Chapter 67
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Emilia
Once upon a time, there was a girl with long blonde hair and boring blue eyes. She was arrogant and popular, and reckless, always doing whatever the fuck she wanted.
Then, the war came.
It tore her away from her family, from safety, from the version of herself that she still pretends she doesn’t miss. It thrust her into a life beneath the boots of a cruel dictator who punished anyone for stepping out of line.
All the girl wanted was to be left alone.
But the dictator left no one alone.
She forced the girl into a marriage she didn’t want.
And then, somewhere between the dislike and the training and the stupid, petty fights…
Somewhere between the bath he helped her take when she came back from the dictator’s minions, the evenings spent staring at the night sky together, and the nights she stayed awake to help him out of his nightmares…
Somewhere between the way he stared at her, and she stared at him…
She fell.
Heavily.
Stupidly.
In love with the man who showed her what hope looked like in the darkest night.
But she was too stubborn to ever admit it to herself, let alone him… until it was too late. The girl didn’t live in a fairytale; fairytales don’t have dictators.
The dictator ordered their Enforcers to tear the girl from the fields and drag her to City Hall.
The marble floor was cold beneath her knees as she stared up at the pristine science teacher.
“This is a disgrace,” the dictator hissed. “You’re such a disappointment.”
The girl knew she should stay silent. But that small, dying spark of hope that her husband nurtured flared inside her chest. “You should have died in the war,” she spat back.
An Enforcer swung hard and fast. The girl fell to the marble, blood splattering from her mouth.
The dictator stepped closer, staring down at her blankly, like she hadn’t been part of the girl’s previous life.
“And you should’ve been a better student,” the dictator snapped.
The girl was dragged back to the van. It rumbled to life, dragging her away from her home, her city… her husband.
The dictator didn’t care about fairness or mercy.
She only cared about power.
And so, as the van carried the girl towards hers, she thought about her life.
Once upon a time, there was a girl with long blonde hair and boring blue eyes.
She lived through a war.
She survived grief and loss.
She found friends. A family. A home.
She learnt how to start opening her heart once more. To her husband. To Zac.
No matter what happened to her, he would be okay. He would use the loss of her to fuel his fire. To fight back. To take down the dictator.
And so, with a small smile on her lips, the van carried her away from Nottingham and into the countryside beyond. Towards where her family would be waiting for her.
And out there, with no one but Enforcers watching over her, she’ll die.