Chapter 28
1671 Words
The breakfast had ended, but the taste of bile and fear lingered in the air like a bad smell.
King Lodrick stood in the War Hall, staring down at a map spread across a massive oak table.
Red markers indicated enemy positions—targets to be crushed, cities to be burned.
Black markers showed the locations of his own forces, his tools of destruction.
Several generals stood nearby, sweating, awaiting orders.
None dared speak first.
The king's temper was a volatile mix of rage and boredom, unpredictable at the best of times.
Today, the air around him crackled with a particularly dangerous kind of energy.
The doors opened.
A guard entered and immediately dropped to one knee, forehead touching the cold stone.
"Your Majesty
."Lodrick didn't look away from the map. His voice was a low growl.
"What is it?"
"The information you requested.
"Now the king looked up.
His eyes were cold, predatory.
The room grew quieter, the silence heavy with impending violence.
"Speak.
""The slave's name is Elara.
"Lodrick's expression remained unchanged.
The name meant nothing to him.
It was just a label on a piece of property.
"Age?"
"Twenty-two.
"The king folded his arms, leaning back against the table.
"How long has she been in the palace?"
"Five years, Your Majesty.
"Five years.
Still nothing remarkable.
Just another number.
Just another victim of the system he maintained
.Lodrick turned back to the map, picking up a red marker.
"Family?"
"We could not find any records."
"Of course not.
" The king scoffed, tossing the marker onto the table.
It rolled with a clatter that made the generals flinch.
"Most slaves arrive stripped of everything.
Names.
Families.
Histories.
They are nothing.
Nothing unusual there.
"The guard hesitated, his throat working.
"There is one more thing.
"That caught the king's attention.
He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What?"
"Several servants report that Commander Vaelith has specifically requested her on multiple occasions. For private meals.
For... personal service.
"The king's eyes narrowed further, a dark light igniting in them.
There it was.
The reason he had ordered the investigation.
Not the slave.
The slave was irrelevant.
A piece of meat.Commander Vaelith was not.
"How many times?" Lodrick's voice was dangerously soft.
"Three, Your Majesty.
"Silence
.The king drummed his fingers against the table, a rhythmic, threatening sound. Thinking.
Calculating.
A powerful commander.
A slave.
Something didn't fit.
Men like Vaelith didn't waste time on useless f***s unless there was a reason.
Unless she was something else.
Unless this was a game Lodrick wasn't playing.
And King Lodrick hated mysteries. He hated being out of the loop.
"Keep watching," he ordered, his voice cold as ice.
"Yes,
Your Majesty.
""I want reports on every interaction.
Every word.
Every touch.
If he looks at her wrong, I want to know. If she breathes too loud, I want to know.
Understand?"
The guard bowed lower, trembling.
"At once, Your Majesty.
"The king dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
The guard scrambled out, relieved to be alive.
For several moments, Lodrick remained staring at the map, but he wasn't seeing the enemy lines.
He was seeing possibilities.
Then he laughed softly.
A low, cruel chuckle.
One of the generals shifted uneasily, his face pale.
The king rarely laughed when something amused him.
Usually, he laughed when something interested him.
When he found a new toy to break, a new lever to pull, a new way to destroy someone's life.
And that was far more dangerous.
Elsewhere in the palace, in a room filled with the scent of lavender and suppressed rage, Queen Seraphina sat inside her private solar.
Sunlight streamed through tall windows overlooking the castle gardens, but she didn't look at the beauty outside.
A book rested in her lap.
She had not turned a page in several minutes.
Her mind was elsewhere, calculating risks, weighing dangers.
A knock interrupted the silence.
"Enter.
"The door opened.
Prince Aldric stepped inside, his face flushed with anger.
The queen immediately noticed his expression.
She didn't need to ask.
"You argued with your father again."
Aldric sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"You make it sound like I'm the problem.
"Seraphina raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp.
"Are you suggesting otherwise?
Do you think screaming at a tyrant is a good strategy?
"The prince dropped into a nearby chair, slamming his fist on the armrest.
"He threatened a servant over spilled wine.
He threatened to have the man executed.
For a few drops of f*****g wine!""
He always does," Seraphina said, her voice flat.
"That is who he is."
"That doesn't make it right!"
Aldric shouted, his voice cracking.
"It's madness! It's evil!"
"No."
The queen closed her book with a snap.
"It doesn't make it right.
But it makes it survival.
"Silence settled between them.
A familiar, heavy silence.
One they had shared countless times over the years, a bond formed in the shadow of a monster.
Aldric leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"I don't understand how people endure him.
How you endure him.
"Seraphina laughed softly.
The sound carried no humor, only a deep, weary sadness.
"Because they have no choice, Aldric.
Because the alternative is death.
"The prince looked away, his jaw clenched.
That answer bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
It felt like surrender.
Like cowardice.
His mother studied him quietly, her eyes full of pain.
"You need to be careful.
"Aldric frowned.
"Why?
Because I care about justice?"
"Because your father notices everything," she said sharply.
"He sees weakness.
He sees dissent.
And he destroys it.
Do you think you are special?
Do you think your moral superiority will stop him from putting a knife in your back?
"The prince scoffed. "Good.
Let him try."
"No!"
The queen's voice sharpened, cracking like a whip.
Aldric blinked, startled.
Seraphina rarely raised her voice.
She rarely showed any emotion at all.
"Do not mistake survival for cowardice, Aldric," she said, her voice trembling with suppressed fury.
"I have played this game for twenty-four years.
I have swallowed my pride, my dignity, and my soul every single day to keep you alive.
To keep you from ending up in a ditch like the rest of his victims.
"The queen looked toward the window. Toward the distant castle walls.
Toward the darkness that surrounded them.
"I spent twenty-four years married to your father," she whispered, her voice calm again.
Too calm.
"I know exactly how dangerous he can be.
I know what he is capable of. And I will not let him destroy you too.
"The room grew still.
The air felt thick with unspoken trauma.
Aldric lowered his gaze, shame washing over him.
For a moment, he looked less like a prince and more like a son.
A scared, angry child."I'm sorry," he whispered.Seraphina offered a tired, broken smile.
"I know.
"Another knock sounded at the door.One of the queen's attendants entered, looking nervous.
"Your Majesty."
"What is it?"
Seraphina asked, her mask of indifference sliding back into place.
The woman bowed.
"There is gossip spreading through the palace.
Fast
."Aldric groaned, rolling his eyes. "When isn't there?
People have nothing better to do than talk s**t.
"The attendant ignored him, her voice dropping.
"It concerns Commander Vaelith."Both mother and son looked up, the atmosphere shifting instantly.
The attendant continued, glancing nervously at the door. "And a slave.
"Aldric immediately remembered breakfast.
The way Lyanna had looked.
The way his father's eyes had narrowed."
So Lyanna is still talking about it," he said, disgusted.
"She's obsessed."
"Not only the princess," the attendant said quickly.
"Many servants are discussing it now.
Rumors are flying.
People are saying... terrible things.
Or making up stories.
"The queen exchanged a glance with her son.
Her eyes were cold, calculating.
Something about that bothered her.
Not because she believed the gossip.
Not because she cared about a slave
.Because she knew what happened when palace gossip reached the king's ears.
She knew how Lodrick used information. How he twisted it.
How he used people as pawns in his sick games.
And judging by breakfast...It already had.
Meanwhile, in her luxurious chambers, Princess Lyanna stood before a mirror while one of her maids brushed her hair.
Her expression was dark. Angry. Humiliated
.She could still hear Vaelith's rejection. No.She could still hear the cold threat in his voice.
The way he had looked at her like she was nothing.
Like she was dirt.
The memory made her grip tighten around the armrest of her chair until her knuckles turned white.
Rage boiled in her blood, hot and toxic.
The maid accidentally tugged too hard on a knot in her hair.
Lyanna snapped.
She spun around and slapped the girl hard across the face.
The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.
The girl cried out, stumbling backward, clutching her cheek.
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
"Useless b***h!"
Lyanna screamed.
"Can't you do anything right?"
The maid fell to her knees, trembling.
"My apologies, Princess!
I'm sorry!""
Get out!
" Lyanna shripped, pointing at the door.
"Get out before I have you whipped!
"The girl scrambled from the room, sobbing, tears streaming down her face
.The moment the door closed, Lyanna stood.
Her breathing was heavy, her chest heaving.
She crossed the room and stared out the window.
Toward the training grounds below.
Toward the soldiers.
Toward the black-cloaked commander who occupied her thoughts far more than she cared to admit.
He had rejected her.
He had chosen a slave over her.
Then another face appeared in her mind.
A slave.
Dark hair. Pale skin.
Elara.Lyanna's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing into slits.
Something was happening.
She didn't know what.
She didn't know why Vaelith was interested in that pathetic creature.
But she intended to find out.
And when she did... she would make them both pay.
No matter who she had to hurt.
No matter how many bodies she had to bury.
She would uncover the truth, and then she would destroy them both.
- Writer
