Survival

"I'll take the shift tonight," he said, his eyes fixed on her like a prize to unwrap.

Liory sneered. "She's all yours." He patted his shoulders as an act of support.

The new knight smiled mischievously, still looking at her.

Melantha felt the urge to throw out the leftover she had eaten a while ago.

"You, go inside," he ordered.

As Melantha was about to step inside the cage, he stopped her. "Not you."

**** you! She cursed for the first time in her life.

The man closed the iron cage, took her by the wrist and walked out. His grip was rough.

Melantha lowered her eyes, feeling disgusted by his touch as if she were touched by an insect, but she forced herself to accept it.

Act scared. Act weak. That's what they expect.

She was far too weak to face a knight twice her size, with his fellow comrades circling the area. If she stabbed him, the other knights would never let her go out alive.

Melantha followed closely, obediently. Her eyes were scanning the area. A few knights passed by them, but no one cared.

There was one to count on saving her, except herself. Inside her sleeve, the stolen knife was there. She only needed to think of a plan!

The man stopped and held her chin with his hand, looking at her carefully. "Who would think a beauty like you would suffer so much unjust?" he said with a consoling tone.

Melantha stared blankly at his tanned face; his black eyes were looking at her like prey.

"I've got coins," he continued. "I'll take you to the Far West. Buy you a house. Servants. You'll live like a lady again," he narrated his dreams for her as if she were going to believe his drivel!

Melantha ignored his blubber. She was once a princess who lived in a palace, not to mention tens of servants taking care of her.

She didn't need luxury. She needed revenge — on the man who destroyed her kingdom. Peace could wait.

"Why don't you say something?" he asked, annoyed. "You deaf?" The man's tone turned sharp. The hand holding her chin tightened.

Melantha felt her jaw was going to break. "I was just surprised by the offer," she said, feigning a smile.

The man let go of her and laughed. "You ***** are all the same! All you think is money."

Melantha's disgust grew listening to his vulgarity. She wanted to attack him, but…

The man's eyes gazed at her, while his hand travelled to her chest. Melantha, sensing danger, clutched the knife inside her robe. Her heart was shaking with fear.

"Can we change the location?" she hesitated, and smiled at him.

The knight whistled. "I began to like you." He put his arm around her and walked ahead. "I'll take you to a place. I'm sure you'll love it…"

Melantha's nose fluttered from the knight's sour smell. She was getting enough! Her feet slipped down, but the knight kept dragging her.

Then her eyes caught a stable for horses. A thought came!

"We have arrived!"

Melantha was caught by a guard, her body swaying forward, and she was thrown inside a tent. Her heart thumped loudly, so she could hear her heartbeat. She turned to see the man a step away. He chuckled at her, raising his hands.

She, with a swift motion, drove her knee up between his legs. The man howled then cursed.

Melantha ran toward the stable. Her bare feet brushed past the stones and thorny hays. As she got near, she got the knife from her sleeves, opened the stable wooden door and entered. Her breath turned shallow, taking deep one to calm herself.

Once inside, she cut the ropes holding the horses. When arriving at a black majestic stallion, she shuffled near it, but he neighed. Its eyes were following her.

Dangerous like its master!

Risking herself, she cut the rope. 

"You are here, ****!"

Taken by surprise, Melantha's hand shook. The knife slipped to the ground. She turned to see the man from earlier with a sword in his hand. "I will kill you." He grabbed her neck and slapped her.

Melantha's head spun, and a buzz sounded in her right ear. The man's face blurred.

Her brain was blurry; she could feel her body being heavy. The sound of clothes being torn brought her back to reality. She struggled, but the man was stronger.

She had only one chance—to find her knife!

Her hands searched desperately while struggling with the other hand.

Hope was slipping from her slowly.

Her eyes glistered with unshed tears.

Her heart thundered.

Then her finger was cut by a sharp thing.

Melantha crouched, blood dripping from her cut hand. Her vision blurred, but she forced her eyes to search for—

The knife.

She found it!

Melantha grabbed it, then turned and stabbed the stallion's front leg.

The horse reared with a wild, piercing scream. Hooves slammed against wood. The others shrieked and kicked at their stalls. Panic spread like fire.

Wood cracked. A gate swung open.

Horses bolted.

The man stood up, disoriented. "What the h—!"

A hoof slammed into his side, sending him to the ground. He screamed. Another horse galloped past, nearly trampling him.

The barn was chaos — whinnies, shouts, splintering wood. Horses ran in all directions.

Melantha crouched, protecting herself, heart pounding.

The man ran to her, yanking her by the arm. "What did you do?" he asked, shaking her body violently. His steps rushed out.

Melantha grabbed her torn cloth with both hands, eyes to the ground, her body trembling with fear.

The man stopped, freed her, and kneeled down.

"Your Majesty."

Her blood froze.