Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Lyra desperately wanted to hide. This cold castle had been nothing but hostile to her, and he had been nothing but cruel. This was not what she had imagined when her mother told her she was to marry a prince. 

Her door opened slowly and he entered; tall, elegant, and handsome, with long dark hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. Everything a girl would dream of. Except he was not everything she had dreamed of. 

He had seemed perfectly charming the first few times they had met. But once they were married he turned cruel and malicious, toying with her at every occasion. 

“My little pet, do not hide from me.” He sat down beside her on the bed. 

She noticed his cruel gaze, his lip curving slightly as he looked down at her. Even though he was sitting next to her, he always seemed to look down on her. 

“I was not hiding,” she mumbled, lips quivering. 

“Come, walk with me. There is something I wish to show you,” he said without any expression as he extended his hand for her to hold. 

She took his hand and he pulled her away, out the door. Briskly, he tugged her down the castle hallway, until they reached a large balcony. The city was dark at night, faint flames from lanterns lit along the road was all she could see. The castle itself was always lit up as if it needed extra light to conceal its true darkness. 

“This place is constructed from the bones of a dead beast,” he said dryly as he turned his head towards her. His piercing ice-blue eyes seemed to fill her with fear. 

She didn’t expect this to be the outcome of their life together. He was not the same person she had met.  

“Why?” she stuttered, her words seemed to falter.

She wanted to say more but fear stopped her.

“Why? This is the truth, my little pet. This carcass is our home,” he said with little emotion, amusing himself with her silly reactions.

He noticed her hesitation, her faint trembling. He loved it. There was nothing more satisfying to him than to watch others tremble at the power he held over them. He wanted to make them all feel small. He wanted her to feel how small she was next to him.

She wasn’t sure what she was asking. She could feel an uneasiness staying in this place, it felt wrong. Yet she was not one to speak her mind. She was not one to speak much at all, her words were too soft, too meek. She had failed to share her heart with the one she truly loved once. He had been a knight, full of courage and valor. Words had fallen short, she had wanted to tell him how full her heart was. But she said nothing. She had let him go. 

“Don’t go.” She had wanted to tell him that night. She wanted to reach out and grab him, to hold him, to be closer to him. She couldn’t muster the strength. Why did it always end like that? Every time she saw him, she had failed to make him stay. Lyra felt every part of her body getting weaker as she tried to muster the words. She swallowed all her words and simply watched him go. 

The knight never returned. 

The prince took advantage of her timid and soft-spoken nature . He knew how to bend her to his will, and she bent so far she was sure she would break. 

Nothing seemed to make sense to her anymore. Was it the changing tide that seemed to loom over the world? The quiver she felt in her very bones?

“I- I don’t like it here.” Her lips trembled as she mustered the strength to speak what she felt. 

He glanced at her as he leaned against the balcony railing, “It doesn’t matter if you do. You are my wife now, you will learn to like it.” 

His voice made her insides churn, it made her want to roll up into a ball. It felt like he was inside of her, as if he was controlling her every move. 

“I- I want to go home,” she stuttered, finding bits of courage. 

“This is your home, my little pet,” he grinned and let his finger slide up her arm. 

She took a breath, almost swallowing her words again. He gripped her arm hard, digging his nails into her skin. She winced, tired of the pain she stared into his ice-blue eyes. 

She trembled yet gathered courage, “Y-you should call me Lyra. I am not a pet.”

His laughter hit her, “Do not mock me, little pet,” he squeezed her arm harder. 

Lyra let out a whimper before she, out of desperation, took out a small silver knife from her long white sleeve. It was something she had kept since the day they were married, but had lacked the courage to use. 

She hid the small knife in her hand as she brought it up to his face. She placed her fingers gently on his cheek before sliding the silver knife between her fingers. In one swift motion, Lyra stabbed him right in the left eye. He shouted out in pain and let go of her arm. He gripped his face, screaming before she shoved him off the balcony. She watched as he fell down from the castle. Far down. She hoped he died. She hoped he would be crushed into bits and pieces. 

She dropped the knife and clenched her fists. She needed to run. For once she had spoken her mind. For once she had been brave enough to act. Perhaps it was rash, but she knew that he deserved every bit of it. 

Her feet carried her far away from the castle and the royal city. The wild was ahead of her, and she didn’t want it any other way. It was the path home after all. 

Lyra removed her boots and softly stepped on the grass, making her way across the meadow. How she had longed to feel the grass beneath her feet. A smile formed on her face, and she twirled around.  A part of her was scared, terrified to her core, but she had never felt this free before. 

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The prince straightened his body, his bones cracked as his limbs snapped back one by one as he got up from the ground beneath the castle. He adjusted his clothes and pushed his ruffled hair back into place, “How troublesome, yet quite interesting. Perhaps I misjudged my little pet,” he grinned wide as he held his bleeding eye.