From the moment I saw her, I never believed her to be a spoilt princess.
Was I wrong? Is that why she fled like a thief in the night?
My hand curls into a fist, wanting to strike something, feeling restless that she is not within close proximity.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
The sun was yet to be at its highest peak, but we finally arrived in my gilded cage. I expected Deyanira to be waiting for us at the gates, make a show of this. She is not; the palace is just how it was the day before.
Of course, the Queen Mother would not be waiting—she will make me wait.
Once we pass the gates, Orym lowers himself to the ground, and I slide off before he shifts back into his human form. Guards are already beside me, hands on my wrists after passing Orym a pair of breeches. They crowd my space, wary that I might escape their grasp.
