Immediately, George went back to normal, his fist loosened, his breathing fast, as he tried to pull himself slowly from the floor but failed miserably.
He reached his hand for her and she held it gently in a reassuring manner.
“It’s okay,” she wiped her tears away. “You are okay.”
“Da-dadd-y…” Mira said, sniffling, and despite his pain, George managed to offer her a smile.
They would have stayed in their family moment forever but the hands that pulled George and Mira away, smashed the moment, letting it shatter away like pieces of broken glass.
She looked up to beg once again but the King was no longer there.
When had he left? She hadn’t even noticed.
In no time, they were dragging George and Mira out of the throne room.
There were strong hands on her too. Dragging her away, trying to separate the family.
Mira reached out to her in tears but before she could hold her daughter, the guards were gone with her.
They had taken George away too.
And she?
She had been brought back to her room. The guards let her alone, shutting the door.
“What are you going to do to my family?” With her voice filled with tears, Zezi turned to the only available person, Laura.
She snickered.
“The dungeon.”
Her heart dropped.
“You cannot throw them in the dungeon. George is weak and my daughter is sick. Please!” She was begging at the top of her lungs, her throat strained with how painful it was that her tears was chocking her. “Don’t you have a heart.”
Laura shrugged, “It’s dead.”
Zezi swallowed, trying to seem logical in order to deprive Laura the satisfaction of seeing her broken. Although, she felt that it was already too late for that.
“You can’t put them in the dungeon.”
“It’s the King’s orders,” she said heading to the door. “But don’t bother yourself too much. My brother intends to get rid of them very soon.”
That had better not be what she was thinking.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Laura looked at her from above her shoulder and flashed her an evil grin.
“Figure it out yourself.”
No way!
She ran up to her feet at that thought, running to the door to push it open, a foreign feeling crossed through her body at the unbudging impact, like this was the strangest thing to have ever happened to her since she got here.
The door was locked!
She banged madly against it, shouting to be let out but there was no response.
She could hear guards at her door, guarding it.
Her breath fast and rapid, she flopped to the floor realizing he was now doing what she had expected the first time she had gotten here.
He was now taking her like a prisoner.
Her hands were shaking and she brought it up, holding it against her chest, whispering to herself, “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. My daughter. Oh George.”
Hot eyes welled up in her aching eyes before rolling down already tearstained paths on her cheeks.
She didn’t know how long she had spent there but there was a knock and she jumped up to her feet.
The room now seemed quite darker than it had been when the guards had brought her in.
She held the doorknob, pressing it down over and over again.
“Easy there, big guy,” she heard a farmilar voice said jovially.
Gwen?
That was Gwen!
“I’m just here to bring her late lunch.”
Then the door pushed open and in came Gwen strolling in, with a trolley of food.
Before she could get the chance to by pass them and escape, the door was locked yet again.
“I need to get out here.” She said to Gwen who offered her a wide smile instead.
“You must be hungry,” she walked away like as if nothing had happened, pulling the trolley to the table to set it up.
“My kids love all the tales I tell them about you, it keeps them occupied while they argue and plan about the day they’ll finally get to meet you. Gives my mate and I more time to,” she blushed, then winked. “Please sit, eat while the food is still warm.”
“Food is not my problem!”
Zezi rushed to her, holding her hand again in a desperate plea.
“You must help me get out of here.”
Gwen’s smile fell when she looked up at her, it reminded Zezi of that day that she had seen those lashes on her skin.
They were gone now though.
“Even if I wanted to, Milady, I cannot. I cannot defile my Sire.” She said, her voice as cold as ice and as firm as she had ever heard it. It was almost like as if there was a fear of a distant memory keeping her act in order. Then she smiled broadly, like as if tension hadn’t just filled the room to the point of suffocation.
“Please,” she draw the chair back, and pulled her gently into the seat. “Your food.”
Then she held the trolley, pulling it along with her on her way to the door but she paused, like as if on a second thought, and looked back at Zezi.
“If there is anything else you need, tell me, let me help you with it, my Lady.”
“Is he going to keep me locked in here forever?! I want to see my family! And he better not hurt them,” she flew up to her feet, banging her fists against the table at that thought.
She had been so deep in thought, she hadn’t heard Gwen’s offer.
Gwen’s smile broadened, “you might not be able to step out for a while and my visits here have now been limited to only three times a day. Again, my Lady, is there anything you might need?” she asked, completely disregarding her outburst.
Furious about her helplessness, she sat back in the chair.
“What can you possibly help me with?”
“Anything. You just have to ask.”