Hint of Sweet

Warning: This chapter may contain graphic descriptions of physical discomfort that might be uncomfortable for certain readers. Please read at your own digression.

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"Princess, are you scared of dying?"

She had forgotten that she was still in his arms, and she looked up to see that he had lightly planted a kiss on her forehead.

"No," she lied. She had thought of dying before, but whenever she saw the rays of sunlight kiss the horizons, painting them in peach and violet hues, she was glad to be alive. What's more, she had to kill him before she died. Otherwise, she wouldn't even be able to close her eyes in peace.

"I won't let you die." His voice was soft, a mere whisper as if he had been talking to himself. "Your life is mine, and no one else can take it."

"My life is my own and no one else's." She stared at him, too tired to angrily argue with him. "I may be your war prize, but I will not allow myself to become a trophy resting on your shelves."

He didn't speak, instead looking away. But his grip on her did not loosen.

They stood at this standstill in silence, and the assassin on the floor looked up at the embraced couple in disdain.

He wanted to comment on the situation, but he couldn't open his mouth without wincing. The pain had temporarily subsided, but just as he took another breath, the agony returned, stronger than ever.

He had to make it out of here alive. He had to report back to his master about his new findings.

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It was hard to tell the passage of time here in the dungeons. No rays of sunlight dared to penetrate through the thick walls, and it was impossible to tell where the sun was in its course through the sky.

"Your Majesty!"

Daphne blinked open to those words, not knowing when she had drifted asleep. Looking around, she found that she had been sitting on the Northern King's lap, his fur cloak draped over her shoulders like a blanket.

"The antidote!"

The servant brought a cup of steaming brown liquid forward, and she could see the assassin's eyes linger hungrily at the foul potion.

After what had happened, she didn't know whether she could trust these drinks.

She didn't have much time to contemplate the safety of the liquid. Almost as soon as the delivery arrived in the cell, two servants forced it down the assassin's throat.

He gurgled, choking on the brown liquid as it flooded the back of his throat. Then, it was quiet.

He lay on the ground, still. He must have prescribed himself the most poisonous of substances, Daphne reasoned. This way, the moment it slipped down his throat, he would be dead, not having to worry about the Northern King's promises of eternal suffering.

The flicker of hope in her eyes dimmed.

The assassin suddenly retched, black tar oozing out from the corner of his mouth. Drop by drop, the poison drained from his body. Daphne watched the scene unfold in horror as a giant centipede crawled out from the gap between his teeth. Clamoring down his body, its wiry legs made their way slowly towards Daphne, and she shuffled in her seat, only to remember that she had been sitting on the Northern King.

Looping one arm around her back, he crushed the bug in one swift movement. Before Daphne could register it, the corpse of the insect hung limply from the bottom of his feet.

She stifled a gasp, realizing that a similar creature was worming around within her own body at the very given moment. The Northern King must have realized this as well, and he gave her hands a small squeeze as he brought another cup of the same liquid towards her lips.

Bracing herself for the foul taste, she clamped her nostrils shut to keep the smell out. Even so, she could pick up strong wafts of the scent. It smelled vaguely of dead wood, the odor of decay seeping into her every pore.

The corner of the bowl inched closer and closer to her lips, and she shut her eyes.

"Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them."

She bit her lips, wanting to wait one more moment to mentally prepare herself.

A sweetness suddenly washed over her tongue as a drop of honey rolled down her throat. No, although it had the consistency of honey, its taste was distinctly different. The candy was heavenly, the pleasant taste instantly clearing her mind.

Ever since she was a child, Daphne had loved sweets. After growing up, she had been constantly reminded of how she was an adult, and adults did not enjoy such treats. Priding herself as the perfect image of a princess, she rarely was able to sneak in a bite. So now, all she could think of was how much she missed the taste.

She didn't have time to savor it. Almost immediately, a hot liquid slid down her throat.

She could barely taste it, the residual sweetness from the candy masking the bitterness.

"Remember, don't open your eyes." She wanted to do so out of pure defiance. He must have read her mind since he soon added, "Don't do it, or I will kill someone."

A little spot of warmth seeded in her stomach, slowly spreading as the antidote took root and branched out. A light tingling sensation trickled to her limbs, and something moved within her. The sudden jolt shook her, but a pair of hands steadied her.

Something tickled the back of her throat, and she felt a wave of disgust suddenly crash over her. Hot liquid pooled in her mouth, and she reflexively tried to suppress the urge to vomit. It wasn't proper for a princess after all.

The pair of hands on her back clearly had different ideas. A painful pat to the back opened her mouth, and the contents she had been forcing down came spilling out.

Another wave quickly followed, and Daphne began to feel as if she was retching her stomach out as something still tickled at the back of her throat, blocking her breathing.

"It'll be over soon." A worried voice sounded.

Another study pat, and she felt an object lurch forward.