A Whole New World Chapter 10
It was her nail-biting that confirmed her fear that this could possibly not get worse than this.
Musa wasn't exactly sure when she started biting her nails. Maybe she was three and was bored. Maybe she was feeling funny, mistaking the uneasiness of her stomach as hunger, and decided the nails would satisfy her. What she did know was everytime that familiar uneasiness shook her, her finger was automatically set in her mouth, her teeth chomping away.
She did when she watched her family home go up in flames, being consumed by the raging fire, praying for her parents to come through the smoke.
The time she and Flora were six and had snuck out of the castle to go the carnival, not understanding how easy it was to get lost in the crowd and forget which way was home.
And now. Staring outside the window, watching the never-ending blizzard carry on as it blew hard against the castle, biting her nail down to the skin as she was lost in her thoughts.
A question that constantly rotated around her mind was how?
How, she wondered, was it possible that a day that started off so ordinary ended in such tragic, blood-shed?
A day where the planet she loved like a second home was take over? Where the people suffered the lost of everything they held dear? A day where hell literally let loose in ice?
It wasn't enough that the vile bastard sprang chaos in Linphea. He declared himself as hailing conqueror, taking a friction of citizens including her and Flora back to his planet and leaving the rest to rot in a planet where the plants were dying, food was scare, and the rivers were slowly drying up. Under the strict supervision of his most trusted (and most vile) advisors who'd surely bring misery into their new hell.
Musa pulled her chewed-up finger away from her lips, her azure eyes sneaking a peek over at the angelic-faced little girl who was lying in bed, lost in her dreams.
Rose. That was her name. At four years old, the girl had lost her home, her mother, and now possibly her freedom.
She had held onto the girl as she was boarded onto O'Neil's ship, rubbing comforting circles against her back while she hummed a lullaby, attempting to calm the fearful child as they arrived to the ice planet.
To Musa's surprise, she wasn't immediately sent off to the ice-dungeons with the rest of the people. The guard-the violet-eyed, red-haired murderer grasped her arm and led her, with the Rose still in her arms, to a room that on the other side of the castle. A master guest room completed with a large king-size bed, a private balcony overlooking the Ice Mountains, and a private bathroom, done in gorgeous shades of silver and white.
Truth be told, it was far nicer than the tiny, closet-spaced room she had. She was treated, not as a servant or even a high lady, but a special type of guest with the maids checking her sheets and bringing her fresh towels every morning, meals appearing on wheel by her door three times a day, and free to do what she wanted in her room. Yet, no matter how nice the room or how "nice" she was being treated, Musa wasn't fooled. She wasn't a guest. She was a prisoner, a song-bird trapped in a nice cage meant to assume the bastard and his hound.
Guards were posted outside her door, ordered to put her down if she as so much as took a step out the door. The room was spelled with dark magic that weakened her powers immensely. The room was kept a freezing, negative-degree temperature that wasn't enough to kill them but enough to feel their heart struggle to pump blood under the icy conditions.
As bad as things were for her, it was nothing compared to what might be happening to Flora.
Her heart cried out for her best friend who lost her father, a good friend, a friend who had became her prince, and her home all in one day. Enslaved princess held prisoner by the man who was the cause of her misery.
The crack in her heart widened, leaking out more blood as she thought of her other two best friends.
Helia who was stabbed in the back, left for dead.
Timmy, sweet dorky Timmy, who was killed by-
Her thoughts broken at the sound of the door opening. One hand immediately went down to her thigh, where a knife was strapped around her leg.
She tried masking her surprise, along with her anger, as he entered the room, eyes sweeping across the room before settling on her.
"Most people down at the dungeon would kill to have even a bite for this." He referred to the plate of chicken breast, mixed vegetables, and bread sitting by her dresser, untouched.
Despite her self-control, she couldn't contain the snort that slipped past her lips. "Sure, they would. And then panic, realizing too late that every food O'Neil sent me was laced with poison that would paralyze every limb in the body until it crushes the heart altogether, killing them slowly. All to satisfy the sickness that is your prince? Yea, I don't think so."
A brow arched slightly, cracking the wall of indifference. He looked impressed almost by her ability to see through the prince's seemingly generosity.
"Wow," he commented, his voice low and flat. "You're smarter than you look."
It was a struggle to keep her mouth shut tight, holding in all the insults and curses she wanted to flung to him like aimed arrows. But that was what he wanted. He wanted to see how far she could be pushed. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, turning her attention back to the snowstorm.
He joined her by the window. Unable to fight her curious nature, she snuck a quick peek at him.
He was an asshole, no doubt about it. A smug, irritating asshole. She couldn't deny though that he was a good-looking one. A good face. Nice body. And his eyes, the most electric shade of violet, intense and deadly, which she believed were his best features.
Nevertheless, he was still an asshole. Not even an asshole; the word seemed almost too subtle for him. He was a bastard, just like his master.
A bastard that saved your life, a voice whispered to her, reminding her of what took place during the castle invasion.
She was held down by O'Neil, who were as every bit as polite as the prince himself. She would have been raped, she was sure of that. Yet there he was, standing in the door frame, shooting one in the head and pinning a death star to the other's neck.
Why did he save her? He didn't bat an eye when Mirta's poor body was tossed onto the ground like a ragdoll. He didn't care at all when other women were handled roughly as they were shoved onto the ships. So what made her so important?
"You king was a fool." he declared, breaking the silence between them.
Surprise rattled her when she heard him speak. Her surprise quickly changed to anger as his words sank in. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he answered, paying no mind to the sharpness of her voice. "Your king is a fool. He and the former king may have been friends, but the rumors of the Prince's cruelty are works of nightmares. No sane man would consider such a man to be the husband to his daughter."
A growl erupted from her. She clenched her teeth to keep herself from exploding. "King Edmund was a great man. A wise man. He believed everyone is granted the benefit of doubt until they proved they're not worthy of it. It was one of many traits that his people respected him. Loved him for."
River-no, no Riven (an odd name for an even odder man) snorted. "A trait that got him killed in the end."
Bastard. "Shut. Up."
He spared her a glance, cocking his brow. "Why so angry, little songbird? Can't handle the truth? Did I diminish the goldy image of your perfect king? Was a nerve stuck because your admiration ran a bit deeper? Did your duties as a servant involving pleasing the princess in gossip and he in bed?"
Goddamn, no-good, stinking son of a- her hand flew at his face, swinging hard against his flesh, turning his head to the opposite direction.
"Fuck you!"
She was proud to see a red handprint painted on his cheek, even if her hand stung from the hit. He tenderly rubbed his cheek, and looked to her with a look in his eye that was close to annoyance.
"This," he said, shaking his head. "is the type of attitude that's going to make your friend's life a living hell before she walks down the aisle."
Flora. Musa's stomach dropped like a steel plate down to her feet. "Where is she?"
"In the Queen's quarters, adjusting to her home. She'll be perfectly safe-right into her wedding day."
"You tell me where the hell she is, you bastard, or I swear I'll-"
"You'll what?" he challenged, a dangerous glint in his eyes that chilled her. "Use your weakened powers to blast a few guards? Fight your way through hundreds of armed men patrolling the castle? Get yourself killed trying to save your princess? I got news for you, sweetheart. She isn't worth your neck."
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"I do actually. The princess pays you a nice fee for your services, so you think you're bound to her. Well I got news for you. She isn't worth it. I don't give a flying fuck how much she pays you. We live to serve, not be their personal shields."
Pay? That was what he thought she was worried about? That a few golden coins tied her loyalty?
Musa stepped right in front of him, looked him dead in the eye, and said to him "You are so clueless. Princess Flora is more than my mistress. She's my best friend. She's my sister. I love that girl. I'd kill for her. And if it came between her life and mine, I'd go. No questions asked."
Riven studied her, taking her words into account, trying to see if there was a hidden agenda behind them. Finding nothing but the solid truth, he seemed almost…confused. In that moment she saw that despite the fact they have similar backgrounds, their upbringing was as different as the sun and the moon.
His eyes softened to a degree the longer he looked at her. His hand unwound itself from her neck and trailed down to her chin, where he held almost gently.
"Even so, she's not worth your life, songbird." His eyes skimmed down from her eyes, past her nose, down to her lips. His gaze warm yet soft as a light caress.
Her next breath was caught in her throat as he moved closer, the distance between them practically nonexistent. One step, her heart leaped up to her throat. Another, she tried to breath easily, despite the beating of her heart. One last step, she parted her lips and closed her eyes-
The memory of Timmy wrapped in Riven's hands popped into her mind, his head snapping to the other direction, the sound of the fetal crack brining equal amounts of her forgotten hatred and guilt.
"Get back." She took a step back and shoved him. Hard.
He opened his mouth to speak but she quickly beat him to the punch.
"You have some nerve. You think you can come into here, say something decent, and make a move on me? When days ago you aided the prince in the destruction of Linphea?"
He met her words with a look that was darker than any glare she ever received from Cora the Terrible.
"I hate to break to you, but I'm not one to forgive and forget so easily. Your bastard of a prince murdered a man who was the closest thing I had to a father. Along with an innocent girl who was practically a child. He and his men killed, tortured, and captured the king's people. He's doing God-knows-what to my best friend. And my other best friend is now a cold corpse, thanks to you. You killed him without hesitation. With no regret."
How she possibly think there was anything remotely decent in him? Timmy's murderer? What possessed her to think such a thing? What possessed her into leaning in for that kiss?
"You may be able to wash the blood off your hands so easily, but there will always be that stain. It will be there, no matter how hard you scrub. And the people affected by the blood-spill will always remember."
She gained a response from him. A silent one. A cocked eyebrow and narrowed eyes.
"Anything else you liked to add?" he asked.
Musa thought carefully, wanting her final words to make her mark. To deliver her blow. But in the end, she was tired, and figured there was only one thing she could say. "Get the hell out of my room."
With a slow nod of his head, he turned around and walked towards the door.
'The wedding is in three days," he told her. "I suggest you use the time to figure out what your next move is going to be."
The door shut softly behind him.
A hot, lone tear dripped down her cheek, burning her skin like acid.
Alone in the Queen's chambers, the memories of the ghosts hanging heavily in the silence, Flora stared back at the white rose on her lap.
It wad given to her by O'Neil as an early wedding present, before she was shoved into his mother's old room filled with things belonging to a person who was no longer alive but without a head. All because of her cruel, mad son.
The rose was beautiful. Fully blossomed and perfect down to the last petal.
Yet as beautiful as it was, she knew there was danger behind the flower.
Roses, my dear Flora, her father had told her when she was a little girl. The two were in her mother's rose garden and had taken her into his arms, presenting to her a beautiful pink rose. Are one of nature's most misunderstood creatures. At a quick glance, one assumes the flower is helpless. Pretty to see, weak to fight. They misunderstand that the flower is just as a flytrap. It lures people in with its beauty and then bites when they have them with their thrones. Remember, my dear. Every rose is a beautiful deception, sharp with its steel thrones.
Daddy. Tears stung her eyes, filling them to the vein, threatening to spill. She kept them in. She refused to cry.
Tears weren't going to help her now.
Her stomach churned at the sound of the door opening. The contents within kicked her hard as he spoke.
"Interesting," O'Neil said. She could feel his thin lips curving into his signature, cruel smile behind her. "Had I know a simple flower would make you behave, I would have brought you a bouquet of roses."
I would have used them to slap that arrogant smirk off your lips.
"Perhaps I should try the same with that musical friend of yours. She's a nut one to crack. I'd be nothing but the perfect gentleman, giving her and that child with her food, a good room, and clothes. Yet she regrets it all. Or perhaps I should try a different attempt. Personally straighten out the loose keys, then share the wonder of music with my men. After all that fighting and killing, they deserve some fun, don't you think?"
"You as so much as lay a hand on Musa, I'll straighten you myself." she said, her words cold and hard.
O'Neil moved himself in front of her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. Flora allowed him to handle her. She met his gaze. She used the opportunity to show much she despised him, unleashing every ounce of anger and hatred in her eyes.
To her dismay, the prince wasn't swayed. He smiled, amused.
"You shouldn't frown so much, my dear," he told her. "It's not attractive."
She forced herself to remain still.
"I come bearing good news. For the past few days you've kept yourself up at night, wondering what will become of you. Well I came to rest your weary head. The wedding will commence in three days time, during the Celestica eclipse, which will increase my power to a hundred fold."
Flora repiled to the news with a dark, heated glare.
The psychotic prince made a sour face that reminded her of a child unsatisfied with their toy. "Come on, my dear. Don't be so bitter. Every girl, I'm told, dreams of this day,"
She is when she is marrying a good man. Not a monster.
"I don't understand why you are excited. It will be a night to die for. I'll be at my most powerful. I'll gain a new planet to rule. I'll have a new bride to bear me sons. Perhaps even a daughter who can be useful to me in given time," He smiled pleasantly at her, leaning down and brushing down her hair. "I'm also planning a great meal in your honor, for both you and your friend. For her, she'll be served the steamed, seasoned head that four-eyed cockroach she was fond of. You will be served the head of that useless, blue-haired peasant. I'm sure they'll be appetizing. After all, my hounds clearly enjoyed devouring your father's corpse."
It took every ounce of patience and self-control the young princess had to keep herself together, calm, and not give into the rage.
"I should gather up the scraps and make them into a sweater for you. That way you'll always have a piece of your father with you."
He laughed hard at his own joke, laughing so hard he was in tears.
Flora clenched her teeth so hard, she could feel her morsels cracking.
Wiping away a tear, he shook his head at her as if he was scolding a child. "Don't act as if you are a tragic martyr, my dear. You brought this to yourself. You should have accepted my hand the first time I presented it. Now your planet is in ruins, your people are my pawns to use and discard, and your dear father is dead. Oh well," He shrugged. "As the saying goes. The past is the past. We can only look forward to the future. And mine is looking incredibly bright."
Giving her one last smile, he headed towards the door. His cocky stance came to an abrupt halt when she spoke.
"I wouldn't start trying on the crowns yet if I were you, Prince O'Neil, especially given the possibility that your head might be rolling around the ground before the crowing ceremony even begins."
Her words got to him. She could tell by the tension stiffening his body and the tightening of his fists.
She was proud of her words.
She paid for those words.
Pain, swift yet brutal, smacked her across her face, knocking her off her seat and onto the ground.
Attempting to breathe normally, Flora pressed a shaky hand against her swollen cheek. Her flesh protested against the touch, increasing the searing pain. She bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself calm.
"Well, well, well. I see you still have that smart, little mouth of yours," he commented. "No matter. I know plenty of ways to shut it up."
He left the room. The guards locked the doors behind him.
Flora slowly rose to her feet, her hand still holding her bruised cheek. She looked over at the flower.
Remember, my dear. Every rose is a beautiful deception, sharp with its steel thrones.
It was time to unleash the thrones.
AN: Hey guys. First off I want to say I'm so so so sorry it took me forever to update the story. I had ideas and plans, but other ideas and plans with school and life got in the work. But I promise you. I will finish this story. I'm hoping before the year is out. Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, subscribing, and favoriting. You guys rock. Also, while you're here, check out my other stories. You may enjoy them.