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31 — A taste of prison

Laura sat at the edge of her well made bed, dressed in a black silk gown and sighed greatly. She was really tired, fatigued one might call it. Her eyes burned from all the tears she'd been shedding for days, her back burned from the forced dignity she had to portray herself with as all the matters of the kingdom were passed on to her shoulders. Even her face ached from all the smiles she'd been giving people. Slowly, she climbed her bed and lay on it, her face down as she smelled the clean sheets. Few days ago—who was she kidding?— seven days ago, to be exact, she'd been dreaming of getting married. Getting married to a man who'd snuck out of his bed, out of the palace and out of her life maybe,leaving a note as the only token and disappeared into the night like the night creature he was. At first, she'd found the note endearing, thoughtful and had even smiled while reading it but now, seven days later and the note was tucked away from sight because it infuriated her anytime it was

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