.•° ✿ °•.

"Alice." I smiled, as the copper-haired girl happily bounced over to me.

"The evening is going rather nicely." she gushed, looking around at her handiwork.

"Yes, but, as you said, the guests here are mildly infuriating." I replied.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before the ball ends, and then there's the dinner, which is exceedingly stressful for the maids." she said, growing worried.

"How so?"

"One thing - The slightest thing - Out of place, and the rich folk think it should cost us our jobs." she scoffed.

"And has it ever?" I inquired.

"No, of course not. The King wouldn't fire us under such petty circumstances."

"Really? I've always been told that he is a cruel and ruthless man." I frowned.

"No, not at all."

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

"He, just... Let's just say that, long ago, he did me a favour for which I don't think I could ever repay him." she said.

"And what was it?"

She tensed, and I could tell that I'd brushed upon a tough subject for her, likely to do with her past, so I opted to change the subject to the couples that had attended. After we poked fun at several of them for their egotistic behaviours, the orchestra at last stopped, and the guests began to clear out, save those who were fortunate enough to be invited to the dinner afterwards. As I made my way out of the room, I looked at the table that Anne and I had worked so hard to fill with deserts, only to find it, for the most part, untouched. I scoffed at this, before exiting the large ballroom, and making my way down the dim hallway. Suddenly, the sound of the doors from which I'd just come rang out, disrupting the silence. I turned, finding that the King was making his way to me, a disapproving look on his face.

"You think you can simply sneak out the moment I turn away from you?" he asked, raising a brow.

"No, I was under the impression that you did not want me to attend the dinner." I retorted, folding my arms.

"And you were incorrect. You will be attending."

"I can't imagine your esteemed guests would take too well to that." I scoffed.

"Then they shall have to bear it, my Rose." he smiled placing a hand on the small of my back and pushing back down the hall.

"George!" Anne's voice sounded from behind us and we turned.

"Anne, I told you not to call me that when we have guests." he frowned.

"If you care so much for these guests of yours, you could trouble yourself to show them more respect. You made a fool out of that poor duchess earlier." she folded her arms.

"I only refused to dance." he shrugged.

"And called her a halfwit." Anne said accusingly.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." he rolled his eyes.

"You bet it won't." She reprimanded him, disappearing through the door.

I chuckled softly, following him into the dining room and taking a seat in the chair beside his. To my dismay, I saw the Collins, as well as the elderly woman from before that I assumed to be Clara's mother, seated at the table, each looking as arrogant as ever. I felt out of place as I awkwardly looked about the room.

"So, brother." a man, the King's brother, it would seem, leaned in, his voice slightly above a whisper, "Have any women caught your eye this evening?"

"One, yes." he responded, and I jumped when I felt his hand rest on my upper thigh, the gesture concealed by the table, "Though I don't think that the topic is appropriate for the occasion, William."

"Alright, alright." he waved his hand, turning to face a woman across from him.

"I love what you've done with the ballroom, your highness." Clara smiled, placing a hand on the King's.

"Yes, well, that's entirely Trinity's doing." he replied indifferently, subtly pulling his hand away to adjust his collar.

"Trinity? You mean to tell me you know the names of each of your maids? Whatever for?" Clara asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Perhaps, because like you, his maids are human beings, who each deserve the courtesy of being called by their names just as well as anyone else." I scoffed, defending my friend.

The others scowled, as though my mere presence was enough of a pain without my input on the matters they were discussing. I tensed as the King's hand slowly made its way up my leg. I tried to push it away without prevail.

"For a woman who feels she must so actively advocate her opinions, you seem exceedingly nervous." he said, noting my constant squirming and flushed demeanour.

I shot him a death glare, as he subtly smirked. The others took to ignoring me, and continued discussing topics like money, war, and arranged marriages. After some time, the King at last pulled his hand away, and I let out a sigh of relief as my shoulders relaxed, and the crimson started to fade from my cheeks, earning a laugh from the King. The dinner slowly dragged on, and I could tell the King was bored, he had the fakest smile plastered on his face as he spoke about the curtains in the drawing room with a very persistent Clara. I too was bored, I just didn't bother to hide it. After what seemed like hours, and my anxiety to leave had become nearly intolerable, dessert was served.

"So, your highness." Clara began, in a tone that led me to believe she was about to make an unpleasant remark, "How long do you plan to keep this French tramp about the palace? Of course, you shan't have her as a mistress once you take on a wife."

I immediately looked at the King, wondering how he would respond. And, strangely enough, I felt fear. Fear that he might, contrary to what Anne had said, not care for me in the slightest. Although it pained me to admit, I was beginning to care for the King, only slightly, but he was slowly earning my trust, a feat that most cannot claim to have done. I only hoped that with his answer, he would not squander it. He looked puzzled for a moment, before responding.

"I suppose, return her to France, or have her hanged... I haven't quite decided, though marriage isn't something I've been too ardently pursuing as of late." he said, and my heart sunk.

"She is a French soldier, surely she should be hanged." someone called.

"I agree, your majesty, the less French soldiers out there, the better a chance we have to win the war." Clara spoke softly, feigning an air of innocence.

"Especially since she now knows the palace, the guards, and yourself, your highness." another man said.

"Forgive me, but I must excuse myself." I hastily stood from the table, storming from the room.

I'd never been humiliated like that before, even while working as a soldier, surrounded by nothing but male comrades who made it their goals to do so. How could I have been stupid enough to have begun to care for the King, to trust him? I was shocked as I felt tears pricking my eyes. But I refused to let them fall. I would not cry over someone so wicked as the King. I at last made it to my room, where I locked myself in, before sitting on the floor, my back leaning against the closed door.

What made wealthy folk and royals feel so empowered? So much better than everyone else? Money didn't define a person's worth, it was a mere possession, how could it? I took in a shaky breath, as a knock at the door sounded.

"Miss Rosalie?" I heard Fran's voice from the other side of the door.

"Yes?" I tried to keep calm, but my voice cracked.

"Are you alright?" Alice's voice asked.

"I am. I'm fine, you needn't worry." I answered.

"Trinity heard what happened, Rosalie, it was horrible. You didn't deserve that." Fran said.

"What, to have my fate discussed around a dinner table, most of them voicing their opinion that I should be condemned to death? Non, personne ne mérite une telle chose." I sighed.

"Would you like us to help?" Alice spoke softly.

"With?"

"The corset." Fran finished.

"Would you?" I laughed, standing and opening the door, "I fear I shall be suffocated in a matter of seconds."

The girls entered the room, and helped to take of the corset that had been crushing my waist all night long, and we chatted happily amongst ourselves. After at last washing off my makeup, undoing my hair, and slipping into the purple dress I'd worn earlier, the girls left to help the other servants clean up the ballroom. I stepped out onto the balcony, breathing in the cool winter night air.

The King hadn't changed, as I'd come to think. He never had. I just wanted to believe that he had, so that my fate of being trapped in the palace for years to come might seem less horrible. I don't know how long I'd been out on the balcony reflecting, minutes, perhaps hours, but the silence comforting me was broken at the sound of the wood framed glass doors opening. I turned, only to find the King, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Come to torment me some more?" I scoffed, turning away from him, "Or, perhaps, you would rather discuss the method of execution I would most prefer?"

"Rosalie..." he began, but trailed off.

"If you've come to say something, then say it. I don't think I can bear your presence for much longer."

"I couldn't have said anything else. I didn't have a choice."

"Wrong. You could have, you always have a choice, especially when you're the fucking King of Great Britain!" I shouted.

"And why should you care what I thought of you? You've made it very clear that you, what was it, loathed me? And I do believe that I've made it clear that I don't care for you. You are a toy, a simple pass time, to me. Nothing that can't be replaced." he retorted.

"I know." I said quietly, walking past him, back to the castle, "And I won't make the mistake of thinking otherwise ever again, your majesty."

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