Thorns and Promises

The Truth

{Lilliana’s POV}

[Trigger Warning! This chapter contains themes of kidnapping, S/A, domestic abuse, torture, and drugging. Please read at your own discretion.]

{Lilliana’s POV}

“A-At the ball.. my father kept bringing Rosewood around.. he told me to drink the wine that they had brought to ease my nerves and celebrate.. he knew it was spiked.. he knew what Rosewood was going to do.. he planned it alongside him. He promised me to him.. and he was going to let him ruin me so I could never show my face in society again. I’d be forced to live out a quiet life with the man that took everything from me.. and my father would be free to rule.” My breathing was choppy, I heard it break a few times, ringing in my ears.

I turned on my heel, rushing back up to my room, closing and locking the door behind me. I ran into my bathroom and looked over myself, tears streamed down my cheeks, something I’d forgotten the feeling of until recently, now it seems as though crying has become the new norm.

As I stared at my reflection I heard a soft knock at the door. “Lilliana.. are you okay? My brothers told me what happened..” I could hear Anora’s voice say softly from the other side.

I wiped the tears from my face and sniffed walking to the door, I began to open it, then my hand froze in the air before I could reach the knob. Did I really want her to come in here right now.. for her to see me like this? For them to see me this weak.. the others already saw me crying.. I didn’t need them to continue to see me as being this fragile girl. “I’m fine Anora.. just a little tired.” I said softly.

“It’s understandable if you’re upset Lilliana.. I couldn’t imagine how this could have made you feel.” She said, her voice soft, careful, and controlled.

“I’m fine Anora, like I said.. I’m just tired.” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt anger, frustration, bitter sadness all washing over me. “If it’s okay, I’d like to skip dinner tonight, and get some much needed rest instead.” I tried my best to sound composed, but I couldn’t stop replaying that night in my mind. The memories of the wine glass my father handed to me.. Rosewood’s smirk, his hands on my body, raising my dress. He was going to ruin me.. and my father had planned this with him.. this knowledge had broken whatever tiny shred of hope I had for my father. Now, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he is truly a beast. “I-I..” my voice trembled, the sound catching in my throat, the words refusing to leave my lips as I stood in the room that my captors had given me. Was I really so weak, and pathetic that I’d allow the people that kidnapped me to comfort me? Am I that truly that horribly broken? No.. I couldn’t be.. I wouldn’t allow myself to be. I had to remain strong.. I had to remain composed.. I had to.. to.. I felt my knees giving out before I could register what was happening. I dropped to the floor, my knees slamming against the hard wood, I felt the cuts on my knees busting back open, felt the sting of the bruises that had yet to heal. None of it hurt as bad as what I’d learned though. I don’t think anything could ever top knowing how little you matter to someone that was supposed to love you unconditionally.

I held my breath, as if that could stop the tears from falling. As if this little bit of control I had over the entire uncontrollable situation would fix anything. I knew better.. I had been taught better. I was never in control, I would never be in control. I’d always be weak, fragile, broken.. something for others to use and manipulate into getting their way. I was a tool.. a tool used by my own father, a tool he tried to give away to someone who would’ve used me and thrown me away. I wasn’t even worth the effort of discarding himself.. he’d rather release me into the control of someone else to do it for him. Coward.. rotten bas****.. sick.. twisted.. disgusting old man! I felt sick, my entire life had been lived inside the four walls of my bedroom.. and the dungeons that seemed more like home to me than the pale pink bedroom my father kept me in. My whole world.. compiled into hours upon hours of staring at the same walls waiting to see anything else. Now I was here.. these people that stole me away from a life they didn’t know I was living. They care.. at least they pretend to.. I guess.. or maybe they’re just like him. Lying to my face, making wicked plans, destroying my future for their own selfish plans just like my father. Even if they were what could I do? I looked at the bandages wrapped around my hands, and sighed, wiping away the last remaining tears that slid down my cheek.

“Open the door Lilliana..” I could hear Anora on the other side, trying her best to turn the handle. I stared at the door, waiting for a long moment, sound eventually leaving my senses. Instead replaced by a soft humming sound that echoed in my room. What point was there in crying now? It’s over.. my father’s plan didn’t work.. I wasn’t assaulted.. right? I survived, and my purity is still in tact.. Adriel said as much.. so what’s the point of tears? What’s the point of feeling sorry for myself? This wasn’t helping anything.. this wasn’t fixing anything.. and this wouldn’t stop my father from continuing his rein of terror. The only thing I could do now was make myself useful.. help go over their maps, show them the weak points in the castle. Show them how to infiltrate my old home.. show them how to take down my father. In a lack for a better word, I was now a traitor.. a traitor to my king.. my kingdom.. and my family. I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for myself or my actions however. My father started this.. and whether he knew it or not, I was going to finish it.

The ringing in my ears that had started as a soft hum was now like a siren. My head spun, a sharp pain bursting behind my eyes. I was fine.. wasn’t I? I was okay just a moment ago.. I fell over to my side, gripping my eyes and closing my eyes. I just needed to rest.. just close my eyes, then I’d be fine again.