Chapter 6 4.1
Daisy remained frozen on the bed, her breathing uneven as she stared at the closed door. Questions chased one another through her mind, refusing to settle. He had walked away. She knew he didn’t cum. Why? Hatred burned in his eyes every time he looked at her, so why had he stopped? Why hadn’t he stayed until he believed he had nutted in her and his revenge was complete? Wasn’t that the whole point? To break her beyond repair?
She searched for an answer in her cloudy mind and found none. In the end, it didn’t matter.
The silence finally broke when a sob escaped her lips. Then another. Soon she wasn’t trying to hold them back anymore. Her heart felt so heavy. She hated her father so much.
Her shoulders shook violently as days of buried grief crashed over her all at once. Since the day her country had fallen, she had forced herself to survive one moment at a time. She hadn’t cried when she watched soldiers storm the palace. She hadn’t cried when her father died. Matter of fact, it was such a huge relief. She hadn’t cried when chains replaced jewels or when they dragged her across the border into the hands of the devil.
Now she couldn’t stop. The pain wasn’t just in her body and between her legs. It was everywhere. She felt literally how the blood was dripping down her legs. She was literally split open like a pack of chips.
She had spent years imagining what her future might look like. Sometimes she pictured a spring wedding beneath blooming trees. Sometimes she imagined dancing beneath the stars with a husband who looked at her as though she were the only woman in the world.
She had dreamed of kindness. Of laughter. Of choosing the man she would spend the rest of her life beside.
Instead, every dream had been buried beneath the ruins of a country that no longer existed.
“Why?” she whispered into the empty room.
Her voice cracked. “Father… why?”
The walls gave her no answer.
She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, wishing she could tell whether the ache there hurt more than the rest of her. One wound would eventually heal.
She wasn’t so sure about the other. After several long minutes, she forced herself to move.
Every step felt unsteady as she climbed off the bed. Relief washed over her when she realized Lorenzo was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t bear the thought of him watching her struggle to stand or seeing the tears she had failed to hide.
She reached for the robe lying on the floor and wrapped it tightly around herself before leaving the chamber without looking back.
The walk through the palace felt endless.
By the time she reached the corridor, exhaustion weighed heavier than fear. The guard unlocked her room without a word.
She stepped inside. The familiar stone walls greeted her like old enemies.
She lowered herself onto the hard bed and curled into the smallest space she could manage.
She wiped angrily at her face.
“No more,” she whispered to herself. “Enough.”
Another tear escaped anyway. She clenched her fists.
“I won’t break.”
The words sounded fragile, but saying them aloud made them feel real.
“They can take my freedom. They can take my name. They can even take my crown.”
She drew in a shaky breath.
“But they won’t take me.”
She lifted her head.
She might wear a commoner’s clothes now, but deep inside she was still Princess Daisy. And Princess Daisy would survive.
A knock interrupted her thoughts before the cell door creaked open.
Beau stepped inside carrying a small lantern, her expression gentler than usual.
“The king has asked for you,” she said politely. Daisy stared at her in disbelief.
“What?”
“He ordered me to take you from this room.”
Something inside Daisy snapped. She shot to her feet despite the ache running through her body.
“What does he want from me now?” she shouted, her voice echoing through the corridor.
Beau raised a calming hand.
“If you’ll just let me explain—”
“No!” Daisy cried, taking a step back. “Tell him to leave me alone! I’ve had enough! Do you hear me? Enough!”
The older woman waited until the outburst faded before speaking again.
“You must learn to let go of that pride if you hope to survive.”
Daisy laughed bitterly.
“Survive? Is that what you call this?”
“It’s what kept many of us alive.”
Beau’s eyes grew distant.
“We served your father once. We learned quickly that fighting every battle only meant dying sooner.”
“My father is dead,” Daisy replied sharply. “Now your devil king has taken his place.”
“King Lorenzo is not the devil you believe he is.”
Daisy stared at her.
“Not a devil?” she repeated in disbelief. “After everything he’s done to me?”
“You know only a fraction of what that man went through, child.”
Beau stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“You have no idea what your father did to him.”
“I know enough.”
“No,” Beau said firmly. “You don’t. You’re father protected from every evil he did to many of us!”
Silence settled between them. Finally, Beau met Daisy’s eyes.
“He’s holding back with you, do you know that?”
Daisy let out a disbelieving scoff.
“Holding back?” she repeated. “Is that supposed to comfort me? Have you seen how that man was raping me in his room? Look at my legs, I’m bleeding I think I might have broke my vagina!”
“If His Majesty truly wished to repay every cruelty your father inflicted upon him…” Beau’s voice remained steady. “…he would have begun by frying your vagina and cutting off your breasts and feeding it to you.”
Daisy’s face drained of color.
“W-what?”
Beau shook her head.
“Forget I said that.”
She straightened her skirts before continuing.
“If you’re finished arguing, listen carefully. The king has ordered that you be moved to the higher quarters by.”
Daisy blinked.
“I’m sorry… what did you say?”
“Come with me.”
Without another explanation, Beau turned and walked away.
Confused and aching, Daisy followed her through unfamiliar corridors until they reached another wing of the palace. Beau pushed open a wooden door, revealing a modest room with a neatly made bed, a washbasin, and a single window overlooking the gardens.
Daisy stopped in the doorway.
“What am I doing here?”
Beau looked at her.
“This is your room.”
“My… room?”
She slowly turned in a circle, unable to understand why any of this was happening.
“Get some rest,” Beau said. “The king will ask for you again tomorrow. Make sure you’re well rested.”
Without another word, the older woman left. Daisy closed the door behind her. She was too exhausted to question any of it.
Collapsing onto the bed, she let the softness pull her into darkness.
Sleep was easier than reality.
But one thought refused to leave her mind.
What did Beau mean when she said Lorenzo was holding back?
And whatever the hell did she mean by him frying the fuck out of her vagina and cutting of her breasts? What type of cruelty did her father inflicted upon these people?!!!
