Damn Peasants

|Princess Zoey's Point Of View|

I play with the two rings in my hands. One is slightly bigger than the other, and I curiously put the smaller one on my right hand's middle finger. It fits perfectly. So I let it stay there. I realise my scent is slowly fading away. The ring is working well.

That is when I hear a little shuffling sound from the cell and take a sharp turn to look behind me. I spot that the peasant has moved a bit, just enough for the light to reach his face, and now I can finally see how he looks.

...I thought commoners were ugly, that they looked tired and plain. But the person in front of me is far from plain.

Without realising it, I am looking at his face, observing his features, wondering how a mere peasant like him has developed such features. There are wounds and cuts scattered everywhere on his face, but still– I flinch when he stirs in his sleep, and his eyes open slowly. But his attention is on the hay beneath him.

I make no sound but compose myself to look