Revenge of the Princess

16 yr old Josleah learns the truth and fights for her crown

“Your Highness, wait!” Eric’s voice echoed through the stone corridor, bouncing off towering pillars as he raced to catch up with me. My slippers barely made a sound on the polished marble floor, but his armored boots clanged with every step, a constant reminder that escape was impossible.
I slipped around a corner, heart pounding, but I wasn’t fast enough. A sigh of frustration escaped me as I slowed to a reluctant stop, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across the gilded tapestries. If I kept running and he caught me, Father’s punishment would only be worse.
Eric’s tall frame closed the distance quickly. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.
“One would think you’d have learned by now,” he said, shaking his head.
Eric was more than just my guard—he was the only one who knew what Father truly was. But even that didn’t stop me from craving a single moment of solitude.
“Is it a crime to want to be alone for even a few moments, sir?” I shot back, lifting my chin.
“Princess, you know the rules your father has placed on you,” he said evenly. “I know you don’t like them, but he has his reasons. It would do you well to follow them. Now come. The King awaits.”
“Please don’t tell him,” I whispered. “It was just a moment alone. That’s all.”
“No,” Eric said, his tone flat. There was no warmth in his voice, no sign he cared about what would happen next. His gauntleted hand clamped around my arm, the cold metal biting into my skin, and he began leading me back.
The corridors grew colder as we neared the throne room. The torches lining the hallway barely pushed back the darkness. My heartbeat quickened, echoing louder than the guards’ distant footsteps. Eric shoved open the towering oak doors, and I was dragged forward, the gleaming marble floor reflecting the golden light from the massive chandelier overhead.
“Again, Eric?” Father’s voice carried easily through the cavernous throne room, calm but heavy with restrained anger. He sat on his throne, draped in crimson robes, a golden crown glinting against his dark hair.
“Unfortunately, Your Majesty. She still has not learned,” Eric replied, his voice formal, detached.
I knelt, staring at the floor, refusing to look up. The scent of polished wood and incense couldn’t mask the sharp tang of fear in the air. Father’s heavy boots clicked as he descended the steps of the dais, each step louder than the last.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I kept my head bowed, biting the inside of my cheek to hide the fear trembling through me.
“Father, please. I only wanted a moment alone,” I whispered.
His hand shot out, fingers twisting painfully in my hair, jerking my head back so I was forced to meet his cold, steel-gray eyes.
“I said, look at me,” he growled. “You know the rules and why they’re in place. This time, I’ll make sure you don’t disobey again.”
With a sharp motion, he shoved me upright and hurled me toward Eric. I stumbled into his chest, and he steadied me, his grip tightening as if to hold me together.
“Take her to her room. Now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eric’s fingers dug into my arm as he led me through dimly lit corridors. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by sputtering torches, and the faint chill of the castle seeped into my bones.
“You’re my guard,” I said bitterly. “Why can’t you guard me from him?”
Eric didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tight. But as we approached my chamber doors, his voice dropped to a whisper so soft I had to strain to hear.
“I know you think I don’t care, but I do. I’ve been waiting for the right moment. You have to trust me, Josie.”
I froze at the sound of my nickname—something I hadn’t heard from him in months.
“When your father leaves tonight, make your way to the farthest corner of your closet,” he murmured. “Knock four times on the back wall. Someone will be there to get you out.”
Before I could respond, we reached my suite. Eric dismissed the guards with a sharp gesture and shoved me inside. The door shut behind me, and he took his post. The air in my chamber felt suffocating.
Moments later, the door opened again, and Father entered. Eric slipped out, leaving me alone with him. I forced myself to stand tall, locking away the fear clawing at my throat.
“I pray this will teach you obedience, Josleah,” he said, his voice cold. “This gives me no comfort, despite what you think.”
He grabbed me, flinging me to the floor. The impact rattled my bones, and before I could scramble away, his fist came down.
The beating seemed endless. Each blow echoed in the chamber, muffled only by the thick velvet curtains. My cries were swallowed by the room’s heavy silence. When he finally left, punctuating his rage with a brutal kick to my ribs, I lay on the floor gasping for air.
Eric’s promise rang in my ears. Freedom. I just had to make it to the closet.
I pushed to my knees, every movement sending sharp pain through my body. The polished stone floor felt icy beneath my palms as I crawled toward the closet, using the doorframe to pull myself upright. The scent of cedar filled my nose as I staggered to the ottoman. Inside, hidden beneath a folded blanket, lay my mother’s owl necklace—a silver pendant with emerald eyes. Father had never thought to look there.
I slipped it over my neck, its cool metal pressing against my bruised skin, and turned to the back wall. My vision swam, but I pressed forward. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.
“My ribs are definitely broken now,” I groaned.
Pain seared through my body with every shallow breath, but I crawled on, hatred for my father fueling each desperate movement. Finally, I reached the back wall and knocked four times.
The wall shifted, and a hidden door creaked open. A boy about my age stood there, his face pale.
“Oh, gods,” he whispered, rushing forward. He crouched down, his hands surprisingly gentle as he tried to help me stand. I cried out, and he froze. “I’m sorry, Princess. We need to move. You can’t walk, so I’ll carry you.”
Eric’s sincerity echoed in my mind, and I trusted him. I slumped into the boy’s arms as darkness closed in.
“What’s your name?” I gasped.
“Cole. Sleep, Princess. I’ll take care of you.”
I let go