Chapter 5

Freya almost couldn't remember the rest of the torture. But several minutes passed before she felt his touch off her body. He brought a towel and let it fall on her, starting to dry her before she flinched and nodded in the negative, her eyes closed from embarrassment. 

 “I can dry myself… Draven,” she spoke, so embarrassed by the fact that he had seen and touched her body that she couldn't bear to look in his eyes. 

 He didn't respond. After some seconds, Freya heard the bathroom door close shut. 

 She immediately opened her eyes and stepped off the tub after drying herself. Then she looked at her appearance in the mirror. Nothing had changed —just that her cheeks were pink and she looked nervous and stressed.

 Freya stepped out of the bathroom to the chambers after wearing her nightgown, half-expecting to meet him there. But the room was empty. She felt a little sad about that. 

 She walked to the mirror in the room with a comb in her hand, numb and wondering how her brother was faring. Freya combed her hair slowly with her eyes shut when suddenly…

 “My Lady.“ 

 “What the—” she abruptly jumped off the chair with fear in her eyes and face, her gaze falling immediately on an equally shocked Joan. “How are you here?“ 

 “I'm sorry for scaring you… my Lady. I just wanted to inform you that the King and Queen requested your presence. They want to have dinner and get to meet you personally.“ 

  “King and Queen?“ Freya was really confused.

 “Yes, my lady.“ Joan smiled and lowered her head. “Lord Draven's parents.“ 

 “He's a Prince?!“ Freya had suspected this from the very beginning, but wasn't very sure since he was referred to as  “The Lord''.

 “He is, My Lady,” Joan calmly replied, not showing any form of impatience. 

 Freya's wide agape mouth slowly shut close. “So… that means… I really am a princess. I'm a damn Princess to a mysterious Prince who I have strong feelings for but barely know.“ Freya's mind was far away from the room and castle now, and it was only after Joan cleared her throat that she came back to the present. 

 “I should help with your hair, my Lady.“ 

 Freya nodded and sat back on the chair, too ashamed of the fact that she had appeared so swooned about being a Princess to her maid. In reality, Freya was nervous about meeting his parents. She couldn't help but think of what they thought of her, and she knew they weren't at the wedding which made her more nervous. And she felt a little stupid for not asking him about his parents earlier. Had she seriously assumed that he lived alone in this gigantic castle? 

 “Joan?“ 

 “Yes, my Lady.“

  “I want to ask a question… one that might make you uncomfortable.“ 

 “Ask me anything, my Lady.“ 

 Freya stilled herself. She didn't know the reason but she sincerely wanted to ask this particular question. “H-how many wives did he marry… earlier?“ 

 Joan froze, and Freya could feel the sudden shift in the air and the comb go off her hair. “My Lady…” 

 “I want to know!“ Freya sounded harsher than she intended, and she almost hit herself when she saw the pained look in Joan's eyes. 

 “Three, my Lady. Y-you're the fourth.“ 

 Freya stopped breathing as she processed Joan's reply. She felt real fear crawl up her skin for the first time. Three past wives? She had expected it to be two in the most. Had he killed all three of them with his…

  Freya closed her eyes, refusing to think of it. 

 “D-did you serve all of them… with Edith?“ 

 “Y-yes, my Lady,” Joan sounded broken by her reply. “All of them.“

 The pit of fear in Freya's heart grew deeper as she heard Edith. She held her breath as she asked the last question on her mind. “How did they die?“ 

 Suddenly, Joan stepped back with the comb in her hand and announced that she was done. Freya saw her reflection in the mirror and knew that she was indeed done but was trying to avoid answering her question. So she persisted. “How, Joan? I want to know.“ 

 “My Lady… those things aren't important. And I'm not in the position to—” 

 There was a sudden knock on the door, and then Edith's figure peeped into the room. She seemed to notice the tension in the room and immediately had an apologetic look in her face for disturbing them.

 “What?“ asked Freya, sounding harsh and snappy.

 Edith bowed. “The King and Queen are waiting, my Lady. It seems they won't bother to start the meal before your presence.“ 

 “Well let them wait forever” Freya wanted to say but stopped herself at the last second. 

 Both the maids helped Freya get into a beautiful emerald dress and made her wear an emerald jewellery with light make-up before they left the room. 

 As they progressed through the halls, Freya's heart panicked as she imagined the worst scenarios in her head. Maybe they wouldn't like her. Maybe they'd give Draven their full support to make her death “more pleasurable than the others”. 

 “Calm down, my Lady,” Edith said, talking as casually as Freya was her long-time friend. “His and her Majesty are the nicest people on earth. They would surely welcome you with open hands and hearts.“

 Freya was taken by surprise by Edith's words. She expected them both to notice she was a little nervous but didn't know it was this obvious. She took a glance at Joan at the other side, who looked completely silent and dead. Freya knew she was scolding Edith for speaking in her head. 

 They passed several guards and more servants in the halls as they strode to the great hall, each bowing and smiling awkwardly to their new “princess”.

 Finally, they reached their destination and Freya said a short prayer before entering the wide room.

  The room was beautiful as expected and had the vibe of riches and royalty, but Freya didn't have the time to look around and take it all in—she appeared more scared than she felt. Her face was down for the whole time and she didn't realise when she walked straight into the magnificent dining table.

 “My L-lady,” Edith stuttered and helped Freya step back from her contact with the table.

   What a grand first impression. 

   Freya was aware that she would never muster the courage to look up now because of embarrassment. The fear in her heart was immediately replaced by uneasiness when she realised that he must be watching her too.

  Finally… “Hmm…” someone cleared their throat and approached Freya.

 “I'm so excited at finally getting to meet you, daughter-in-law. I'm Queen Camilla, and—”

 “Woman! You're making her more uncomfortable,” said the King. 

 Freya could finally look at both of them. Her husband's mother was in front of her, dressed in the finest silk and wearing heavy-looking jewelries with her blonde hair and grey eyes. The King was considerably a little different. He had a serious expression on his face with the crown resting on his black hair. Freya instantly noticed that Draven didn't take after his father or mother at all except for the fact that the King's hair was also black—and for a second she could have believed he was adopted.

 Queen Camilla looked a little hurt before she smiled again and made Freya sit near a bored-looking Draven. 

 Freya couldn't bear to look at his face after what happened in the bathroom so she simply looked over to the entrance of the great room and discovered that her maids weren't there. 

 “We must say we're really glad you're here,” the King started to say again, avoiding Draven's gaze completely. “I want to say the Royal family welcomes you and hope you accompany our son, Lord Draven, through the… long phase of life.“ 

 Freya clearly heard the doubt and uncertainty in his voice when he said those words, and she was starting to wonder if Draven would really kill her. She shivered at the thought of it.

 Queen Camilla cleared her throat again and ordered that they start to eat. Freya looked at the different kinds of mouth-watering and appealing food on the table and thought of her brother—of how he would have loved to try every single food and drink, and that made her even sadder.

 “Don't you like the food?“ Draven asked, almost too quietly.

 Freya was about to ignore his question and start eating when she noticed that he hadn't touched any food either. She wondered if she should ask him why but then decided against it and began to eat.

 The great room was quiet for the whole time and only the small kinky sounds of cutleries hitting the plates were heard. Until Freya couldn't take it any longer and told the King and Queen that she was done eating and would like to go to her chambers and rest. 

  Draven didn't say a word to that.

 Freya thanked them for the food and was about to leave when the King called her back.

 “Yes, your Majesty?“ Freya replied, just as she has been taught by Edith.

 “You know… when I was a Prince, it was compulsory for the newly wedded wife of the Prince to ride out to the city on the evening of their wedding.“ 

 Freya waited for him to finish even though she already guessed where this was going.

 “So… I'm suggesting you go out on a ride with Lord Draven to help you both b-bond better. It hasn't been done for quite a long time.“ 

 Freya glanced over at her husband who was still sitting unbothered on the chair, his face looking as blank as always. She didn't want to go on a ride with him for anything in the world. He could decide to fulfil his promise and end her life before he came back alone—kill her on the very night of their wedding.

 “I—I don't think it's a good idea, your Majesty,” she said, sounding rather arguably.

 The King nodded his head. “What do you think, son?“ 

 Freya waited for what seemed like years with held breath before he finally gave his reply.

 “I think it's a really good idea, father.“ 

  “…..“