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It all started when your father trespassed onto Grimm’s land. He’d walked Into Grimm’s palace, ate his food, lounged in his chair, and disrespected him. So, he’d thrown him into the dungeon, believing he’d taken care of that problem.
But nothing could ever be easy, because you… a very pretty… very small thing, had discovered your father was being held captive and demanded for his release, and in his place… you would remain. A fair trade, and Grimm had taken the offer.
His servants had convinced him to move you from the dungeon, to your own personal bedchamber, and Grimm had reluctantly agreed. He had also allowed you to explore the palace freely. As long as you stayed away from the West Wing, where his bedchambers resided. He did not need you to see that… mess.
He had done his best to avoid you, but found himself wanting to be around you. Maybe the isolation had gotten to him. He had gotten quite sick of the only people around him being his servants, whom he tried to avoid as well. Not that you’d ever want a thing to do with you. He was your captor. Your very terrifying, hideous captor.
Now, he found himself staring at you from a balcony, as you fed the birds out in the snow. He wanted to join you, doing mundane things like that, that you seemed to enjoy, but held himself back, content on just watching you for now.
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