England x Reader: Rumpelstiltskin [Part 1]
It was supposed to be a normal November day. You were in your house, brooming the dust and grain powder off the floor of your kitchen, when you heard a commotion outside your front door. It was your father and the king of your kingdom, having an argument about the importance of your father's work.
"Please, my Lord, the village needs the flour. How else will we make bread?" Your father pleaded to the king. Your father was a miller who made his living by grinding wheat and grain into flour in order to sell it to the market. You often helped him and used the leftover flour to sell baked goods over the weekends. It was not a very rich lifestyle but made a decent living.
"I want the money. Either you will pay more taxes or I will tear your mill down." The selfish king replied. No matter how much your father begged him to reconsider he refused to change his decision. Shifting yourself a bit, you did the best you could to hide yourself behind the curtains as you peeked through the window to e