Chapter 2 - Polka dots are such a turn off

I clutched the tiny silver heart-shaped locket in my left hand, where it felt closest to my heart 💜. It hung delicately around my neck as I stared at the unfamiliar white ceiling—one I would likely have to get accustomed to for the foreseeable future.

The phrase "foreseeable future" echoed ominously as I spoke it aloud 🔊. I feared I might not last long or that my marriage wouldn't either. I hoped for the latter but knew the consequences if it didn't endure.

-TICK TOCK-

They claimed it was the best way to stop the plague, which would likely devastate both the kingdom and its people faster than they could destroy each other. As if having two people wed could halt a plague. It's a plague!

"Stupid prophecies!"

I rolled over on my bed to adjust myself. The mattress was far too comfortable for my liking, but I had no complaints. My laptop lay open beside me with a half-typed assignment: an essay on "Universal Health Coverage Through Primary Healthcare." I still needed 456 more words to meet the minimum requirement of 1,500 because apparently, no one could write more than 1,500 words.

-TICK TOCK-

I finally released my grip on the pendant and let the silver heart drop in sync with the ticking of the grandfather clock. I shut my eyes forcefully as the clock chimed loudly, signaling the end of another hour. It was now four in the morning—just great! Not!

"Did I really marry a jerk?" I already knew the answer deep down. First, he hadn't shown up.

The piece of paper from that time lay neatly folded on my nightstand next to my phone. I grabbed both and sat on the bed 🛏️. Second, he left me a sweet note.

"You don't play with food, huh?" I said to myself sarcastically.

How dare he?! 😠😤

-CRASH-

I jumped at the sound. It definitely came from somewhere in the mansion near my room.

They have guards; you'll be fine, I reassured myself. But that thought didn't sit well with me.

I moved toward my suitcase in the corner of my new room and opened it. There they were: a sword 🗡️ and a variety of knives for personal safety that my father had sent along with me. I had never used a sword in my life, but I had always been proficient with knives—though I didn't know how. Grabbing a knife, I secured it around my thigh. The adrenaline rush made it hard to breathe; scientifically, it was supposed to aid breathing.

I opened my room door and kept the sword at the ready as I quietly navigated through the dark corridor. Goodness, the interior here was dreadful. It was too dimly lit, but I could make out hints of red, black, and gold. I was grateful that I had requested a room decorated in white immediately after the wedding.

-CRASH-

Another crash echoed from what I recognized as the hall where I had just married a few hours ago. The door stood partially ajar. Covering my nose with my palm as I approached—roses and dust were overwhelming.

I slowly walked in, balancing the heavy sword with one hand while tightening my fingers over my nose with the other.

Inside, chaos reigned. Everything that could be broken was shattered: glass windows lay in fragments, chandeliers hung askew, and drapes were torn down. The moonlight illuminated the space without obstruction now that the drapes were gone. Rose petals were scattered everywhere on the ground; some roses remained untouched, but I felt no remorse seeing the crushed ones—I despised roses.

There was no one in sight within the hall—well, aside from any potential hiding spots among its vastness.

"What do we have here?" A monotone voice came from behind me. I gulped and turned around dramatically.

A tall figure leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He wore a brown cloak that draped over his shoulders and formed a hood obscuring most of his face. Despite the darkness, I could make out his smirk 😏. How he got there or from where didn't matter; he stood there as if he owned the world.

"Why did you—crash this place?"

The more logical question should have been "Who are you?" but something told me he wouldn't answer anyway.

He began to walk towards me from his position by the doorframe. My feet felt glued to their spot as his calm footsteps echoed through the hall. He stopped just a few feet away from me; his eyes were now clearly visible under the moonlight—crimson red and captivating. No! Not captivating—not attractive!

"I hate roses 🌹," he said with a smirk as my eyes widened.

"You too?" It was more of a statement than a question; he shrugged in response.

He then turned towards one of the windows while I pinched my nose shut against the overwhelming scent of roses wafting through the air. The way he walked was slow yet purposeful; his strides seemed fast despite their pace—a contradiction that left me unfazed.

"Don't move!" I commanded as I stepped toward him, holding out my sword with both hands threateningly; he appeared unfazed by my gesture.

"You too? We can't have you bleeding now, can we?" His tone suggested he found amusement in our predicament.

He stopped by the window sill and maintained eye contact while stepping backward without hesitation. The moonlight revealed more details about him: sharp jawline and fair skin accentuating those deep crimson eyes. Before he could take another step back, I hurled my knife at his thigh in an attempt to immobilize him.

He caught it effortlessly.

"Bad aim," he remarked while patting his left side with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face. Frustrated, I dropped my heavy sword onto the ground; its weight was too much for me to handle now.

"Don't!" I shouted firmly as I watched his eyes dart toward the window for a brief moment.

Clearly unbothered by my threat, he rested one hand on the window frame. "See you around, polka dots," he waved casually as confusion washed over me.

Then he jumped through the window.

"Wait—this is the second floor!" I yelled after him. A small shard of glass pierced my foot as I rushed toward the window—ouch!

Peering out through those tall glass panes that nearly kissed the ceiling, there he stood on solid ground below, looking up at me with that insufferable smirk 😏.

"What a shame! Polka dots are such a turn-off," he called out mischievously.

Polka dots?

Shit! Shit!

I instinctively covered myself as it suddenly struck me that I had been wandering around in a completely sheer white nightdress the entire time. 

Looking down again, however, he had vanished from sight.

Yet still, I yelled into empty air hoping he'd hear me: "Pervert!!!"