Initially, if it were in her power, Dalia would not have woken up. For waking up only brought her back to reality. She had hoped that upon waking, she would find herself amidst her two older sisters, most often with Keturah, snuggling next to her in bed just to tease her. Or if she was feeling scared. However, all she woke up to was a bed that wasn't hers.
...
Numerous maidens walked in and out of the room. There were so many that she couldn't even begin to count. She did not have this many maidens attending to her back at home.
They were currently tending to her hair after they had finished with her dress. Yet, the maidens walked in with trays of beads and satins.
"Do I need to dress up for dinner?" Dalia whispered to the head maiden who was currently placing tiny beads and cornrows on her head. Back home, she didn't really need to dress up unless it was for a formal occasion.
"Yes," she said, smiling too brightly at her. All the maidens did the same, like she was some precious angel who had just fallen from the sky. The fear was still in her eyes, but she managed to smile at them. How did they even survive in this palace with a monster?
She would have asked more about him, but his cold voice earlier made her loathe him even more.
What about the rumors? About the things he had done, about the many people he had killed? Did they not hear that? Did they not still fear him?
How could they still be working for him except... She gasped. Perhaps they were slaves who were forcibly sold to him. She immediately began feeling pity for them. Of course, an ordinary person would likely not want to work for a monster. Only those who were forced would likely be here.
The head maiden finished with her hair, then smiled at her through the mirror, "you look lovely," she praised.
Her gaze remained fixed on the mirror as her hair was tightly raised up, emphasizing her small petite face that appeared a bit skinnier.
"Thank you," she whispered. Her voice was low as she barely had any strength left in her. She had ridden on an empty stomach to this place, and she doubted she could eat even if food was brought in front of her.
"Dinner, my queen," the head maiden curtsied.
Dinner? The king's words about not joining her came back to her. Perhaps this was for the best. If the king would not be joining her, then maybe she could manage to eat.
They passed through a single corridor before reaching a wide-opened door. Two guards dressed in shiny armor stood on both ends, their faces stoic and eyes devoid of emotions.
They bowed as she walked past. She reciprocated and then gazed at them. These guards were different from the one who had welcomed her, or perhaps there were different ranks for guards.
The room left her gasping. She had never seen anything like it before. The dining hall was so big and grand.
Since it was nighttime, all the windows had been shut. The soft and colorful lamp like the one she had seen earlier at the entrance corridor adorned almost all corners of the wall, with a bigger one at the top illuminating the dining table. It felt magical, almost surreal.
She walked towards the long table that could sit about twenty persons. At one end of the table was a majestic chair, undoubtedly meant for the king himself. On the right side was where she was meant to sit, as there were numerous plates of food already set there.
"The king is not coming," she whispered to herself as she took the seat next to the grand throne. However, her gaze fell on the empty chair meant for him, and she gulped. He wasn't here, but why did it feel like he was?
"Are you certain you can finish that dish?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. The hairs on her skin stood on end. How was he here? He had clearly stated he would not join for dinner, so why?
He occupied the seat she had predicted to be his, his mouth visible from behind the mask seemed to form a curve. Was he smiling?
"It is only right to join you, don't you think?" His voice sounded calmer than when he had spoken earlier.
Her legs began to tremble, but she forced them together to hide her growing unease. Instead of focusing on the food, her gaze remained fixed on his masked face.
"Oh, how could I have forgotten that the wife I was given was mute," he said boredly, shaking his head.
"I am not mute," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. It took all the courage she had to speak up.
Dalia observed as that curve appeared on his mouth again, and his eyes seemed to change for a fleeting moment.
Why was she married to him if she couldn't even see his face? The rumors were most definitely true; he was an ugly monster behind that mask. But it wasn't his appearance that worried her; it was what he had done to those innocent lives, how he wielded power to take lives.
"Ah, you can speak," he remarked as he raised his hand and patted her head.
Her curly hair was so tightly coiled that she couldn't have felt the pat physically, but she sensed it. A slight shiver ran down her spine, even though there was no direct contact.
Dalia averted her gaze from him, focusing on the food before her. She was tired, hungry, and exhausted. All she wanted was to eat and rest, but she could hardly do that. She couldn't trust his food, nor could she sleep peacefully in his home.
He sighed and leaned back, observing her. "You are now my wife, do you not remember that?"
She neither nodded nor looked at his face. She was not his wife. No, she was not his wife.
"You do know you are going to stay here for a very, very long time," he spoke slowly, as if warning her to take it seriously.
She gazed at him, tears welling up in her eyes, but she summoned all her inner strength to hold them back. She refused to dwell on the thought; instead, she was still plotting her escape from this place.
"Stop wallowing and worry less," he said, sounding irritated. What was wrong with him? Why was he easily upset when he is the most powerful king? When he had everything he wanted in his hands. "Your worrying will not save you; you are my wife now."
She clenched her trembling hands together tightly. From the intense look he was giving her, it seemed there was no escaping this man, and his eyes conveyed that message clearly.
"You know what I hate the most," he continued, sounding upset. "I hate judgmental people." She swallowed hard, keeping her clasped hands tightly together. "Like you."
"Like me?" She blurted out, quickly covering her mouth as soon as the words escaped. Fear widened her eyes as she realized her mistake - she had raised her voice and talked back to him.
He simply nodded, "You're doing it now."
Avoiding his gaze, she shifted her eyes to the array of food laid out on the table. What did he mean by 'judgy'? In what way was she judging him? Was it not the truth? If not, why was he shielding his face? Why did everyone seem so afraid of him?
"I cannot blame you," he shrugged as he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "I will be leaving the kingdom tomorrow; don't even think about escaping."
How did he know?
"Do not worry about our marriage consummation. Given how frightened you are, I will allow you to settle in first." And with that, he walked away in a regal manner.
Dalia gasped, feeling her hands beginning to shake once more.
She was trapped for good!