•E/C: Eye Color

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Your POV:
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Panic shot through my body as I broke into a cold sweat, squeezing the sheets within my fists. My mind was racing between images, trapping me inside a dreadful nightmare of recent events: those heads, those horrifying expressions they bore, the King's dreadful smirk and bloody sword. The deceased chanted horrible things, blaming me for their deaths, calling me a curse. All the while, his majesty watched with glee on his throne, his laughter ringing in my ears amongst the shouting. I scream apologizes, but they do not accept them, and then, it stopped.

Everything faded away, and I became aware of the wetness on my cheeks along with some movement involving my hair. I didn't think anything about it at first, as I was still calming down from the nightmare, but I subconsciously smiled at the feeling, since it was helping to relax me. It wasn't until I realized the impossibility of Weston twirling strands of my hair that my eyes snapped open. The E/C optics flick over to the figure on my left, and through my slightly blurred vision, I could make out the form of the King sitting at my bedside, dressed like he was prepared for an outing.

In a mix of shock and fear, I scream and roll off the bed, falling straight to the floor with a thud. I hiss through my teeth and, without thinking, slip out a curse.

"Shit!"

"Good morning to you as well, darling." The man chuckles, leaning over to look down at me. I grit my teeth and put a hand on my shoulder, which felt sore from the fall. "I never knew you had such a foul tongue. My, how you amuse me, farm girl." I tense up as he slides off the mattress and crawl back as he approaches, still clutching my throbbing shoulder.

"Oh, dear, did you hurt yourself? You must be more careful." He reaches a hand out, causing me to flinch and shut my eyes. I wasn't prepared for gentle fingers to caress my shoulder. "My apologies. It was not my intention to send you rolling off the bed," he says, seeming sincere, much to my confusion. I'm, then, taken by the hand and am brought to my feet.

"Well, now that you're finally up, let's get you into proper attire." His majesty leaves me standing by the bed to approach the wardrobe and pulls it open by the carved handles to reveal the many dresses inside before sifting through them. His olive eyes seem to light up when he picks out a sparkling, peach dress with sheer sleeves that would show off the shoulders. The skirt is long, enough to reach down to my ankles, and I'm sure that if you were to twirl in it, the skirt would fan out wide. It's certainly like nothing I've ever worn before.

"Ah, this should do nicely, don't you think?" Bearing a wide grin, he comes to me with the dress draped in his arms, and my natural response was to back away until I hit the wall. The King arches one of his fine brows at this. "Now, now, don't be that way. Might I remind you, I am still your king," he says while thrusting the dress into my arms before leaning close to my face, enough to feel his breath on my lips, "so you'll have to do everything I say."

The man wears a smirk that I wished to slap clean off his smug face, but I was frozen in place, unable to speak and hardly able to breathe. Just the sight of him paralyzes me, and him being so close makes everything worse. "You will behave, won't you?" He questions, voice dipping some, which makes me gulp. I can barely muster a nod, willing to say or do anything to be put out of this position. He gives a pleased smile at my compliance and takes gentle hold of my chin.

"Good." I give a muffled shriek when he lays his lips on mine, but thankfully, the kiss did not last long. "After you are dressed, you'll join me for breakfast. Won't that be lovely?" I feel as though I can breathe again once he steps away. "Quickly, now, darling. You don't want to keep me waiting, but you already know that, don't you?" He chuckles ominously, sending a chill down my spine, as he leaves. Frustrated, my fists clench the fabric of the dress in my arms, that chilling laugh staining my brain, echoing and driving me mad. I throw it to the floor in anger and clutch my head as my eyes line with tears, trying to get a grip. I can't believe he can act so carefree after what he did to me... No, I can believe it. That man is nothing but a monster. I wipe my eyes with a sniffle and glare down at the pretty dress splayed out on the floor, then peer over to the window. Breathing heavily, I get up and pound my fists against the glass repeatedly, hoping to break it or at least get my anger out, but no luck. The glass is too thick, seeming unbreakable, which infuriates me more.

"Damn him!"

'He planed that, didn't he? He knew I might try to break them. He's mocking me!' I fall to my knees and shake my head.

'I'm supposed to be a servant, not a wife!' I pick myself up, face red with fury as I march over to the wardrobe, deciding to pick my own outfit, not something the King wants to see me in. My maid dress, perfect. I throw it on and declare myself ready. I don't bother with my raggedy hair or appearance. None of that matters. I'm not dolling up to please that sadist. I open the door to be met with two armored guards— My escorts, I presume. One leads the way, while the other trails behind me, leaving no room for escape, much to my dismay. Eventually, we reach the room where his majesty eats his breakfast, and the doors are pulled open to reveal the King at the table, sipping at a cup of tea while reading the paper. I instinctively shake in his presence, even more so when he glances up.

"And, here I thought I'd have to send someone to..." His smile fled the moment he sees my appearance, being replaced by an enraged snarl. He stands abruptly, knocking his chair down from the force of his movement, causing all servants to freeze. The guards slam the doors shut behind me, trapping us all like lambs for the lion, as the King walks over to me, his footsteps quick and menacing to match the fire in his eyes. "This is not the dress I gave you to wear," he growls.

I breathe in shallow huffs, finally gaining the courage to do something. I spit on his face, waving the red flag to the bull. The King went livid, striking me with the back of his hand and sending me to the floor. I yelp and hold my cheek, the skin throbbing from the harsh impact. Next, he pins me down, grabbing a fistful of my knotted hair with a firm, but trembling, hand, his eyes dazed in blind rage. I kick and scream as he grabs at my clothes, ripping them up with hardly any struggle. All the servants watch in horror as I'm left in nothing but my undergarments, and to my relief, it stops there. He stares down at me, blue locks draped around his face and casting a shadow over his eyes. He pants unevenly and watches as I cross my arms over my chest and curl up.

"S- S- Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry," I croak, hoping that he would do nothing more to me. I expected he'd be mad, but to do something like this? I shudder at the thought of him doing anything else. His eyes travel up and down my body, that madness fading into... regret? As though he suddenly became aware of his surroundings, he looks around us at the fear-struck servants, who stare at me in pity and shock. Their gazes make me want to hide in a hole and never come out. He glares at them, baring his teeth.

"What are you all looking at? Avert your eyes, lest you want me to pluck them from your skulls!" They immediately turn their backs, trembling just as violently as I am. I whimper and flinch as his hand touches my cheek, a softer look invading his eyes as he thought. Then, he lowers his lips to my ear and speaks in a hushed whisper. "Forgive me, but you did disobey my orders. Hopefully, now, you know better." I shakily nod my head and squeeze my eyes shut as he nestles against my neck. "You are... very pretty, farm girl." I could hear my heart pounding in my head, afraid of this unwanted intimacy, and it only gets worse when he says, "You should be for my eyes only." I gasp when he stands up and unsheathes the sword at his hip. It gleams in the sunlight shed in through the windows as he spins around, facing a butler.

"No!" I scream, but it was too late. In an instant, the man's throat was slit. The others scream and race for the door, pulling at the handle in panic as the King looks their way. I cover my ears and shut my eyes, but I could still hear their frantic knocking, their shouts of terror, gurgled choking and thuds as bodies dropped.

"S- S- Stop. Please, no m- more. No more," I mutter, crying heavily while quaking like a leaf. When silence falls, a tender hand rubs my side as if to comfort me.

"They won't look at you anymore. Now, let me see those lovely eyes of yours." Using all the strength I could muster, I shake my head. "I said, look at me," he says more firmly. I do not, even as he moves my face towards him. "I had to. It was rude of them to stare at someone that isn't theirs. Only I should ever view you like this. I will not share you with anyone else. You belong to me. You are mine." I jump, feeling his kiss on my cheek. "Open your eyes. You don't have to look at them. They don't deserve your pity anyway." Reluctantly, I open them only to regret it upon seeing his bloody face hovering over mine, dripping crimson all over my skin. I wanted to vomit. He smiles down at me, cupping my face in his hands.

"Your fear is absolutely delicious," he claims while kissing my lips. The action is much more possessive than the last one and lasted longer than a small peck. Squealing, I pound at his chest and cry as he parts. It takes everything in me not to look at the deceased when he did. Is this to be my life from now on, blood and death? True, I did not like them looking at me, but they didn't deserve that. They were just as horrified as I was. He's crazy, absolutely crazy! Though, there is one thing I could not help but question.

'Why did he look at me in regret?'