Chapter 4 : The Royal Castle
1064 Words
When the vehicle jerks to a stop and before I can process what's happening, the door swings open. Cold air rushes in but it does nothing to cool the panic surging through me.
My breath stutters.
Where are we?
I realise with a sickening jolt, that I hadn't paid attention to where they were taking me. I had been too busy spiralling-too lost in my own fear that I hadn't paid attention to where they're taking me.I had been too busy spiralling-too lost in my own fear, my own desperation-to track the roads, the turns, the passage of time. don't know where I am and the thought alone makes me cry all over again! "I want Chase and I want him now! I need him to come and get me right this instant!"
As I finally take in my surroundings, a jolt of shock runs through me. I know this place.
My breath catches as recognition dawns. I've seen it countless times on television, just like million other citizens-flashes of it appearing in grand broadcasts, in carefully curated glimpses of royal life.
The Palace.
For a moment I forget why I'm here. I forget the fear, the confusion, the tears still drying on my cheeks. All I can do is stare in awe completely captivated by the sheer magnificence before me.
The palace is breathtaking.
Its towering white stone walls gleam under the sunlight, adorned with intricate gold, detailing that catches and scatters the light like tiny stars. Enormous arch windows strech high, framed by carved columns, while grand balconies overlook the sweeping landscape beyond. The entire structure exudes power, history and untouchable wealth.
The grounds are just as mesmerising-immaculate gardens sculpted with artistic precision, hedges trimmed to perfection, fountains that sparkle with cascading water, their soft murmurs adding to the surreal atmosphere. A long polished driveway stretches towards the entrance, lined with towering oak trees that stand like silent sentinels.
At the perimeter, just as I've seen on television, armed guards in pristine navy blue uniforms stand attention, their gold buttons glinting in the light. Beyond them more figures in sleek black suites patrol the grounds-dangerous men who move with silent efficiency, their presence a silent warning.
Everything about this place screams wealth power and control and I've just been delivered here.
I expect the car to slow as we approach the opulent front- entrance - the very one I have seen countless of times on television, where dignitaries, royalty and the elite of society are received with pomp and ceremony. Instead, the vehicle veers sharply, following a narrow, less conspicuous road that winds around the side of the palace, towards a less impressive - and far more ominous entrance.
A side door.
A servants entrance. A prisoner's entrance.
My stomach turns.
No cameras, no royal guards standing attention. Just cold, grey stone and shadows stretching across the dimly light passage.
This is where secrets are brought in. Where things that should't be seen are quietly dealt with, far from the public eye.
Fear coils in my stomach, cold and unrelenting. This isn't what I imagined a palace to look like. Where is the marble? The chandeliers? The elegance and opulence fit for royalty? Instead the deeper we go, the sinister everything becomes. The air is thick with dampness-carrying the faint scent of mildew and something metallic-something that makes my skin crawl. The once grand walls now seem rough, aged and cracked, the flickering light overhead casting eerie shadows that dance like spectres along the stone.
A chill slivers down my spine.
I'm not just being taken somewhere.
I'm being hidden and the realisation settles deep in my bones like ice.
Whoever Master Lucien is he doesn't want the world to know I'm here.
My pulse pounds as I stumble down a dimly lit corridor, the walls narrowing, closing in around me like a living suffocating thing.
My breath stutters as we pass a through security check point, a heavy steel door locking beside us with a resounding click. One of the men enters a code on a keypad and for a fleeting second, my panic spikes. Where are they taking me?
Then I see it.
My stomach plummets.
A dungeon.
A bloody dungeon.
The sight nocks the wind out of my lungs. Rows of iron-barred cells stretch before me, the cold stone floors slick with moisture. Chains dangle from the walls, their metallic clinks sending a shiver down my spine. A deep unsettling silence fills the space, broken only by the distant drip of water echoing off the cavernous walls.
I refuse to move.
My feet root to the ground, my entire body locking up in protest. No. No, no, NO.
"I'm not going in there!" I twist, fight,dig my heels in, but my resistance means nothing against the brute strength of the men flanking me.
Unceremoniously they drag me forward.
"No - please! You don't understand!" My voice cracks as they shove me into a cold, empty cell. I stumble, barely catching myself before my knees slam into the damp stone floor.
Then the finality of it hits.
The heavy gates slam shut behind me, the harsh clang reverberating through the chamber, sealing my fate. I whirl around, eyes wide, heart hammering as one of the men turns the key in the lock.
"No, this has to be a mistake!" I scream, my hands clutching at the bars, my fingers curling around the rusted iron. "Please - please don't leave me here!"
They don't even hesitate, my pleas of desperation falling on deaf ears. Not a single glance back. No explanation. No reassurance.
Nothing.
They simply ignore me and walk toward the only exit- the same door that led me into this nightmare- without a shred of remorse.
My breath comes in ragged gasps, the realisation slamming into me like a freight train.
They have the wrong person.
"You idiots took the wrong girl!" I shout, gripping the bars so tightly my knuckles turn white. My desperation gives way to fury, the fight in me sparking again."Let me out the instant, you imbeciles!"
The response is deafening silence.
Then-click.
The sound of the door locking behind them.
A single, final noise that trembles through my mind like a death sentence
- and just like that, I am alone.
Alone, locked in a dungeon beneath the most powerful palace in the country.
- Writer
