The king’s mistress

Poison and Promise

Elenya smiled like she already knew the ending.

“Stop the ceremony,” she said sweetly, not even turning to the priest. “The bride would like a private toast with her beloved.”

Gasps rippled through the chapel.

Kael’s hand went to the hilt of his ceremonial sword but he didn’t draw it. He couldn’t. Not without condemning Liora instantly.

Liora stood frozen near the edge of the altar, tray in her hands, Elenya’s glass of wine at the center. The sleeping draught, hidden within, shimmered faintly in the light.

Elenya walked to her. Slowly. Deliberately.

“Such delicate hands for a servant,” she said, voice dripping sugar. “Strange, how familiar they feel.”

She plucked the glass from the tray and turned to the crowd.

“To love,” she declared. “And to loyalty.”

Then, she handed it to Kael.

“Here, my love. You first.”

The silence was unbearable.

Liora’s eyes widened this wasn’t the plan. Kael didn’t know the wine was drugged. If he drank it…

“Don’t,” she said, too soft to stop him.

But Kael had already taken the cup.

He looked at Elenya. Then at Liora. Then, without breaking eye contact, threw the goblet to the floor.

It shattered.

Crimson liquid pooled across the white marble.

Gasps turned to shouts.

Elenya didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She only smiled wider.

“So that’s how it is.”

She turned to the King.

“Your Majesty, your son has just refused the sacred rites. In front of the court. With a known traitor present.”

Every head snapped toward Liora.

Kael drew his sword.

“She’s not the traitor,” he said. “You are.”

What happened next was chaos.

Guards surged forward.

Kael grabbed Liora’s wrist. “Run!”

They darted down the side hall as the crowd erupted behind them. Noblewomen screamed. Courtiers fled. The King rose, bellowing orders. Elenya stood calmly amid the panic unmoving, untouched.

And smiling.

They burst through a hidden door, hearts hammering.

“Where are we going?” Liora gasped.

“There’s a passage through the catacombs. Mareth mapped it. We go down then out.”

They ran through narrow corridors, marble turning to stone beneath their feet.

But footsteps echoed behind them. Dozens.

“We’re not alone,” Kael said.

Liora pulled free the dagger from her skirt the one her mother left behind. “Then we stop running.”

Kael looked at her, blood on his cheek, eyes wild.

“You’re not who you were,” he said.

She smiled. “No. I’m worse.”

They turned a corner and found the King’s Guard waiting.

Kael raised his sword. Liora raised her blade.

Behind the guards, Elenya stepped forward.

She didn’t need a weapon. Her words were sharper than any steel.

“This ends tonight,” she said. “And only one of you walks out alive.”