My historical loving brain explodes at the sight of a room filled with leather and gold bound books. A room holding so muowledge about this world, its history and whatever bizarre books they would have in this pre-teological pce. Dark wood covers the bare walls not hidden by rge bookshelves and red paint was expertly painted on the ceiling. It reminded me of the beautiful tudor rooms royalty would’ve had ba Engnd. Oh how it is a sight for sore eyes and my eyes are thus. I trail my hands along the dust free shelves full of what feels like a books. I am suddenly stopped by a book jutting out, rger than the rest and decorated with red jewels, it intrigues me.

  “King Hadriel…” I read aloud the title on the side. That name sounds so familiar…It sounds quite like the tale my father used to tell me as a kid about a noble king who united his people and found the members of the roundtable. But I just think he fot the plot to King Arthur. Haha…I miss him so much.

  “I reise you.” “OH MY GOD!” I immediately grasp my chest in pure jumpscare horror. I turn around to face the person who just scared the shit out of me, and I curiously find the bck dressed man iuni earlier, sitting with his feet resting on the desk in front of him and holding an open book against his chest with one of his hands.

  “I-I was supposed to be ing…Sir.” I fumble out, trying to calm my heartbeat, blood pressure and my thoughts.

  “I saw you on Caspian’s horse outside. No man or woman of such standing would never be allowed so. Thus either you’re not a maid or…” I’m someone worthy enough to ride along with a duke…

  “Who are you?” He closes his book and puts it on his desk, slowly rising from it and walking towards me.

  “Depends…If you help me or not.” I narrow my eyes at him, curious to see if he would take a bite of my proposal.

  “Help you? But I don’t even know who you are?” He smirks, crossing his arms, leaning closer towards me. His hair falling softly in front of his face as he does so, giving him a mischievous appearance.

  “But you want to.” I smirk back at him, knowing I catch him in his curiosity.

  “You’re smart, and speak very freely…Okay, I'll bite, speak your desires .” He leans against the bookshelf o him, smiling curiously down to me.

  “I’d like to go home.” Ohh this could work, I could be getting out of here!!

  “And why is it that you 't?” He tilts his head wanting to gain more knowledge.

  “Caspian won’t let me.” I state the truth pin and clear to him. I am here against my will and would like to be set free.

  “It’s curious that you call him that. Are you close with the duke?” Oh shit…I fot he was a duke. I hope that my mistake doesn’t get me sent back to Caspian. Oh his clothes! He’s a nobleman, he might as well be friends with Caspian!

  “No, he kidnapped me in the forest.” Please don’t be friends with him! Please don’t be friends with him!!

  “Kidnapped you? From a forest? Well this is getting very iing.” Ah shittt!! I might as well just drop the whole bomb now.

  “Well not him per say…One of his men and Caspian now won’t let me go.” I plead to gain any sympathy from the man in hopes he has the mercy to help me get home.

  “So you’re a child of Arathus…Well I don’t see why a banished duke should hold one of my people captive.” He smiles towards me, but it seems uling? As if he were hiding malice behind a sympathetic facade. My mind is screaming to me that this man has alternative motivations to my request. But if my request was heard…Should its reasoning be questioned? I think not.

  “Your people?” Before the well-dressed man could speak the door opens and a male servant bows in.

  “Sire, the King asks for your attendao the Evia.” Sire? Is he a…Prince?! I hold my breath at the realisation.

  “Ah, what is your name? I'll e and find you.” He smiles meticulously, almost calcuted, if it wasn't obvious before that he had anenda, it was now.

  “Genevieve Woodsman.” My instincts tell me that I should hold back my words, my identity, but any help is good help, right? I really hope so, because my ces of getting out of here are getting slimmer and slimmer…

  The well dressed man leaves the room, leaving me all alone in the history filled room. But the room that was once filled with excitement over the vast knowledge that spa, now had an eerie atmosphere sihe ma. I walk over to the desk that was just in use a moment ago, my stomach strangely doing twists as I approach. He left his book…I hover over the book and reach for it. It was bd the symbols I had seeer use before were on it but they were different, twisted, something sio the beautiful scribing of the magic symbols. It looks corrupt, I'm not sure of the magic of this world but I know enough to see that this is something dark. The front page looks old and worn away, making the title hard to decipher, yet I could make out one word. Death…

  The sound of a anig outside drags me away from opening the book and iigating further. Oh Mandell! She's going to find me!

  Hearing the rge woman frantically pass through the halls, I exit the door as soon as she walks past and hurry down the corridor away from her dire. Passing through the rge stoney halls of untold secrets and a wealth of history shown in relid tapestry, amaze the historical loving brain in my head. Passing further down another unknown corridor a rge tapestry ys bare against the full wall. I walk over to a massively rge cream tapestry and admire the design of it. Bck writings of names with drawings above each, litter the tapestry. The names ect to one another in a delicate dispy of art. It’s a bunch of family trees…

  I skim over the names of the noble families oapestry, but some are curiously bcked out in thik. I walk further, my eyes narrowing on one name, a name I reize. Caspian Astarteu. My stomach tightens as I see the ey of his family’s line obscured in ink, as though someone desperately wao erase them from history. I peer closer at the crest above his family’s name, now a blotted mess of bck. A bck fme? Is that the name of his family line? Caspian Astarteu of the bck fme family? A wave of u me. It's a hat ands both resped fear, yet it's been deliberately wiped away. Why? What did he do…

  “Disfavour of the King…He dispys it publicly so everyone see your disgrace.” A harsh voice cuts the silen the air. I turn, startled at the sudden voice. Caspian? I face the rge barbari, his icy gaze locked onto me. Ah shit…

  I swallow, trying to steady my now rag heart. “So you’re disgraced?” I point out the obvious, unease building withi would make sense sidering it seems like everyone in this city hates him. He squints at me as if debating whether he should tialking.

  “They say my grandfather was a traitor to the .” Caspian's harsh tone doesn’t waiver. He stands fag the tapestry as he crosses his arms. His body tenses, as if the weight of his family's history burdens him with every passing moment. “He wao save the people…” He moves his gaze to a royally drawn family tree in the middle of the tapestry, a harsh gaze scrutinising it.

  I hesitate, the demosphere makes me y words cautiously. “What did he do?” I croak, my voice barely a whisper.

  Caspiaurns to me, his eyes dark, bzing with a deep hatred. His presence oozing with danger and disgust. "He saw the corruption. This city, this kingdom, it rots from the within. Genevieve, this pce, these people, you 't trust them.” He gres at me, as if dario disagree. The book the prince had… His pt was more than just disdain for the capital, it ersonal. His family was wronged and lived to face the sequences of that.

  “If they're so corrupt then why do you work for them?” The question burns oip of my tongue, demanding to be answered. Why would aay in a pce so tainted by ‘corruption’?

  However, Caspia answer. His lips curl slightly, an unreadable expression crossing his face before he starts walking slowly towards me. I attempt to make myself seem fearless against him, but his presence overwhelms my own.

  “It’s funny.” He says, voice low and eyes narrowing. “I put you in the scullery with a group of people, a I find you alone." His voice is ced with a dangerous, amused tone. He props an eyebrow up to me. “I thought you might be smarter than that.”

  My heart skips a beat, knowing what might e . Damn it! I thought he’d fotten.

  “People-” I stammer on my words, desperately gasping for any excuse to get out of his fast approag gate to me.“People have a desire to be free a-and I'm held captive-”

  Before I finish rambling, Caspian moves faster than I expect, effortlessly hoistio his broad shoulders. My legs dangle off his rge back, and I let out a yelp of protest, kig and squirming in his grasp. “LET ME GO!” I scream, hoping to gather any attention against this brute. I pound my fists against his back, but he doesn’t even flinch or slow down.

  He tinues walking, as if my protests mean nothing, heading toward the scullery with an unnerving calm.

  Arriving at the door of the scullery, Caspian slowly guides me to the ground, parki the entrance. I shoot him a gre, and in turn he shoots a harsher one back, clearly a my attempted escape. With a gentle push, the door swings open, and the lively chatter from within spills into the hallway, only to abruptly cease the moment Caspian steps inside.

  My mood instantly sours as the workers in the room begin whispering in a low tone, as they dart their eyes between Caspian and me. Are they talking about me? These bitches…But before I dwell on it, Mandell rushes over in a frantic distress.

  “Ah she be one of mine, we better be hurryin’ along now sir, lots of work needn’ to be done.” She fakes a smile to Caspian, hiding the real i of her wanting Caspian to leave the room. I thought Mandell liked Caspian’s men? Why is she ag so different in front of him?

  A scowl crosses my face as I look at the room of gossiping waiher he’s lying about why people dislike him or everyone here is two-faced. My scowl deepens as my irritation grows. Why is it annoying me so much? He’s literally keeping me hostage! My infuriation grows upon the realisation that being near him, has caused his mistreatment to leak onto me!

  I inhale sharply, ready to snap at the whispering gossipers, but before I unleash my frustration, Caspian’s hand cmps onto my shoulder as if sensing my iions. The touch is warm, but anding. I whip my head up, still seething, but he merely lifts a brow at me, as if dario make a se and possibly cause him mrief.

  I take a seethed breath and swallow my anger. Satisfied. Caspian gives my shoulder a small pat before turning to Mandell. “She’s all yours.” He says smoothly before striding out.

  The moment the door closes, Mandell rushes to me, gasping my arm in a hard pinch.

  “Where you been?!” Mandell in a hushed tone, shrieks at me. “I been worried sick yer be caught in trouble! And it clear you be by the pany yht!” Mandell bites her bottom lip and pyfully sps my arm with a tea towel.

  “I’m sorry...I uh wao look around.” I fumble out, still irritated at the gall of everyone and their prejudices towards Caspian. Deg to ignore Caspian’s ‘accept it face’, I determine my curiosity and morality is to not to iigate.

  “Why does everyo so different when Cas- the..Duke walks in?”

  Mandell squints her eyes to me, seemingly fused at my question. A facade breaking on her faentarily as if to ask herself ‘why did everyone despise Caspian?’ But her brief minute of befuddlement was washed away and a frown crosses her face. She leans forward to me and whispers in my ear.

  “His family be traitor, so help us, Gods he be ned.” She holds her hand to her heart as she leans back. Gods?

  With an eerily weird vibe emanating from Mandell and the octs of the room I decide to not press it. Something weird is going on here…