Chapter 18 • Enslaved -1
1336 Words
Lucien kept a bored expression as he examine the undeniable fear that consumed the two trembling peasants before him.
Despite the darkness of the evening, he could see both of them too clearly.
He lazily blinked his eyes, deciding to skim over their appearance before ending them. He first gazed at the quivering small boy; then slowly to the girl.
His brows instantly quirked.
His mind suddenly fell intrigued at sight of the girl's eyes Her violet colored eyes were a rare sight to behold.
Most humans had brown, black, blue and sometimes green eyes.
But her sweet violet eyes were quite unique. His cold gaze then trailed up to the strands of her extremely long black hair that were now dirtied with twigs, mud and dust—having trangled strands.
Her face was smeared and scratched, with her chin badly injured as blood dripped down and staining the top her dress.
He suddenly heard the shivering girl mumble. "Ple– Please, do– do not kill him".
He knitted his brows. The girl gulped with quivering lips, gingerly raising her hands to wrap around the small boy who numbed in fear. She squeezed him tightly in her arms, wetting her cracked lips.
"Pl– Please, spare him... He– He is just a child. He did not do anything wrong. Please let him leave and take my life alone", her eyes began to water as she buried the boy's face in her crook, covering his face.
She was trying to protect him, despite the chancy situation they found themselves. She stroke his back, staring at him in obvious terror.
"Please", she mumbled.
He watched the boy wrap his arms around the girl's neck as if she could protect him. He had faith in his sister even in such a situation.
"He has done nothing wrong", tears fell from her eyes as she lowered her head.
Lucien was slightly taken aback. Such bravery from a little girl who would have been dead less than a minute ago. Despite her chances of mercy, she still had the courage and guts in the face of death to beg—but not for her life, but for her little brother—who seemed to have bestowed all his trust on her.
He continued to watch the two hug themselves while shaking. Lucien then narrowed his eyes.
On the other hand, Athalia hugged Owen tightly, mumbling prayers that hopefully her brother would be spared and saved from their unjust death sentence.
She sobbed loudly, slowly raising her head up to glance at the man before them. He abruptly lifted his sword above his head, locking his eyes on them.
Her and Owen shrieked, clutching unto each other in hopes that their death would be as painless and swift as possible.
The sword broke the air, sweeping right above their heads by a few inches. A crack sound then echoed by the side, causing them to flinch with their eyes still shut.
Another crack sound echoed, as if a small branch was cracked. They then felt the sword swing above their heads again.
Athalia slowly opened her eyes, gingerly raising her gaze to his face. She scrunched her brows in confusion. He stood with his sword returned back into his belt, while holding a small piece of tree bark in his hand.
She slowly glanced at the tree next to him, sighting the mark that sword made on it's bark. She then heard him say, "The Kilwa tree is a very rare plant found only in the deepest parts of the forest, it's bark as been proved to heal wounds fasted than any herbs. Unfortunately, majority are yet to discover it".
He snapped and folded the piece of bark between his fingers, flattening it. He flicked it from his finger to hit Athalia's forehead. She quickly caught it as it bounced off her skull into her palm.
"Place it on your chin", he ordered with a bored look. Flickering her eyes between him and the piece of bark; she gingerly placed it on her chin.
She hissed immediately, feeling the strong sting caused by the bark's sap. Pressing it against her bruised chin, she then looked up at the man.
"Th– Thank you", she stuttered.
"Do not thank me, because I have not saved you yet".
A crease forms above her brows. Owen slowly pull away, but still resting his head on Athalia's shoulder—hugging her tightly.
"What are your names?" He asked.
"Athalia", she pointed herself. "And Owen", she pointed the boy. "Children of Simpson".
The man then said, "Well, Athalia, you both are as good as dead if I let you return back to your town".
"HUH?"
"The second a guard of your kingdom sights you, you and your brother will be beheaded on the spot for treason".
Their eyes widened.
With an undisturbed look, the man then snapped his finger in the air. The beast behind them then growled, gaining their attention.
Slowly, it's form began to dissolve into dust, building up into a black mare. They gasped.
The horse neighed, stepping straight to the stranger man as it bowed at his side. He gently patted the horse's head. Athalia and Owen were beyond amazed at such sorcery.
The man gently rubbed the horse's mane, "You have only two options. One, I leave you and you take the risk of roaming into a town and get killed instantly. Or two, you pledge your lives to my domain, in exchange for you and your brother's safely".
Athalia's brows shot up.
The man continued to stroke his loyal mammal, then stepped to the side and mounted it. "You have less then five seconds to decide. You commit suicide by going free, or you pledge your lifelong loyalty to me and live till you die".
Athalia's heart gripped at the word... Lifelong. She gulped, hugging Owen tighter. The man on the other hand, had on a plain and emotionless expression, as he pulled the bridle of his horse.
"I assume your pick is one, isn't it? Very well", he shook the bridle, having the horse neigh, ready to race forward.
"Wait!" He halted the horse, gazing at them on the ground.
She sighed, licking her lips. She then gazed at Owen and back, gently rubbing his arm. "I– ... I mean, we... We pledge our loyalty and lives to you... You... Mister?"
"Lucien. Prince Lucien Creed II. Royal heir of the Thembelo Kingdom".
Athalia and Owen's jaws dropped in shock.
~
Queen Petra sat on a cushion set next to the large window in her and her husband's room, staring up hopelessly at the starless sky.
With the entire room lit by candles from the chandelier. Her husband, King Amos, walked in from the shower room, having his robe tied on.
Padding to the dressings table, he applied his body ointment, before turning in her direction. He slowly strode to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
She remained still, staring at the sky. "Come to bed, Petra. You need the rest".
"Let me be, your majesty", she said in a weak voice, not looking at his face.
Amos sighed. He stretched forward, slowly lowering his head to hers, attempting to place a kiss on her temple—she pulled away.
Amos sighed once more, then straightening his back. He rubbed her shoulders, having her she hissed in disgust, shrugging off his hands. The man grimaced, feeling his already mourning heart break further at his wife's coldness.
He looked down sadly, before padding to the bed and lying down to sleep.
As Queen Petra continued to look at the sky, she let her fingers touch the ruby around her neck, rubbing it softly.
Glancing randomly, she immediately sighted the incoming carriage reaching the castle gates. Narrowing her eyes to see better, also with the help of the touch fires outside—she then realized it was a royal carriage.
The royal carriage of the Werleria kingdom.
- Writer
