"Aaaaahhh…!" someone screamed, ducking at a corner with her hands over her head.
"What's happening? Is the castle under attack?" Another asked, running in the opposite direction before stopping to accessthe sitiation.
The palace guards closest to where the explosion happened immediately started running towards it.
The explosion of the carriage garnered much attention, and many more voices echoed in her ears. Edith could also feel their eyes on her, but she didn't pay any attention to them, for she had more pressing matters at hand to heed their voices.
With her bow and arrow ready to deliver the next strike, her gaze zeroed in on Evans he had fallen to his knees with one hand placed on the ground supporting his weight and the other on his chest.
Evans spat out blood from his mouth and, with the back of his palm, wiped his lips. He chuckled. "It has been a long time since anyone managed a surprise attack like that. I must admit, you are good. Much better than I thought."
He looked up and saw her holding a bow, and he smiled, knowing he was right. It was a different weapon, and not many could get their hands on the artifact in her possession. Not even he could get one easily.
"Tell me something, little girl," He rose to his feet and dusted off the dust on his knees. "How and where did you get that?" He asked with his gaze locked on the bow with a ray of light the shape of an arrow.
"Were you involved in what happened?" She asked instead, and he frowned.
What's with her asking questions in place of answers? Evans thought, almost sighing.
"I do not have the time for this…" he paused, feeling a familiar gaze on them. He looked around but couldn't find the source until he lifted his gaze, and up, standing by a tower window was the man whose gaze he had felt. Seeing him nod his head, Evans took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It seems our time is up….for now. We will continue this conversation some other time."
"I never said this was over," Edith said, about to fire another arrow when she felt a cold and sharp metal tip on the back of her neck. She stilled.
"I believe that is more than enough to announce your presence in my castle," came a voice colder than the metal tip against her skin. "Drop it," he ordered.
Against her will, Edith let down her hands, and the weapon receded as well, taking the shape of a bracelet on her wrist. She could feel his gaze run down her body, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her fists were tightly clenched at her sides. There was no way she wouldn't know who that was.
She looked ahead at the guards who earlier came to the scene and saw them standing with their heads bowed and a fisted right hand on the chest. That was the sign that she needed to confirm her assumption.
"Is this how I ask you to handle her?" He said, sending a chill through her being.
"It was my mistake, your Majesty," Evans replied with a polite bow.
"The second in one day to be precise," he stated, and Evans bowed his head in shame. "And you," Edith held her breath, but she tried and mustered up courage to look at him from the side of her eye. "Is this how you thank your savior?"
Edith blinked at the slight change in his tone. Wasn't he all cold and domineering just a second ago? Turning her neck a little, she caught a smirk on his lips, albeit just fleetingly. The metal that once touched her neck was also gone, leaving her befuddled.
Although perplexed and a little thrown off, she spoke without falter. "If the savior was someone else I might have been a little more 'grateful' I assure you," she said, turning around slowly until she was standing face to face with the infamous king of Glenmoor.
Her breath caught, and she took a cautious step back but not out of fright. In fact, she didn't even know why she stepped back. All she knew was that she couldn't look away from his face, for he was as handsome as he was dangerous. The dark and cold aura that he exuded made him appear so distant and untouchable, yet also pulled you closer, leaving you entranced.
"Cold beauty…" uttered inaudibly.
He arched a brow even though he didn't hear what she said, and Edith became flushed and averted her gaze.
"I had initially wanted to make you a maid…" he began.
"What?!" Edith exclaimed. She looked up so quickly that her neck ached at the abrupt motion. Her hand shot to her neck, pressing lightly on the aching spot.
"Serving and cleaning the castle like every other, but I have changed my mind," he continued as if he didn't hear her. "I have decided to keep you by my side, little one," he said, stabbing the sword in his hand on the ground beside him, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face and drew closer till he could feel her breath on his face. "You will serve me the same as Evans. You will have your quarters, servants, and everything you could ever desire. All you have to do is be an obedient…"
"You must be delusional," Edith uttered, swatting away his hand and taking a step back.
"How dare you disrespect his majesty…" a guard yelled and stepped forward to punish the disrespectful girl but received a death glare from Davion. "Mercy… my King…"
"As I was saying…." Davion started again, his gaze tender as if he wasn't the one whose gaze nearly sent another to his grave.
"I have no business with you, King Davion of Glenmoor. So I must be on my way —back home," Edith interrupted.
Everyone held their breath thinking their short tempered king would erupt, but to their surprise, he smirked. He looked pleased, and that alone left them dumbfounded.
"Aren't you just an interesting little one? I like you more," Davion said, and Edith brows pulled together, wondering if he was even listening to the words that left her mouth.
"May I speak, your Majesty?" Evans said, walking closer to them.
"You may not," Davion said, dismissively and without sparing Evans a glance. "How about a little game?" He said, his gaze still steady on Edith.
Edith ached a brow, finding his suggestion rather amusing. But that changed when he opened his mouth and uttered the following words,
"If you win, you may go. But if you lose, I keep you. But no longer as a servant who gets her wages but as a pet of mine."
"May I ask what game?" Edith asked with furrowed brows. She had no intensions of participating on his games, but she was curious to know what type of game Davion would play.
His lips curled beautifully and slowly as he leaned forward, with a finger under her chin, he whispered, "Hide and Seek," he straightened his posture and continued, "Or as I prefer to call it, The Hunter and the Prey."