Chapter 6
Elena could not sleep the entire night, she could not bring herself to lay down on such an ambiguous bed, nor was she willing to. The mystery behind the claw marks on the tower walls was more than enough to keep her eyes peeled as she found the wooden chair, displeasing.
From the broken window, rays of moonlight shone upon her golden locks of hair, scattered across the study table, where she rested her head.
Was she truly a witch like he said? The young princess thought, frustrated enough to want to pull out her hair from its roots.
In the books she had read, witches were displayed as, haggard looking old women, with wrinkly fingers and blood soaked eyes.
Elena irked at the mental image, fully convinced that if witches truly existed, it was near impossible for her to be one of them.
After all, there was no reason for her to trust the words of the cruel king, who had nothing but surly desires for her.
The Princess, then decided to put off escaping and instead wait for her parents to send an army to infiltrate the fortress and rescue her from this dreadful tower.
"Your ankle appears to be fine enough, so don't expect any regal treatment from me. Princess." The word princess was said with a scoff, in a haughty tone Elena did not approve of.
Though the black haired woman in a simple green dress, couldn't care less for her approval.
"You didn't even take a look at it." Elena said in her defense, just as dignified as the woman standing in front of her, holding a brown satchel.
The woman rolled her eyes at the princess and muttered some profanities underneath her breath. Something in a language Elena could not identify, just to spite her even more.
The butlers had called for this woman's services in relation to Elena's twisted ankle, and explained that she needed to be gentle with the princess. Which was why they transported Elena to the finest room in the castle for her treatment.
"Aren't you supposed to be the Blue Moon witch? If you are, then spare my time and heal yourself, it should not be too tasking for you to handle." Taunted the lady, as she turned to take her leave.
Under these circumstances, Elena would have immediately reported to Harriet that a servant had been rude to her, and weep into the woman's arms. But at Reeves, there was no person she could turn to, and rant out her frustrations.
The black haired woman slung the satchel over her neck, then made a one eighty, apparently she had something left to say.
"In the future, do not ever make the mistake of calling for me." She sternly said in a hateful manner, sending a sharp glare at a perplexed Elena.
"Who knows, I might end up feeding you poison instead of medicine." Her sinister smile caused Elena's stomach to tie a nervous knot as she watched the healer walk away.
There were woman like that back in Valencia, Elena was sure of that, but none of them ever dared to talk down to the Princess in front of her. This was the first time that the princess desperately wished she was back at her kingdom, and had the authority to smack some common sense into that crude woman's head.
Moments after she left, the butlers arrived, with the same maid from yesterday, who had in her arms, a change of clothing and a silver hairpin.
"It's time for your bath." The woman informed her, sounding neither polite or rude, she had a disinterested look in her eyes, a look a servant shouldn't have.
But, in this case, Elena was left unsure of her position in the fortress, the king called her a slave, the butlers refer to her as mistress, and the sarcastic healer calls her a princess purely out of spite.
She stood up straight, just as she had been taught to back at the palace, and took gentle strides towards them, walking despite the fact that her ankle got worse with each step.
'I have no one to trust but myself, no one here cares for me.' She resolved in her heart, as she descended the stairs, and headed to the wash room.
Meanwhile, at the throne room, a blue eyed, brown haired man, with his armour laid beside him was engaged in midday drinking, with his majesty, the king of Reeves. Whilst a young woman with braided brown hair and matching blue eyes stood beside the king, a sword hung firmly around her waist.
"Now that you have her in your hands, we should set up an emergency meeting with the other kings and go over our strategy. The Clover Coalition can start their march any day now." The man in armour explained, with a frank look on his face.
The King gulped down his cup of alcohol in one swift action, then slammed the cup hard against the fine crafted wooden table.
"She's as good as useless as she is, I could barely sense any spiritual energy from her." Said the king, as he casually turned himself another pouring.
"Her parents were cautious enough to feed her more than enough herbs to suppress the magic within her. Plus, her nitpicky attitude is giving me a headache." He groaned at the later part and wrinkled his brows the moment he remembered Elena's look of disapproval.
The woman and knight exchanged stupefied glances with one another, and watched intently, their king drink more alcohol.
Though it was useless, after all their king had never once gotten drunk, neither was he capable of being under the influence of alcohol.
"Is she not willing to cooperate? Even after being sold by her family?" The man furrowed his brows and asked, trying to get a read of the princess's personality.
Their king, King Alixandre, had forbade all males in the kingdom from standing anywhere remotely close to the captured princess, talk less of speaking to her.
"She doesn't realize that the marriage was a cover up, the girl's still living in a fantasy that those bloody pigs had arranged a wedding for her." Alixandre noted, then sipped more wine, his grip around the cup tightened.
"Crimsoncreed might have already gotten word that the Blue Moon witch is finally reunited with you, just as the prophecy states. They could barge into our kingdom to seize her."
The woman who stood beside the king made a face at that speculation, and unconsciously placed her hand on her sword, ready to pull it out.
"I sent Damaris to spy and report back their every decision, though I doubt they would dare to make a move without consulting the other kings first." Explained the king, his gaze hardened when he spoke of the other kings.
"What I fear most, is that the other kings won't be our only concern now that we've procured the princess." The knight spoke up, staring into his cup of alcohol.
The King had a stoic expression drawn on his face, he had picked up on the hint that his head of army was referring to.
"Yes, they can be very unruly when they want something, we might end up running into some real trouble if they get involved in this." Alixandre said, churning the cup of wine as he spoke.
"The other witches of the creed that is." He unequivocally mentioned, and pressed his cup of alcohol against his lips.