I lift my gaze to meet theirs. They look at each other, then back at me.
Arthur almost… almost smiles.
But Richard—there is nothing "almost" about him. He bursts into laughter.
He laughs so hard that one hand presses against his stomach while the other clutches the wall for support, as if he might collapse any second.
"Wha—what happened to—" Richard can't even finish his sentence before breaking into louder laughter.
Heat rushes to my face. Humiliation burns in my chest.
I know i looked messy , I try to push my hair away with my tied wrists, but that rough rope , refuses to let it settle.
Arthur strikes Richard's arm, trying to silence him.
Richard looks down, biting his lips, struggling to stop—but his shoulders , they were going up and down like vibrating, as he continues laughing quietly.
Right now, I don't know what frustrates me more—my situation, Richard's laughter ...or the loose strands of hair irritating my face.
I jerk my bound wrists violently against my hair this time .
"Aghh—" I hiss as my hair gets tangled in the rope, that make both of them to look at me again.
And that laughing machine Richard starts all over.
I try to pull my hands away, but my head follows with them.
"Agh!" Pain shoots through my scalp.
Richard, still laughing, covers his face with one hand and pushes Arthur forward with the other .
Arthur steps closer, looking at me—then quickly looks away, I guess to avoid laughing at me .
He kneels in front of me, lowering himself to my level.Both of us avoid eye contact.
Slowly, he reaches toward my head, trying to untangle my hair from the rope.
I turn my face away, but I can still feel the warmth of his breath.
"Aah…" the sound slips out of me when my hair pulls painfully as he tried to free them from rope.
Our eyes meet for a brief second—Then Richard's laughter erupts again behind us.
Arthur turns ."Go and prepare a bedding for her," he orders.
Richard leaves the room.
Arthur continues, more carefully now, loosening the strands without hurting me further.
As he works, my eyes fall to his chest. There—near his collarbone—is a scar.
That looks like a sword wound.
He frees my hair and notices my gaze. Instantly, he straightens and steps back.
Richard returns with a mattress in his arms. His eyes stay lowered as he spreads it near me.
But suddenly, he freezes—both hands pressed to the floor, shoulders shaking again as he struggles not to laugh.
Is this man serious? How can he—
My thoughts break when Arthur's cold voice cuts through the room.
"Why haven't you eaten?" he asks, staring at the untouched plate.
"I don't want your food," I answer, irritation slipping into my voice.
"Oh.. Let's see , for how many days, that princess attitude of yours lasts," he snaps.
" days , What do you mean..... days?" My voice trembles. "Please… let me go."
He ignores me. Turning to Richard, he says, "As we discussed—you sleep near the door. Make sure she doesn't run."
He finished and heads toward the door .
I swallow and shift awkwardly against the wall, and with hesitation I pleased "I… I can't sleep like This. I'm dirty… and the mattress will get dirty too."My fingers twist into the rope nervously."Can I… bathe?"
Arthur turns back, mocking.
"Of course, Your Highness. Anything else?"
His voice rises sharply. "Is this your palace? Are we your servants?"
"You'll sleep like that," he says coldly.
"And if the mattress gets dirty, you will wash it in the morning."
He leaves.
How long will I have to stay like this? I thought while resting my head against the wall and take a slow breath.
Richard places his bedding in front of the door, blocking the exit.
He hangs an oil lamp near me and lies down, pulling the blanket over his face.
I am trapped in a room with a stranger man .
Father must be worried. ahe would have sent his man to find me everywhere. I am sure they will find me soon. What would be happening in the palace right now?
I am lost in my thoughts when I hear Richard's muffled laughter beneath the blanket.
Why is he still laughing?
He can't even see me now, hidden under that blanket, yet the sound, keeps coming.
Then he turns, facing the door.
ugh… what a day!
And judging by my situation, the night is going to be just as long.
I glance at the old mattress beside me and pressed it a little .
It is hard—nothing like the soft beds, of the palace, ths comfort of the palace. I sighed.
Dirt clings to my skin. My clothes feel stiff. My mind refuses to be still.
With this filthy body, this rough mattress, and these wild thoughts racing through my head, I know sleep will not come.
His laughter sounds again.
Why isn't he asleep yet?
Should I say something to him? I thought a little , should I ? ..and he laughed again.
"JUST SLEEP ALREADY!" I shout across the room.
Instead of stopping, he laughs even louder.
I roll my eyes in frustration.
That Man !.... he is really out of his mind.
My thoughts shifted from him as i felt , the dirt on my face and arm itch against my skin.
I pull my knees up and search for a cleaner part of my skirt .
Then I wipe my face against it… and rub my arm the same way, trying to get rid of at least some of the filth.
It barely helps—but it is all, I can do.
Still, the itch does not leave. The dust clinging to my skin keeps me restless and uncomfortable.
My gaze falls on the plate nearby.
Wait… how am I even supposed to eat , with my hands tied like this? Even my fingers cannot move properly.
huh ! Princess Attitude?
How did he even expect me to grab the plate, or the food ? Did he expect me to lick food from the plate.... like a cat?
I should have thought this earlier . Princess Attitude ?
What did he got , the stubbornness, the audacity.
I heard Richard again, but thus time — its his snoring .
Why ..... just why . Am I not already suffering enough from the dirt and this itching —and now his snoring fills the room as well, loud and careless.
I cannot bear it anymore. Tears slide down my cheeks.
Why is this happening to me?
Why am I here, suffering like this, when I have done nothing wrong?
None of this, none of this would have happened if Sophie had just listened to me.
The chain of my thoughts keeo going and the night drags on endlessly. My thoughts race without mercy, one after another, refusing to let me rest.
I do not sleep even for a moment.
By the time the sky begins to pale with the coming dawn, my body finally grows weak with exhaustion. My eyes start to burn and feel heavy.
I pull my knees close to my chest and rest my head against them.
Slowly, unwillingly, my eyes close.
…
…
…
Time slips away without me knowing.
At some point, lost between darkness and light, my body surrenders to sleep for a short while.
"Wake up."The sharp voice jerks me awake.
Arthur , Standing right in front of me.
I yawn and rub my tired eyes, stretching my stiff arms while scanning the room. Richard is already gone somewhere.It looks like mid-morning now.
My eyes return to Arthur. He is staring at the untouched plate.
He looks at me and says,
"How long are you planning to starve… until you die?"
I lift my bound wrists and hold them up to him. "How do you expect me to eat like this? How am I supposed to hold the plate or pick up food, hmm?"
Realization flickers across his face.
For a moment, he looks stunned—caught off guard and speechless.
Just then, Richard returns. He carries a bowl filled with vegetables. He walks toward the clay stove , sets the bowl down, and than adds firewood to the stove .
Arthur glances at him and starts walking in his direction.
"Wait—" My voice trembles. "I… I want to clean myself. Can I , take a bath?"
Before I can say another word, Arthur grabs a knife and turns toward me.
My eyes widen and I start dragging myself backward.
"W–Wait… I just said that because… because…" My voice breaks, and the words tangle in my mouth.
"It's okay if I don't bathe for one day. Please… don't kill me for this."
They both look at each other again. And then Richard — that walking laughing machine — starts giggling.
I stared at him in confusion and disbelief.
Arthur steps forward and kneels down to my level, with a knife in his hand and beginning to cut the rope around my wrists.
Ugh… I've made a fool of myself again.
I glance at Arthur's face while he works. His sharp facial features makes him look , good . he is quite —
He suddenly lifts his eyes. I quickly look away, avoiding his gaze. He also , quickly lowers his gaze and continued doing his work.
My eyes meet Richard's instead. He is still giggling.
"What…?" I snap at him.
The sound of my voice makes Arthur look up at me. His sharp gaze, his black eyes ,sends a shiver through my body, making me miss a heartbeat.
Sunlight slips into the room and reflects off the blade in his hand, flashing into my eyes. I swallow hard in fear.
"I-I mean… like… if someone, you know… if someone kidnaps you and then walks toward you holding a… a big knife…" My voice trembles.
"That's scary. It's normal to think they might… kill you."
Arthur smiles faintly and lowers his gaze, finishing his work. Richard's giggling continues in the background.
I shoot Richard a look that makes him drop his eyes and focus on cutting the vegetables.
Arthur cuts the rope around my wrists first, then moves to my ankles.
"Get up and follow me," he orders in his commanding voice.
I push myself to my feet. My knees feel weak, almost numb after being bent all night.
As I take a step forward, my balance slips. I start to fall—but a strong grip, catches my arm.
Arthur steadies me and helps me stand upright again.
The moment I regain balance, he pulls his hand back sharply.
"Are your legs injured too?" he asks. His voice sounds calmer now.
"No… it's just… I was sitting all night, so my legs are numb. I just need a moment." I finish speaking and gently shake one leg, trying to bring back the feeling.
He waits silently. When I nod to show I'm fine, he turns and starts walking, and I follow him.
I follow him out of the room. Warm sunlight spills over my face, and fresh air fills my lungs. After the suffocating darkness inside, the outside feels strangely soothing.
I look around slowly. Beside the room I was kept in, there is another small hut—maybe Arthur's room. The walls are rough, made of wood and clay, and the roof looks old but strong.
All around us stands a dense forest. Tall trees rise like silent guards, their branches tangled together, blocking most of the sky. Sunlight slips through the leaves in thin golden lines, falling on the ground in broken patterns. Birds chirp somewhere far away, and the air smells of soil and wood.
It is beautiful… almost unreal.
But my heart tightens instead of relaxing.
This beauty is a cage.
No road. No houses. No sign of people. Just endless trees in every direction. I search for a path, for any opening—anything that could lead me out—but I see none.
I don't notice when Arthur stops. I am still walking, distracted by the jungle, when I suddenly bump into his back.
"Ah—" I hiss. It feels like my head just hit a wall.
He turns to face me.
"Sorry," I mutter lowering my head .
"Here." He points to a shabby little hut made of branches and dry grass. "That's the toilet."
Then he turns slightly and gestures to another hut, a bit bigger but just as rough. "That's for bathing."
He steps back . We are a few meters away from both huts.
I look down at my dress—dirty, stained, and wrinkled. I know I will have to wear it again today. I shake it lightly, trying to dust off the mud stuck to the fabric.And than I start walking toward the toilet.
"I'm standing right here," he says coldly. "Don't even try , to run , or do anything stupid."
I nodded and went inside, did what I have to, and come back out.
He is still there. Same place. Same posture.
Now I walk toward the bathing hut. After a few steps, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He hasn't moved.
I go inside. There is a bucket full of water sits in the corner, with a small jug beside it. I dip my fingers in. The water is cold. It isn't winter, that I cant bathe in cold water—but I am used to warm baths.
I took off my clothes and fill the jug and with a deep breath i pour it on me .The moment the cold water touches my skin, I gasp.
Goosebumps in my whole body and me breathing heavily.
I gathered all my courage, fill the jug again, take a deep breath, and pour it over myself.
When the water hits my wounds, pain shoots through me.
I gasped the same with every jug of cold water and it was getting more and more tough everytime.
After I finish, goosebumps cover my entire body. I stare at my clothes—still dirty, still stained.
"What's the point of bathing if I have to wear these, dirty clothes again?" I whisper to myself.
But I have no choice So I put them on.
Before stepping outside, I pull apart the grass and branches just enough to make a small gap and peek through.
He is still standing there—motionless, like a mountain guarding the path.
He is, about six or seven meters away.
If I run now… can I outrun him? My legs are not injured. I can run.
But... he looks strong—broad shoulders, steady stance, the worrier body , looks built for chasing.
If he catches me… will he kill me? They will tie me up again.
And what if next time they don't even let me out to bathe?
My chest tightens. But if I don't run, I stay here.
In this forest.
In these huts.
With them.
And if I do run…
I might live.
My life is already falling apart. What more can I lose?
I step out of the hut and stand in front of the door. Arthur is watching me.
My heart pounds so loud .
What should I do…
what should I do…
I took a little step towards him , lowering my head and searching any secape tgrough jungle from the corner of my eyes.
As I am walking slowly towards him he turned towards the hut .
Before fear can stop me —
I turn.
And run.