has your obsession come to an end?"

"She wishes to not be with me." His voice cracked. "I have no intentions of forcing her."

"Is she so special?" She tsked, rolling her eyes. "This is good news, either way. You should focus on finding Charlotte. She is the key to securing your position as king. You need to find her and make her your wife, not that peasant."

George stepped up to his mother and a gasp escaped my lips as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I have found Charlotte, Mother and I have also let her go…"