Broken Mirrors And Hidden Memories

 The girl was ignorant to his watchful eye as she danced with abandon through the flowers. She wore his white silk dress. Her hair bounced, white ribbons flying through the wind. She had a square face with pronounced cheekbones and a cute button nose. Her golden curls fell to her hips. Her eyes were sunken and strikingly large. Her circular lips were naturally red. She was just over five feet and thin. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eye upon. She was art embodied. She was so lovely the king felt the urge to lock her away from undeserving eyes.

 He didn't understand why the ghosts of her parents came to her and yet his mother hadn't spoken to him. He didn't understand why he had never seen that innocent joy their spirits could on so many nights without spying on her. 

 She was ten years older than his mother had been when she was taken to his father, relinquished due to poverty and accepted for her beauty. Her life was that of agony and torment until her suicide. The king, the prince then, had found her. He fell to his knees before her. Her knife was buried deep within her stomach but it wasn't that which drew his attention; it was the first smile he had ever seen upon her lips. He laid her head on his lap. He stared into her peaceful eyes as she died.

 "I love you, my little boy," She said, the first time he heard her voice. It was like a songbird had spoken for her, "Do not succumb to the temptation of a black heart."

 He downed his wine, setting the goblet aside and bringing the bottle to his lips. After draining it he collapsed on the bed. Soon he heard the door open and dainty fingers remove his shoes to set them aside.

 "You have been cold today."

 She raised her head to face him. She sat on the side of the bed.

 "I apologize. The attempted assassination has stricken me with fear."

 "Do not lie to me."

 She bowed her head, "I am sorry, your highness."

 "You are upset on that man's behalf."

 "His grief is something I resonate with."

 "I had allowed him to live. His attack on my men was a suicide. He knew that. You know that."

 Silence choked her. She rubbed the side of her hand in thought as the king watched her closely.

 "He deserved compassion."

 The king sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. Pressing two fingers against her jaw and turned her head for her to face him. She didn't back down from his hollow stare, his controlled calm. She stood her ground where so many others, older, larger, and well armed, would have backed down.

 "If I concerned myself with what my subjects deserve they'd still be dying in the streets. Other kingdoms would see my actions as an opportunity."

 "As you once had?"

 "Exactly."

 "You can be kind and strong."

 "Have I not shown you kindness?"

 "If you were to show me kindness you would set me free."

 The king's eye twitched. He stood and strode to the fireplace where he looked at the portrait that had been made of her when she was a child. He turned to her. He could see the apprehension within her. He could feel how small, how delicate she was. He grabbed her wrist and together they walked to the first servant they could find.

 "Come."

 The servant did as the king commanded, taking the long walk it took to reach the dungeon where the king snatched a key from one of the guards. He unlocked a cell and shoved the servant inside, locking the iron cage behind him and tossing the key back to the guard.

 He looked to see the girl covering her eyes and backing away. He grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back, holding her face in a way that allowed him to force her eyes to remain open, letting her blink every so often.

 The shaking man lifted himself to gaze with baggy, bloodshot, sparkling eyes at the servant. His grin was manic with rotten teeth and bloody lips. His flesh was like leather. His flesh hung from his body like folds of dough.

 The man was a former guard. The king could vaguely remember a story of madness and cannibalism that sealed his fate.

 The cannibal stumbled as he scrambled to the younger man who gripped the bars and begged the king to set him free. The king simply watched as he held the trembling girl, his fingers growing slick with tears. 

 He leaned down, his lips grazing the girl's ear and forcing a shudder to wrack her body, "This is the evil writhing within man," He growled as the servant's pants were ripped away and teeth sunk deep into his thigh, the sickening sounds of splitting and popping sending shivers through the girl as blood poured down the servant's leg, "This is what they will do to you, this and so much worse. I have vowed to keep you unsullied by the rats that eat and fuck each other below us. You condemn me because you have not felt the agony you would have had I had not entered your life."

 The girl's knees began to shake and so the king held her up. Still they watched as the cannibal dug his teeth into the spasming body. The cannibal pulled the man's penis off through great effort, blood sprouting out like a fountain, and he sunk his teeth into the organ. At the sound of tearing flesh as he ate the girl bent over emptied her stomach onto the floor. The king pulled back her hair. She continued to vomit and gag. Eventually the back of her shaking hand wiped her mouth. The king helped her to her feet. Again he turned her to face them, her hooded eyes tired, his arms wrapped around her.

 The servant screamed and begged for his family. Periodically the girl dry heaved. When the servant watched as his leg bone was forced from his joint he finally died, his flesh a sickening shade of green and white. The cannibal snapped the bone over his knee to suck out the marrow.

 The king took the girl's chin and turned her head up to face him, "You are safe from him and you are safe from those like him, as is, as has been, my decree. You should be grateful for the life you lead."

 He stared into those wide eyes, those beautiful, beautiful wide eyes that shone with mortal terror. He knew she was too stunned to speak. Again he held the back of her neck and forced her into the darkness in the same manner as he had done so many times before. He lifted her, laying her head on his shoulder, and carried her to his bedroom. For the first time he laid her head on the pillow. He took a cloth and washed her face. He pulled the blankets over her and tucked her in before he sat down beside her. His hand roamed over the outline of her face. He felt his filth rub off onto her the longer he touched her until he pulled away, before he ruined her completely.