Chains to Crowns

A tear rolled down her cheek, she’d counted ten.

Ten cracks of the whip, he’d never gone above ten.

The terrifying swish told her it wasn't over.

She let out a sob.

Klara was pulled into Marc’s side, she felt tiny against him, she wanted to relax into him but she was very aware who he was. He was leading her through multiple corridors. She was slightly glad of the King half holding her up, despite the wish to whimper with the burning pain at every movement of his arm.

He pushed open a set of double doors gilded in gold. “This is my Wing.” He gestured around the grand entranceway, a desk sat in the middle. “That’s Rose, she helps manage the Wing, if you need anything just ask her,” he said as he half dragged her into the room, his arm locked around her waist tighter. Unknown to Marc she winced and had to grit her teeth to not make a sound.

“Good morning, my King.”

“Morning Rose. this is Klara, she’ll be your Queen.” Klara looked around, her cheeks burning at Marc’s blatant declaration. He pulled her past the desk, up a set of sweeping stairs. “Living quarters are up here, I’ll show you around later, you must be tired.” He wasn’t giving her much time to talk so she stayed quiet, taking in the cream walls with gold accents painted beautifully on the walls.

He opened a door showing a grand bedroom, Klara looked around stunned, she’d never seen a bedroom so magnificent. A large four-poster bed with deep azure drapes contrasted the cream walls. Glass doors lead to a balcony, which she could see part of the woodland beyond the doors. “Is this your room?” Klara asked quietly.

“Our room.” Marc squeezed her gently, she stiffened a little against him. She didn’t even know him and mate or not he was still scary. She’d grown up around wolves who stated the royals were heartless animals who thrived on torture and power. They were greedy who flourished while people under their rule starved.

But she’d been starved by her own father, beaten and whipped for existing. So, she supposed whatever the King did to her couldn’t be much worse than what she’d already experienced… she hoped. She was led through another door which was another room dripping with wealth; a bathroom.

The floor sparkled with gold streaked marble, which glinted in the many lights strategically placed to brighten the bathroom. The marble floor led to a shower which could easily fit 5 warriors, marble seating edged the shower walls with glass around the other two sides. Next to the shower was a step up to another level, within the platform was a bathtub sunk into the floor which again was for 2 people if not more. Opposite the bath were the double vanity sinks with drawers underneath. Finally, a low wall separated a small area which was the toilet.

Klara couldn’t help but gape at the room, Marc left her standing there while he twisted taps, water instantly started filling the marble tub. He ran his hands over a couple of different coloured bottled lines on a shelf, picking up a purple bottle. Klara watched as he added the soap which instantly filled the room with the smell of lavender. Bubbles spang from the water like fluffy clouds. “You get settled in the bath, I’ll just find you clothes until someone fills the wardrobe for you. I’ve sent someone shopping already,” Marc said as he turned off the taps, he stepped away looking at Klara who hadn’t moved. “Do… Do you need help?” Klara bit her lip but shook her head. She could feel her legs shaking with the effort of keeping herself standing but she didn’t want to take the t-shirt off in front of Marc.

As soon as Marc left the room, Klara allowed herself to fall to the marble floor. Her exhaustion taking over, but she didn’t want to disobey the King. She pulled off the dark t-shirt, and dragged herself to the platform. She shakily lowered herself into the bath, finding a seat within the water, once she was comfortable, the water came up to her chin. She rested her head back, her eyes closing.

“Little one?” Klara’s eyes snapped open and she sat up suddenly hearing a male voice, her head connected with something hard. “Ow,” she moaned holding her head. Marc also gripped his forehead, rubbing it where she’d just inadvertently headbutted him. Klara realised what had happened, “Oh Goddess I’m so sorry,” her voice higher in fear; she’d just assaulted the King! “I’m so sorry, don’t hit me… please,” she whimpered. Marc’s hand dropped from his forehead.

“I’m not going to hit you…” his soft voice slow. He knew she’d been beaten, but her reaction suggested it wasn’t a one-time thing which he half hoped it was. He tentatively reached into the water to touch her shoulder, the crackles of electricity shooting through both of them.

She gulped at the contact, her bottom lip finding her teeth as she began chewing; biting the flesh from her lips. Marc frowned gently pulling her lips from her teeth with his thumb. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, concern swirling in his golden orbs.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“And stop apologising, shall we wash your hair?”

He stood and pulled more bottles from the shelf. “Why are you helping me?” She peered up to him as he knelt back down next to the bath, she was glad the water came up so high, and the bubbles hid everything. “Why wouldn’t I?” He began cupping water, wetting the top of her head “Mates take care of each other… right now, you need taking care of.” He gently massaged shampoo into her matted hair. Klara couldn’t help but lean into his hands, his gentle touch reminding her of her mother washing her hair as a child.

It took three rounds of shampoo before her hair was squeaking under his fingers. He put conditioner in, “Don’t rinse it off, I’ll get a comb,” he said gently moving to the sink, rummaging in a drawer.

Klara was wrapped in a large dressing gown, her knees drawn up to her chest while she sat in a large armchair. She watched as Marc laid out some clothes before a knock sounded on the door. A woman came in. “Mother, you didn’t need to. Chef could have done it.”

“Nonsense.” She let out a little squeak, “She’s beautiful!” she gasped looking at Klara.

“Mother!” Marc folded his arms at the blonde woman, her waist-length hair tied in a plait down her back.

“Sorry dear, I’m Elsbeth.” The women strode over, her hazel eyes glowing in happiness. She held out her hand, Klara eyed her hand suspiciously, “Klara,” she whispered, her arms safely tucked within the large dressing gown.

“Mother!” Marc cupped her elbow and led Elsbeth from the room. Klara could hear hushed whispers from the corridor until Marc came back in. “Sorry, she’s excited.”

“She’s your mum?” He nodded, he held out a plate of vegetable and salmon pasta for Klara. She reached out tentatively, expecting it to be snatched away before she reached it. She was surprised when her hands gripped the cool porcelain. She started shovelling the food into her mouth. “Woah, slow down.” She didn’t, she scoffed the meal within thirty seconds, expecting Marc to change his mind and take the meal away.

Marc took the empty plate, “Do you want more?” Klara shook her head, she could feel the pasta starting to hit her stomach. A few minutes later she was groaning as her stomach felt like it was being pumped up like a balloon. Marc looked across the room to her as she gripped her stomach. He strode over, “Maybe slow down next time? You can eat whenever you want.”

“I can?” she asked disbelievingly, he was just saying that.

“I’ll show you the kitchen after you’ve slept. Here…” He held out a pair of shorts and a vest top. “It’ll probably be too big, but until your clothes arrive you can sleep in these.”

“Thank you.” She stood reaching out for the clothes cautiously, wondering where he got them from.

She slid into the shorts while still wearing the dressing gown, then looked to the top and up to Marc, “Oh!” He turned around so she quickly disrobed and pulled on the slightly baggy vest top. Marc tugged the sheets back. “Get some sleep, if you wake up, there are clothes on the dressing table.” He gestured to the oak furniture. “And remember Rose? You can ask her anything, I’ll be in my office.” Klara slipped into bed, feeling weird knowing she’d be alone again, but she was used to being alone so it wasn’t too bad. But being alone in a strange room was disconcerting. However before she knew it, the comfort of the bed and the scent of Marc relaxed her straight to sleep.