Chapter 28

I fling myself onto the bed, burying my face in the satin covers. There is one thing I am certain of. I will not marry Cole.
For hours I stare at the gray ceiling while the storm batters against the windows.
Within the last few months, I have been hunted, attacked and kidnapped. Not to mention having my wrist slit and left to bleed. Chris never did explain what that was about. Just another question to add to the ever-growing list; nothing makes sense anymore. My whole life has become a series of questions waiting for an answer.
The gloom of the castle seeps into me like damp into bare timber. It seeps into every pore. Even the birds don’t sing. Nothing here is truly living, but an empty vessel devoid of life and emotion.
My fingers shake, and I bite down on my lower lip, blinking hard. Crying will not change anything. I must be strong. I see the calculation in every one of the king’s moves. He is a professional chess player, and I guess I am about to learn how to play. His stature invokes fear in so many. He uses his position and title to his advantage. I understand him now. The fear he once held over me is ebbing, reducing little by little. I won't back down; I won't run or turn tail. I will fight.
Huh, who am I kidding? There is nothing I can do. I cannot fight the King of Darkness. Even if I could, there is the little matter of the army and the demon dogs with yellow eyes and spiky things on their backs.
Escape is my only way out. But, how? The castle is surrounded by volcanoes and a large wall of fire. Even if I do manage to get out of the castle, how will I get past the wall of fire?
A plan starts to form in my mind. Happy and hopeful that this could work, I fall into a restful sleep.
I awake to the same nightmare. The bland walls of the castle and the dark sky, it is hard to tell between day and night here. The constant gloom and cold taint my soul, eating away my hope.
Sighing, I get off the bed. The red dress from the night before flashes in the wall length mirror, the seed of depression and hopelessness has settled over me more than I realized. At one time I would never have slept in my clothes. But I am not the same girl anymore. Things have changed. I have changed.
Throwing the bathroom door open I decide on a hot shower, wake myself up and try pull myself together. The only warmth penetrating these walls. The rest of the building is colder than the Atlantic in mid-winter, at least, that is how it feels at times.
The shower does little to cheer me. Opening the wardrobe I slip on a black mini dress. The dress is tight and fits like a second skin. Next, I apply dark, smoky-gray eye shadow to my eyes, and take extra care with the eyeliner and mascara, putting thick layers on.
I cover my face lightly with foundation, dab blusher onto my cheeks and put a thick layer of red lipstick on. My hair I clip up, leaving loose curls to trail down my back and over my shoulders.
I slip on a pair of black high-heeled shoes and walk over to the mirror with, surprisingly to me, graceful steps. Glancing at myself, I am amazed at the transformation. Never usually being one for makeup I am pleased with the artwork I have created.
My eyes are bigger and wider. My lips are full and plump. The blusher gives me a healthy glow. The dress compliments my figure, making my boobs stand out and my bum is firmer and wider.
I smile to myself. Yes, this could just work. Now for the hard part.
Turning away from the mirror, I see Lillian standing in the doorway to my prison. She holds a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise. Until now, she has always had to coax me to dress.
"Good morning," I sing, way too cheerfully, and inwardly I groan. If this plan is going to work, I should calm it down a notch.
Lillian gathers her thoughts and says, as formally as normal, "I see you are ready. That is good. The king requests your presence for breakfast."
"Wow, dinner last night and breakfast this morning, I’m beginning to think he likes me." I wink.
He’s never requested my presence for breakfast before. Usually, Lillian brings dried toast and water to my room. The toast I usually throw out the window. The yellow-eyed dogs fight and growl over the two slices, their whines ear-splitting when they lose the battle.
Her face drops and her eyes darken. "This is not a good thing, trust me."
"Why not? It can’t be that bad having him on your side?"
"Believe me, the king does not take anyone's side. We are all just puppets in his twisted game. He will bend and break us at his will."
Her words send my mind spinning, I try to reply, try to think of something, but doubt clouds my thoughts and once more, terror seizes my body.
"It will do you good to keep your distance. Now, come." She turns around and heads out of the door. Lillian rarely speaks. In fact, this was the most she had ever said to me. Her words plant a seed of doubt, and a sinking feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach.

I put on a fake smile and enter the dining room.
Pulling courage from deep within me, I plaster a fake smile on my face as I enter the dinning room. I can almost see my freedom. The little voice inside my head keeps telling me I will never make it. I ignore the voice, what other choice do I have. I must try and get out of this place.
The chance I am willing to make may break me, but the strength I hold will help me through. This is one battle I am not willing to lose.