Freya died a thousand deaths after he left. For minutes, she stood frozen in place as she looked at where he had been sitting like she could still see him there.
“Oh my God,” she said, crashing to the cold floor. “What is this?“ Strangely, even after everything that happened, Freya still wasn't scared of the situation on ground. She was only thinking about her brother and how he would react and cope with life if she never goes back to him. Freya's heart broke at the thought of that. That man—the handsome devil in human form who had tortured her with just his touch, had said her death would be more pleasurable than that of the others if she was what he saw in her eyes. Which brought her to the question: WHAT WAS IT THAT HE SAW IN HER EYES? Freya soon realised that she was worrying about the wrong thing. Her survival instincts were screaming and warning her to get out of wherever she was before it became too late. But how? Her gaze travelled to the door, and she remembered that he hadn't seemed to lock it. Without thinking, she jumped off the floor and scurried over to the iron bar door. Freya's impatient yet nervous hands stretched to the other side and she found that it was indeed unlocked. Her heart jumped in relief and she felt some of the weight on her chest gone as she opened the door and stepped out of the room. She gently closed the door behind her and stared at her surroundings. She was in a dark and long hall-way which was dimly illuminated by fire bulbs from the start to the end. The wall in front of her was made of strong-looking brown bricks, and she only discovered that she was in a mediaeval building when she saw the ancient marks on the ground. Freya's heartbeat increased its pace at that moment. The hall-way was quiet to the extent that she could hear her breathing, and it held some sort of forbidden aura in the air. Freya was starting to think getting out of the room was a bad idea. But what choice does she have? She looked left and right of the hall-way and decided to go right since her instinct found it friendlier. Her walk was fast yet careful and cautious, and she occasionally looked back to see if she was being followed. The hall-way went forever, and Freya was really starting to regret going out. At that moment, she realised that she had left the room not more than seven minutes after he left. So how come the long hall-way was empty? Could he have reached the end in such a short time? Or maybe he went to the left? She crashed to the hard floor and rested her head to the wall behind her. Maybe he had indeed gone to the left. But why did she care so much about where he went? Wasn't she supposed to be happy that he wasn't around to stop her? And that was when realisation came crashing on her at once. He had simply closed the door and not shut it even when there was a key. Freya suddenly felt like a fool. She shut her eyes and cursed in frustration. He must have wanted her to get out. Did she really think that he forgot to lock the door? “No, he didn't.“ Freya flinched and her eyes flew open before she jumped off the ground. She started to run towards the direction she came from without bothering to look at the owner of the voice she heard, but she saw with dismay that a figure was standing not less than seven feets away from her. Freya turned to look behind her and saw there was nobody there. She gasped in shock as realisation dawned on her. The person who had spoken to her and who was supposed to be behind her was miraculously in front of her! “H-how did you…” she stammered, her expression bedridden in shock. “You could say I was bitten by a cheetah,” returned the feminine voice. And that was when Freya saw her face. She swallowed her saliva in nervousness as she looked at the lady in front of her. She was beautiful, Freya noticed. She was about the same height as Freya or a little taller and had long black hair which stopped some inches away from her chest. She was dressed in an all-black warrior-like attire, which complemented her fair skin and made her look like a goddess. Nora was beginning to wonder if it was just her imagination or everybody around here was beautiful. “The Lord's gonna love this,” said the fair goddess before she walked over to Nora and looked her straight in the eyes. Nora tried to divert her gaze—tried really hard—but it wasn't working. She felt like she was under a spell as the fair goddess searched her brown eyes with her golden ones like she could see through her. Finally, the fair goddess shifted her attention from Freya's eyes and she was able to move her head again. Freya panted like a person who has been running and asked angrily since she couldn't hold her patience any longer: “What the f*ck are you people? And why the hell am I here?“ The fair goddess shifted her attention back to Freya and snapped her fingers in her face. Suddenly, Freya saw herself kneeling in a large room with high-hanging chandeliers and magnificent lights. She gasped in shock and looked around her in disbelief. It turns out that she was in a room as big as half of a football field, and there were hundreds—maybe even thousands—of people staring at her. Her heart sank down to her bottom and she anxiously started to stand from where she knelt to find the fair goddess and ask what was happening. “Don't!“ Freya felt her whole body freeze in fear and she immediately looked up to see the owner of the voice. It was him of course—the man who promised her a pleasurable death. But there was something more: he looked uncomfortable and was dressed in a way that suggested marriage. And when Freya looked at herself, she saw that she was wearing a wedding gown.“We've gathered here once again for the wedding of our lovely Lord—” A single glance from the Lord sent the priest or whoever he was running to the back of the wooden table on the altar. “Er…” said the priest from his place of protection. “W-what I was trying to say is that—today is our L-lord's wedding day. And the bride may come up now.“ The 'Lord' then looked down at a very shocked and scared-looking Freya and outstretched his hands to her. Freya felt her heart beating faster than possible as she stared at his outstretched hand. The large room was filled with people looking at her with stern and pitiful expressions on their faces. She raised up her head and looked at his face, and noticed with scepticism that he didn't seem stressed or impatient in the least—like this was his daily routine. What was happening? Could she be dreaming? Was this some kind of joke someone she knew had plotted? But when Freya looked around for perhaps the third time, she realised that th
The wedding ceremony finally came to an end and it was time for the groom and bride to go to their home. Freya couldn't stop blushing at the back of the caravan that rode them. He was sitting with her at the back and looking out. Freya got the opportunity to study the corners of his face and his biceps, which poked out of the clothes he was wearing and made him look like a Greek god. Her cheeks went hot again as the memory of their kiss played in her mind and she brought up her fingers to touch her lips. “You seem very happy,” he spoke for the first time since the beginning of their journey. His voice brought her to the present, and realisation dawned on her that she still didn't know him or know why and how she was here—and they had just exchanged vows at their wedding. What has she been thinking about ever since? Did this man put a spell on her or what? “I—Why am I here?“ she asked first, since that was the only conversation starter she could think of. There was a momen
Freya almost couldn't remember the rest of the torture. But several minutes passed before she felt his touch off her body. He brought a towel and let it fall on her, starting to dry her before she flinched and nodded in the negative, her eyes closed from embarrassment. “I can dry myself… Draven,” she spoke, so embarrassed by the fact that he had seen and touched her body that she couldn't bear to look in his eyes. He didn't respond. After some seconds, Freya heard the bathroom door close shut. She immediately opened her eyes and stepped off the tub after drying herself. Then she looked at her appearance in the mirror. Nothing had changed —just that her cheeks were pink and she looked nervous and stressed. Freya stepped out of the bathroom to the chambers after wearing her nightgown, half-expecting to meet him there. But the room was empty. She felt a little sad about that. She walked to the mirror in the room with a comb in her hand, numb and wondering how her brother was far
Freya followed him outside of the castle with an anxious face and scared heart. He looked so normal when he told his father that going out was a good idea. Was he going to do something to her? It was really dark now, probably past 7P.M., and Freya didn't want to see the kingdom for the first time at night—maybe because she feared he'd… “Freya,” he called her, his expression blending with the darkness. He was already on one of the black royal horses. “My Lord,” Freya answered, still avoiding his gaze. “Get on.“ Freya looked around in confusion. They were at the back of the palace where up to twenty horses rested, and there were also some guards around. How come he climbed on one of the horses and asked her to get on herself? She'd read novels before. Wasn't he supposed to help her get up the horse? “I don't know how to,” she replied, sounding puzzled and frustrated. “Have you never rode a horse?“ What? Rode? His intention was for her to ride on another horse dif
“I don't know what is…” … “I feel very sorry for her…” … “until when will this continue…” These low voices were the first words Freya heard when she opened her eyes. Her neck ached slightly from pain, and for some seconds she closed her eyes again when she realised she was still alive. And back to the castle since she was lying on the royal bed in their chambers! “My Lady,” Edith's elated voice said and ran over to the bed, her expression furrowed in worry. “How are you feeling?“ Freya really wanted to pretend that she was still asleep and never wake up to face Draven again but knew they already knew she was awake. “Let her be, Edith,” Joan's annoyed voice sounded. “And get off the bed before Lord Draven comes in and see you there.“ At the mention of his name, Freya flinched and her eyes flew wide open. She abruptly jumped off the bed into a sitting position. “Good morning, my Lady,” the two maids said in unison, standing side-by-side with their heads bowed low
When Freya finally left the breakfast table after eating with Draven, she walked back to her maids with her face flushed. Edith was smiling as she got there, but Joan had the usual blank expression on her face. "My Lady," Edith said and bowed to her. Freya had her brows raised. “Why are you smiling?“ Edith looked at Joan as if to check if she'll try to stop her. Then spoke: “I saw the way you handled general Karen. I swear her face was all red and angry when she walked past us.“ Freya was taken aback by that. She wasn't sure she wanted a possible enemy or rival in a battle which she was already certain she was going to lose. Freya shook her head at last and frowned. “I don't care how she feels. Just take me back to the chambers.“ The maids obeyed and silently followed Freya back to the chambers. Freya thought of her progress as they walked. Draven had seemed particularly tamed while they were having breakfast. He hadn't said a word after saying “We'll see about that” to
After the maids helped bathe Freya and helped her with changing her clothes, she sat on a chair facing the mirror about to comb her hair. She could see Joan and Edith's reflection behind her as she gently brushed her hair into the right places. They had offered to help her earlier but she refused. Freya had a lot on her mind. She was thinking about her situation—if she should still try to flee or not—if she should tell Draven to his face that she had feelings for him despite his ever-changing personality—if she should say how she felt about everything and push him to tell her about himself and why he said all those things to her. Did she really make a mistake coming out of that room as he had said? Freya stopped combing her hair and caught Joan's gaze at her through the mirror. She had been shocked minutes ago when she had revealed the identity of Lord Ethan. Until now, she couldn't believe that he was Draven's step-brother—”elder” step-brother for that matter. If that
FREYA When I woke up, I first perceived the strong smell of herbal juices in the air. The room was eerily quiet, and as I attempted to rise, a wave of pain shot through my body. I collapsed back unto the bed, only to force myself up again upon realising I wasn't in our chambers. Memories flooded back: the castle tour, the discovery of Lord Ethan's chambers and my banter and fight with Karen. Did I really go unconscious? My eyes travelled around the room and I discovered I was in some sort of hospital bed. There were some trays which held some liquid in small glasses at the far left side of the bed, and at the right side there was an array of fruits. The room was sparse otherwise. I started to get up again, ignoring the sharp pain in my arm. I paused for a moment and looked at the areas where I felt pain, and discovered it was completely healed and only had some tiny scars. Confusion swelled within me. I'm pretty sure my wounds are not supposed to have healed so quickly by now