The Forgotten Princess Rose

"Lift your head so I can see your pretty face."

Rose reluctantly did as she was told. It was difficult for her to be here, listening to the sounds of lust that filled the room, and watching her peers in their naked forms. 

Graham, the current brothel owner, and her master, noticed how uncomfortable she looked. eight years had come and gone and yet she still couldn't get used to this. 

He relished at the sight of her, watching her squirm uncomfortably, "You've grown into such a beauty."

She didn't respond, trying her best to keep herself distracted. 

"Look at me," Graham hissed, blowing smoke from his pipe in her direction, "Don't make me get up and make you. You should be used to this by now."

She couldn't. It was all too much. 

"Raise your head or I'll kill one of them," He threatened. The corner of his lips curled, knowing she would obey. 

She raised her head slowly, much to his annoyance. 

"You need to be taught a lesson."

Rose gripped her dress. She didn't want to go to him. His lessons involved him being close. He forced her to do things she didn't want to. 

"Rose!" 

She couldn't bear this any longer. Rose ran towards the door. It was foolish. She knew. But she had to try. Perhaps this time…

"Rose!" Graham yelled, throwing the pipe to the woman beside him as he got to his feet. 

He loved her but he reached his limit. 

Rose ignored his calls. She was almost at the door. To her shock, the door swung open. She charged forward without hesitation, only to collide with a broad chest. Her heart sank. Looking up, she was face to face with a man with mesmerizing blue eyes.

A foreigner. An enemy. 

"Well, aren't you an interesting little thing?"

She cowered, lowering her eyes to the ground, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run into you. I should have watched where I was going."

"Zayne!" Graham greeted his long-awaited guest. He stepped in front of Rose, blocking her from the foreigner's gaze. 

Rose thanked her lucky stars that his guest arrived. 

"This one is off-limits. Not for your eyes."

Zayne Hamilton, general of King James's army, kept his eyes on the woman behind Graham despite the warnings. "Did I stumble into a church or a brothel? I'm not even allowed to gaze at the merchandise?"

Zayne glanced over at the women present in the room, "I've spent some time out at sea. When were naked women allowed in churches? What happened to the brothels?"

"This is my business but this one belongs to me," Graham clarified with a forced smile. He was annoyed by Zayne's remarks. 

Zayne gazed at the young woman again, "I beg to differ. But if that's what you've convinced yourself, then so be it."

Graham's smile turned into a frown when his attention remained on Rose. Zayne didn't know him well enough. If he did, he wouldn't dare speak to Rose so freely. "She is mine."

Zayne smirked. Was the brothel keeper ready to start a fight with him over a woman? He'd only just arrived and he was about to get himself into some trouble. "Easy now, I have no plans to steal what you've claimed. I'm here to talk."

"Rose," Graham called, looking over his shoulder. He was checking to see if she showed any interest in his guest. "Run along now. Try not to run into anyone else on your way back to your room."

"Yes, master."

She kept her voice low, careful not to capture the foreigner's attention even more. 

Still, Zayne watched her. This land had been a bore from the moment he stepped foot on its soil. But her appearance made things interesting. 

Rose was careful not to bump into the men standing behind Zayne as she left the room. It was a close shave. She did not want to risk bumping into another visitor. 

Music filled every corner of the brothel. Laughter never settled and the scent of alcohol lingered in the air. Right now, her fate was set in stone. She was going to become Graham's woman. 

Rose made it to her bedroom safely. She made sure the door was locked too. She backed away from it, grabbing the knife she had stolen from the kitchen weeks ago from the small table. 

Graham had stated to everyone that the room was off-limits, but when drunk, words are meaningless. 

Rose slid down against the wall, seated between the table and her small makeshift bed. She had to stay awake to protect herself. 

"Just a few more hours to go," She said, hands hugging her knees.

Rose leaned her head against a table leg. She closed her eyes, only intending to rest for a moment. But she woke up far later. 

The brothel was quieter. 

"What time is it," She wondered, rubbing her eyes. 

She stood up to look outside the window. It was still dark outside and until morning came, the brothel would remain open. 

"I need water," She murmured. She had to quench her thirst. But was it worth the risk to go to the kitchen?

Her plan was plain and simple. To the kitchen and back. She had done this before when she was desperate. She could do it again. 

Rose unlocked the door cautiously and scurried towards the kitchen. 

"More drinks!"

She glanced to her left, where she heard a man who slurred his words. The distraction caused her to bump into someone.

"We must stop meeting like this."

What were the odds?

Rose gripped her knife. She couldn't match a man in strength, let alone a trained soldier. But to survive, she gave it her all. 

"That won't do anything to me. Not unless you've laced it with something to increase your chances," Zayne started, grabbing her hand with the knife and guiding it towards himself. 

"Let go of me!" Rose pleaded in a low voice, worried about attracting more attention. 

"I am helping you. You need to place it here," He explained, the knife now pointing to the centre of his chest. "Don't walk around with this if you're not going to use it properly. And don't hesitate."

Rose kept her eyes glued to the ground. It was always best to avoid meeting their gaze. She didn't want him to misunderstand and think she was seducing him. 

"Am I really that ugly? Or is there a rule that you're not allowed to look at guests? I hope it's the latter," Zayne said as his attention was diverted to the drunken fool who was stumbling around. 

"I'm not for sale," Rose replied, knowing he was trying to sweet-talk her. 

Zayne raised a brow. "I don't recall asking you or a price. You bumped into me, little one. I didn't come here seeking your company."

She couldn't argue against that because it was true. Still, she knew it was coming. It always was. Why else would he be in a brothel? "I apologize for walking into you again. Excuse me, " She said, carefully pulling the knife away from his chest. 

"Where are the drinks, pretty lady?" The drunkard asked from behind. 

Rose turned around and hurried to get away from him before he tried to pull her close. "You have to go back to your room if you want drinks. A servant will come to you."

The drunkard smiled. She backed away at the horrible sight of his rotten teeth, wincing at the stench of rum. She knew that look. She had to get away right now. 

"Why don't you pour it or me?" He asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"How much are you?" He continued, willing to spend what little money he had left on her. "Are you mute?" 

The drunkard reached out his hand to grab her face, wanting to hold her still or a good look. 

Zayne grabbed the man's hand and bent it back, surprising Rose and the drunkard. 

He turned to Zayne, ready to fight. But when he saw his blue eyes, he turned pale. "F-Foreigner..."

It would have been better to see a ghost. 

"I prefer the name my mother gave me. But yes, I am a foreigner," Zayne replied while nodding, "To me, you're a foreigner."

The drunkard made a quick run in the opposite direction, forgetting about Rose. She was surprised. If she was alone, it would've been a lot more difficult to get the man away from her. 

She had heard many stories about people from a different kingdom. She didn't expect them to be so useful in getting rid of unwanted attention from customers. 

A daring thought entered her mind. "Can you buy me?"