51

Word Count: 2201

~Kiva

I walk through the manor doors, shoulders back, chin tilted up.

The guards stare in wonder and confusion, making to say something, but I wave them off. I don't want a fuss.

"Get my father," I tell one of them.

The nod, rushing off toward his office.

It's early evening and I'm finally returning home. I spent my entire childhood in this home, and now it just feels vast and empty, void of everything that once pleased me.

Ark and I spent the whole day coming up with a plan for tonight. I've come here to find evidence of what Ark has alleged.

Not even a minute later my father is rushing down the stairs toward me.

Only a day ago I would have rejoiced at seeing my father. I may have felt overcome with emotion, grateful to have been freed from the rebels.

Now, I feel nothing but repulsion.

"Father," I say, trying to sound relieved, although it comes out rushed and a little rehearsed.

"Kiva...oh my baby, you're home." He ushers me into a hug, holding me close. I let him, fighting the urge to make up an excuse to pull away.

"I escaped," I tell him.

He looks over me, expecting injury, or maybe some evidence of being detained. Thankfully the rebels aren't barbaric, choosing to lock me in a room rather than tie me down with rope.

"From who? Where?"

"The rebellion," I say. I'm not sure how else to explain it without giving away key information that could lead him there. "Ark...did Caspian not tell you?"

"That fool ran off. He hasn't been heard from in days," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Oh." I rub the back of my neck. It seems like he took Ark's advice.

Father rubs a hand down my arm, giving me a sad look. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but he has asked for an annulment of your marriage."

I raise my brows. Caspian folded to Ark's influence immediately, which isn't a surprise. I don't think he ever actually wanted to be married to me, he just suffered from the same obligations I did.

Not anymore though. That's not going to be my life.

"I can't control his actions, I suppose," I simply muse, quietly concealing my relief at not being connected to that man any longer.

"He took all the money I gave him for marrying you too. Coward," father mutters, shaking his head.

I nearly laugh. He claimed under Ark's intimidation that he had nothing to do with my father's business, but him taking the money with him shows how little he cares about the victims.

"Of course he did."

"But you, are you unharmed?" He looks genuinely relieved, which isn't a surprise.

I know my father loves me. I presume it's why he left me out of the business, because he knew I would turn against him.

"I'm fine. No one touched me," I assure him.

My mind unintentionally falls back to the night Ark and I spent together. I don't think it would help my story if anyone came to learn about that.

"And they let you go?" He frowns.

"No, I escaped," I say quickly.

Father looks at me for a moment, before he smiles. Maybe it's the training he ordered I partake in with Ark that convinced him. Previously he would never believe I had what it takes to escape from captivity.

"My brave girl," he exclaims. "Your mother would be proud."

My stomach aches at the thought of my mother. I know she would have had nothing to do with my father's sins, and would have condemned him.

He truly has lost himself since her death.

"I really miss her," I breathe, fighting back the emotions that threaten to surface. I need to concentrate on what must be done tonight.

"Me too kid. Why don't we get you to the healer," he encourages, gesturing toward the stairs.

I shake my head, knowing that if I walk into the infirmary, I'm going to be stuck there for hours while father's favourite nurse takes her time examining every inch of me to his satisfaction.

"I'm fine, seriously. I got out, no injuries. I'm all good," I assure him.

"Do you need something to eat? Some rest?" He doesn't seem to know what the best course of action is.

Unsurprisingly, he hasn't apologised. He knows what the rebellion wants. He knows that he brought Ark into this place, and the guard is the reason I was captured.

"Some rest will be great."

"Good, because tomorrow I want to hear everything you know about that rebellion." He smiles, thinking he's finally going to be a step ahead of them.

Too bad he isn't going to learn anything new about them.

"They kept me in a dark room, I didn't learn anything-"

"Tell me tomorrow sweetheart. Okay? Then we can work on finding you another titled man who won't run away from their marriage with you," he tells me, as if the thought of that would please me.

He knows how I feel about a political marriage, but I'm not here to fight him on it.

"I'm not ruined?" I ask, feigning a hopeful smile.

"This is Caspian's fault. Not yours. The people will see that," he affirms.

"I get the feeling that everything is going to change soon."

I haven't yet confronted the thought about what my life is going to look like when this all blows open. I get a feeling that neighbouring Kingdom's will not approve of this, and will demand my father step down from his position as King.

Which will leave me without title...I'll be free, normal.

"Oh it will. I will crush this rebellion mercilessly and all this chaos will subside," he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the idea of such a triumph.

"I hope so," I mumble, averting my eyes.

He pats my shoulder. "Don't look so down. Those monsters that took you will pay."

I nod numbly. "Yeah. Alright, goodnight."

I make my way upstairs as quickly as I can make look natural. Some of the tension dissolves from my shoulders as I take in my old room. Despite hating my father and the money that built this place, I still love and will miss this room.

Letting out a long breath, I sweep my hair back off my face.

I let about an hour pass before I leave the room again. It's getting late, and father will have retired to his room for sleep by now.

There's only one place I can think of that may have information on what father is doing. Ark has scoped out most of the house while he worked here, and claimed he didn't find anything.

But he doesn't know this place like I do.

Trotting down the stairs, I make my way into the servants wing of the home. It's dead silent since father's paranoia led to him restricting the amount of staff working here.

I look down at the hairpin between my fingers, knowing I'm about to cross a line I haven't dared to before.

I find the door, pausing in front of it.

Many years ago my father locked this room for good. He claims he doesn't go in here, but I have suspicions that he uses this as a place to store important documents as everyone is morally obligated to never step foot within it.

Including me, even though it's my mother's belongings that are in there.

It doesn't take much to pick the lock with my hair pin. Summoning a deep breath, I slip inside, bearing myself for the sight of all of my mother's personal things that father couldn't bear to give up.

I've seen all this stuff before, but a lump gathers in my throat as I look around.

Old, dusty sheets over the bigger items, but my eyes brush along what was her vanity, some of her jewellery and personal effects sitting there, completely untouched.

Ignoring the burn growing behind my eyes, I concentrate on the rest of the small room.

Sure enough, there are plenty of father's own items here. I concentrate on his old mahogany desk, throwing the drawers open, sifting through the myriad of ageing paperwork.

Most of it is generic, although some are financial statements that I could comb through and surely find some evidence of unaccounted for money.

I don't have time for that tonight, though, so I settle for stuffing a few into my pockets.

With nothing more to be found at the desk, I concentrate on a few sagging cardboard boxes that are messily taped shut.

Tearing the tape back, I peer into them.

Clothes. A lot of them, seeming to mostly be feminine in appearance.

I pull out a dress, running the cotton material through my fingertips. My stomach twists into an uncomfortable knot.

I don't recgonise any of these.

It would put me at ease if these were clothing from my childhood that he had saved, but I have never seen anything like this before in my life. To my horror, I even find a few servant outfits from many years ago.

Kicking it away, I steady myself. This could be nothing...

My legs tremble beneath me as I stand, wiping my hands down my side as if it could rid me of the sin of what I may be uncovering.

The boxes next to it are also filled with haphazardly packed clothing. All mostly female.

I opt next for a smaller plastic container, bracing myself before I pull back the lid.

Jewellery. It's packed full of it, of necklaces, rings and bracelets. Again, none of it I have ever seen again.

I run my fingers through it, listening to it rattle against the plastic. Do any of these belong to Ark's sister? To the woman whose child went missing after coming to work here?"

I press the lid back down, carefully placing it back exactly where it was.

My gaze slowly shifts to a tall looking object leant up against the wall, covered in a grimy sheet. My heart feels heavy just looking at it, as if it omits a terrible aura that haunts me.

With slow, purposeful steps, I approach it, reaching out.

The sheet is stiff beneath my fingers as I pull it back, letting it drop to the floor. Underneath is a large portrait that is nearly as tall as me, it's front facing the wall.

I can already feel the sensation of tears slipping down my cheeks as I wrap my hand around the gilded frame, pulling back to see the front.

I gasp at the sight of it, instinctively stepping back.

The portrait falls back, clattering down onto the concrete floor. My hands fall to my face, covering my mouth as I let out a horrified sob, staring back at the expert depiction of my father's painted eyes, at how they stare back at me.

Nausea violently claims me as the full extent of the painting hits me.

Forcing it down, I quickly pull the painting back up, ignoring my tears, at the disturbed dust that now clings to my cheeks. The sheet quickly follows, and then I'm out the door, slamming it behind me.

"Are you alright, miss?"

I turn, seeing a servant girl sticking her head out her room. She rubs her eyes groggily, half-aware of my emotional state.

"I'm...I'm fine. Go back to bed," I tell her shakily.

Her questioning follows me down the hall, but I ignore it, rushing upstairs to my room.

The moment I'm behind the door, I stumble into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I throw up.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I see the image of the painting swimming in my head, taunting me with its graphic, horrifying nature.

It was my father, sitting upon the throne I know so well. I often would venture into the throne room as a child, wishing to see what I would one day be sitting on as Queen.

In the painting, father sat in his usual position on the throne, his back straight, crown glittering golden atop his head.

Kneeling on the floor beside him were two girls. One's head leant against his left leg, her blood gushing down from her neck, drenching her whole naked body in it. The other girl's head was bowed, her tear streaked face and look of terror so painfully apparent. Her bare skin was covered in dark bruises and lashes.

Even though it is a painting, its detail is horrendous. This didn't emerge from someone's imagination...

This was a moment captured in time.

Once I'm finally done retching into the toilet, I stand warily, washing my mouth out before numbly sitting upon the edge of my bed.

How am I going to tell Ark?

I look toward the window which is partially open, a snow laced breeze drifting in, soothing my burning skin.

He will be here any moment. Now I wait.

💜••💜

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! and as always it is available 10 chapters ahead on Radish!

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~Midika 💜🐼