Michael's P.O.V
I looked at him and back at the book. "Then the queen is our grandmother? Where is she?", I said as a lump formed in my throat at the possibility of her being behind all of the torture we experienced over the years. If it was then she is the worst of them all. Letting her daughter die and her grandchildren suffer under the bastard she appointed as the next ruler. But what doesn't make sense was that if she was behind all these. Where is she right now?
"We need to find her.", I decided, taking the book and stuffing it back under the long dirty white shirt I am now wearing. It was uncomfy feeling the hard edges of the book hit against my hip and the protruding bones of my spine. They may treat me well today but it would seem all that drugged food isn't still enough to fatten my body up. They were forcing all these new medicines and food that will help me get 'healthy', but with one whiff of my nose, I could tell it was laced with sleeping herbs.
