Chapter Four

By the time I opened my eyes, there was a slight ache on my side and I found myself on the floor of a room I didn’t recognize. My memories came washing over me in seconds and I sat up immediately, pushing myself towards the wall. I just couldn’t fathom the fact that Jonathan had actually jumped after me and saved me.

I had thought I was going to die; I did want to die. I had thrown all my hopes and dreams to the wind the moment I realized the amount of torture that was awaiting me if I tried to survive in the Berg Kingdom; it was even impossible to try to survive. I had already imagined the humiliation and the suffering awaiting me and besides, I was yet to forgive myself for allowing my father to be killed right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything. The only way to redeem myself was to die and who would have thought that Jonathan wasn’t having it? His words before I passed out rang in my ears and I shivered unconsciously.

 “Even if you want to die that badly, you cannot die without my permission.”

The fact that my clothes had been changed made me hug myself tighter. I didn’t dare imagine who had changed my clothes and I moved closer to the wall. The room I was in was very different from the first room that I had been placed in. It was less stuffy and a tiny bit more comfortable. I stared at my bare feet that already had blisters on them and they looked ugly and unsightly.

I could smell the unsavoury scent emitting from my body; it was a sharp contrast to my favorite citrus scent and I tried combing my hair with my fingers but the tangles refused to loosen no matter how hard I tried. I laughed hard as tears rolled down my cheeks. I looked like everything except a princess.

I heard footsteps and voices and I instantly wiped my tears, schooling my expression while trying to princess for whoever was coming. The door opened and Jonathan walked; his left hand banged and I winced slowly.

I still remembered the strong stench of blood and how blood poured out of his arm when he tried to save me. I didn’t know how to feel—remorseful? Apologetic? Or nonchalant. I chose the latter; nobody asked him to save me and besides for someone who killed my father right in front of him, this was too easy for him.

"Oh, Hello Princess,” he greeted me while squatting and I swallowed. Being called a princess in the state that I was was derisive and humiliating. I was sure he knew it; that was why he was calling a princess.

“Don’t call me a princess,” I whispered quietly. My throat was hoarse and dry and I could almost beg for a cup of water. Jonathan burst into laughter at my request.

“You are a princess, aren’t you?” He asked and I swallowed again, hoping that my saliva would lessen the dryness of my throat.

“Let me tell you something, Princess. I think I didn’t make that very clear to you earlier." He started and I was quick to notice how fast his tone had changed. My spine straightened unconsciously as he continued speaking.

“You are a slave. A fucking slave. That’s what you are. My slave, my captive, and I am your master. You do not go places where I have not given you permission to go. You do not go places where I have said you couldn't. You don’t make decisions without my consent. In other words, you cannot do anything without me; in fact, you still breathe because I permitted you to. Make no mistakes, Princess,” he paused, chuckling.

His laughter made my stomach chun uncomfortably; if I had eaten anything, maybe that was the moment I would have thrown up but there was nothing at all.

“If you make the same mistake you made yesterday, I won’t forgive you that easily,” he added and a small smile spread across his lips. His words made my stomach worse.

“Can you pick a side?” I asked, “You call me a slave this second and the next you are calling me a princess.” I continued shaking my head. “You don’t scare me,” I said, firmly shaking my head. “I didn’t ask you to save me; you chose to do so. I own myself and I will do as I deem fit,” I concluded and then he burst into laughter, a kind of laughter that made me wish I hadn’t spoken at all. A lone tear slid out of his left eye as he continued laughing.

“Oh Princess, you are so funny,” he replied, his face going hard twice as fast as he burst into laughter. “If you want to try me, you can go ahead and try me but I'll just leave you with this. Every single time you go against me, every single time you make a decision without my consent, every single time you try to kill yourself or jump over a cliff, I’ll be there and I’ll make sure I’ll save you but in return, a member of your family dies. I’ll start with your favourite Uncle, to your sister, to your mother till there's no one left to continue your generation,” he added and I found myself shaking uncontrollably.

“You bastard!” I shrieked, “You deserve to die and your body be fed to vultures!” I screamed again and he nodded.

“Honestly, I don't mind,” he replied, and I froze.

"So, my dear princess, I see you are very protective of your family, so be a good girl, will you?” He asked and I found myself nodding my head.

The image of him slaughtering my father was still fresh in my mind; it was forever going to be fresh. I was never going to forget it. I was never going to forget the fact that I caused his death. There was no way I was going to be able to handle another sight like that. There was no way I was going to allow myself to be responsible for the death and eradication of my family. There was no way I was going to let that happen.

My mouth moved on its mouth as I replied, “Ye.. Yes… Yes. I promise you,” I stuttered, looking up to meet his eyes. “I promise you never to do anything without your permission,” I added and Jonathan chuckled.

“Thank you, Princess,” he said with glee and I hugged my legs tighter. He was a monster and here I was, alleging my life to him, not that I had a choice.

“Tell her to come in,” he said loudly and I raised my head to see a middle-aged woman walk into the room. She bowed lightly at him and he nodded.

“She’s now in your care,” he replied and I turned to the woman, who was surprisingly dressed well but had no jewelry on. The blank look on her face told me that she wasn’t very pleased with me.

“Bring them in." She also instructed and two guards walked in, carrying boxes I didn’t recognize but when they dropped them, I quickly recognized the other as a small burning furnace.

“That’s a furnace,” I whispered as I tried to get on my feet. “What do you want to do to me?” I asked, shivering in fear but the woman merely grabbed me and placed a metal cuff on my hand, holding me firmly in place. I pulled and struggled but she didn’t care. She didn’t look anything like her strength.

“Pour it in,” she instructed the guard and it was then that I realized that the cuffs had holes in them. I watched as the guard grabbed the burning furnace and poured molten ore into the cuff. The fear burnt my hand and I started screaming. Tears ran down my cheeks but the woman, as if unbothered the heat or my screams, moved a muscle

"Pleaseee,” I cried.

“You can’t even handle something as painless as this. You must be quite fragile, Princess." Jonathan taunted and as much as the pain was driving me crazy, I found myself shutting up as his taunt. Tears flowed down my cheeks as the woman finally let me go and uncuffed the metal bracelet. A new hot bracelet had been formed firmly around my hand.

“That was all to get you to stop screaming like a mad woman?” Jonathan asked again and shaken his head. “You are so boring, Princess; way too boring,” he added, clicking his tongue, and I held my left hand, trying to muffle the sobs in my throat.

“You can cry if you want to, Princess; I know it hurts." He added cheekily and I turned to glare at him.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” he said in a harsh tone and I instinctively lowered my head. His threats to massacre my family were still ringing in my ears.

“That shows that you are a slave of the Berg Kingdom; anywhere you get to, they are going to know who you are and there’s only one way to get it off,” he continued and I turned to him watching as a smile plastered itself on his lips.

“You cut off your hand.”