𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓

Pandora

♡

"Absolutely not!"

Father scream is outraged, evidently having completely forgotten who's presence he's in. Even Mother can't help herself and let her façade fall for a split second, in which she lets her gaze wander off to the traitor, who to her, abandoned her family - her own flesh and blood. My mind is trained to be unwavering, so no matter how intense her bitter stare gets, I refuse to look up at her. I won't let these teal eyes decide for me again. Never again.

"Your Majesty, I'm not sure what my sister has done for you to want to bring her back to your Palace, but I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement on this." Jonathan begs, getting even more infuriated when I provoke him by bluntly holding his stare, instead of frighteningly look away like I normally would.

"This was my decision." I speak with presence. Like I would order my troops around during war. I don't have the emotional strength left to care about them. To unconditionally keep on giving while all they did was take and take, until I'm drained to the core.

"Pandora, how could you?"

Tearing up has always been my mother's way of winning arguments, because it'll undoubtedly make the person on the other side feel the tightness of guilt in their chest while their brains fight for what they know to be the right decision, and make her seem like the victim in every situation. I used to believe that I genuinely hurt her every time I opposed her, or anyone's, words. That I somehow mattered enough for them to feel any ounce of pain they made me feel every breath I take.

How naïve I was. When this entire time, it wasn't hurt they felt, but fear. Fear that I slipped out of their grasp, because they all knew I could've demanded my title and heritage back the moment I became eighteen years of age. I just never considered it necessary, since all I wanted was acceptance, not power.

Acceptance, I smirk darkly, as if these people have any idea what that is.

"What about us?"

"Don't speak ahead of yourself." I say, not bothering to look back at him. "There is has never been an 'us', our union was purely for political purposes."

"You don't want to marry me?" Lord Octavius asks in disbelief, probably because no other woman has rejected him before. I guess I'll have to teach him, gladly.

"If that hasn't been obvious by now, you're a greater moron that I took you for."

And with that, I turn to look at the King, who seems to enjoy this whole act way more than I do. I haven't told him anything about what happens behind the closed doors of our Palace, but he knows enough truth to be able to detect the many lies my family are blatantly hiding behind tears and whimpers. I had to make him accept my request, one way or the other. This is the way.

Pity.

Let him see me as the weak Princess who tries to escape her abusive home. Let him believe that I trust him by accompanying him to his Palace where I'll have control on my Clan, and when the threats of the Salavars have been eradicated, I'll pounce.

"When are we leaving, Your Highness?"

"In an hour, you should go pack."

I don't answer his smile and attempt to draw near me. If he mistakes my sudden interest in accompanying him back to Dynastra as a token of desire, he'll be deeply disconcerted. With a final nod in his direction, I walk out of the Throne Hall, completely ignoring those who once were my all, but now aren't even worth a parting glance. Barefoot, with my heels in hand, I run past maids and guards, not caring if it's considered uncanny.