8 An Awful Start

In front of Alora's bedroom,

Alora paused to see two young girls at the door. They trembled when she went near and lowered their head, "M-my l-l-lady, w-we will be s-serving you t-tonight." Both stammered in fear

Alora knew why those two were scared. They were thinking that she might burn them alive. Only if they knew she couldn't even kill a fly, much less hurt a human.

Alora entered her room as she dismissed them, "It's not required. You may leave." Her mellow voice had a hint of dominance.

The two young girls scurried away before Alora could even close the door.

Alora closed the door and leaned on it. She was aware from her childhood that they would be returning to the palace sooner or later. Her mother and father had always prepared her, yet the anxiety surfaced in her heart. But she didn't want to trouble her mother and father anymore.

She looked at her bedroom in the royal palace which was too spacious and opulent with the shimmers, and intricate details of every object. The royal custom says that's how the royals should live. But Alora liked her previous room, it wasn't too simple but sophisticated and elegant.

Unlike the queen and king having separate rooms for everything, The princess will have their study, a small living hall, and a mattress in the same room. Her closet was in the smaller attached room connected to the bathroom.

She waited for her grandfather who always narrated the real stories of late kings and queens and their love stories.

Today she wanted to learn about how the throne chooses the king for its queen. And how could the same person be the soulmate of the queen?

However, his grandfather didn't arrive and she realized Orla probably stopped him as she will be living in the palace.

She picked a chemise from the closet and changed to sleepwear. Exhausted due to the strenuous climbing of mountains, she dozed off as soon as her head hit the pillow.

——————

Far away from the palace, in a manor,

A man was sitting on a luxurious chair wearing a silk robe over his shoulder, wrapped at his narrow waist. His blonde hair was wet from the bath, and his thin pair of lips were pursued in a thin line. His brows were tight in a frown of dissatisfaction.

His fingers clutched the wine flute tight as he lifted his hand. Opening his eyes, his obsidian orbs glimmered under the candlelight. He sipped the wine mulling over how he missed Alora and Eugenie in the forest. He was right behind them but suddenly they disappeared into thin air.

'Some kind of magic?' He wondered

His eyes sharpened when he heard a raven cawing at the window sitting on the branch of a tree. Seeing it was difficult in the darkness but its eyes shimmered just like the man's eyes.

Leaving the wine flute on the side table, he stood up from the chair and sat on the floor with his legs crossed, back straight, and his palm cupping the other one in his lap.

His lips moved when he started incantation and shortly he opened his inner eyes and found Alora sleeping. Her breathing was stable, her fair skin glowed in honey tint under the candlelight. Her fiery red hair locks were spread on the pristine pillow like a piece of art.

If she wasn't breathing, it wouldn't be hard to misidentify her as a lifeless exquisite doll.

He loomed over her body and drew a deep breath of her intoxicating lavender scent and a vile smirk graced his face.

He held her delicate hand, brushing his callous tips over her slender fingers. She was the most splendid piece of art he had ever seen. As much as he wanted to admire her, the possessiveness started to brim his eyes.

Suddenly Alora squirmed as if she could sense his presence and touch.

He ignored and held her wrist and grazed up her buttery smooth skin. His eyes darkened when she tried to avoid him. He was shocked at the realization that she could feel him, angered due to her protest.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against the mattress. She started crying and he didn't care. His gaze fell on her quivering pink lips and her swan-like neck. That filled his eyes with lust.

Unfortunately, he didn't know where she was. He could only see and feel her skin.

Giving in to the temptation, he glided his fingers to the crook of her neck and her protest increased, making him angrier. He clutched her throat and started squeezing her neck, finding satisfaction in her struggles.

….

In the palace, Alora broke into cold sweat very soon. The same obsidian eyes were hovering above her. The strange feeling of crawling under her skin made her clutch the mattress.

She wanted to believe her mother's words and consider those eyes as her imagination. But her heart pounded in her chest, alerting her about the danger.

Her breathing twitched when the shimmer of the obsidian eyes darkened as if his prey escaped his hold.

She felt cold fingers grazing her bare hand. Her body quivered at the repulsive touch, she tried to take her hand away but the cold fingers wrapped around her wrist and pressed her hand against the mattress.

What seemed like sharp nails of fingers pierced her wrist. The pain shot through her nerves, causing her to cry out, "F-Father…" but she couldn't even hear herself.

The callous fingers of another hand glided on the soft skin of her neck making her feel disgusted. Those terrifying eyes darkened in anger at her reaction. The cold fingers suddenly clutched her neck and started choking her.

Alora struggled to get out of the hand but her body was paralyzed. Her lungs started to burn without air, as her chest raised, losing every bit of air in her lungs.

Suddenly, her body violently jerked and her eyes shot open. Her eyes were bloodshot in fear and tears rolling out of her eyes blurred her vision. Alora slapped the stranger in front of her with all her might.

The stranger's eyes dangerously zeroed at her before he straightened his back, clenching his teeth, every cell of him was emitting the deathly coldness, looking down at her like she was a criminal.

His ink-blue eyes darkened when he noticed the reddish-black marks on Alora's slender neck slowly fading away. His eyes fell on her quivering hands and noticed the red and swollen left wrist.

The stranger had ebony, short hair that slightly covered his forehead. The ink-blue eyes held a chilly gaze, without revealing a hint of his emotions. He watched over with a stronghold as if nothing could miss his eyes.

Behind the coldness of the fearsome man, there were untouchable stunning features. His eyes narrowly sat in his eagle-like sockets. The brows were thick, complimenting his chiseled jawline. A perfectly set straight nose and his lips made him look effortlessly attractive.

His imposing air with his tall, sturdy appearance was as if one couldn't move his heart whatsoever. He looked just like the cruel kings of the fictional books Alora read in her boredom.

Face flushed in tears, shaking in fear and holding her breath, Alora grabbed the duvet and covered herself. She crawled against the bedpost, intimidated by his presence when their eyes met. She wanted to look away but her eyes refused as if he was pulling her into the dark whirlpool of his eyes.

"Alora…" It was the king's worried voice.

Alora gave into her fear and burst into tears hearing her grandfather's voice, "Grandfather." Her voice was barely audible when her throat burned as she tried to breathe.

The king hugged her, sitting at the bedside. Freya came running into the room after sensing the commotion in her room.

"Child, it was a nightmare. It's all over." The King repeatedly rubbed Alora's back, feeling heartbroken for his granddaughter, who was never so frightened in her life.

Her start in the royal palace couldn't be any worse.