The love of a King

Aurora walked through the dimly lit hallways of the castle. Torches flickered along the walls, casting shadows that danced across the cold stone floors. She had just informed Princess Ella that dinner was served, yet instead of returning to the kitchen, she found herself lingering, drawn toward the royal quarters.

Her eyes roamed over the paintings lining the corridor. One, in particular, held her attention—the portrait of the late king. He had been ruthless and cruel, as kings often were, yet his handsome features were undeniable. Those same features had been passed down to his children, she noted quietly. There were more paintings of people she couldn't recognize. Both makes and females. Maybe former kings and queens? She stared at each painting amazed at how delicately the paintings were created. The colour was mesmerizing. Her poor self could never get paints as expensive as these to use. The painter was definitely talented.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine as she imagined their presence watching from the walls.

A cold voice suddenly broke the silence. “What are you doing here?”

Aurora froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, she turned, her eyes widening as they fell upon the king himself. Instinctively, she dropped her gaze, praying that he would not notice her trembling.

“I asked, what are you doing here?” His tone had softened, but the intensity behind his gaze made her skin crawl. It was as if he could see every secret thought she tried to hide.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I simply got lost,” she spoke, voice barely audible. Her excuse was true enough—she had been foolishly distracted by the paintings—but fear tightened around her chest.

The king’s piercing cold eyes swept over her from head to toe. “When did you arrive?” he asked, his voice low but frightening or was it all in her head?

“Today, Your Majesty,” she whispered, keeping her eyes cast downward.

“You shouldn’t be here. No one is allowed in the king’s quarters at this hour.” His words, though soft, sent shivers down her spine. Aurora realized too late how little she knew of this place’s dangers.

He stepped closer, as if to intimidate her even more and she could feel the air shift around him. “A fragile being like you should be cautious,” he said, voice almost a warning. “Do not assume that the four walls of this castle make you safe—they do not.”

Aurora dared a quick glance at him, and for the briefest instant, she saw the sharp perfection of his features. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, heart hammering. His aura was beyond intimidating. She gave a small, curt bow.

“Yes, Your majesty,” she whispered, relief washing over her as he turned. But even as his footsteps faded, he paused, commanding one final order: “Leave this place now!”

Aurora needed no further urging. She hurried down the hallway, the torches’ flicker casting her elongated shadow against the walls. Behind her, the king watched as she scurried away like a scared mouse.