Chapter 22
1196 Words
Elara sat frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The warmth of the meal sat in her stomach like a stone, a reminder of a kindness she didn't understand and couldn't trust.
"My lord?" Her voice was a whisper, trembling.
Vaelith looked up, his silver eyes unreadable behind the mask.
"Yes?""I... I should return to my duties."
The words tumbled out, desperate and quick. "
It is late.
The other slaves... they will be wondering.
There is work.
Always work."She stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor.
She didn't wait for permission. She couldn't.
She bowed her head, muttering a frantic "Thank you, my lord," before turning and fleeing the room as if the devil himself were chasing her.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Vaelith stared at the empty space where she had been.
The silence returned, but now it was filled with rage.
The rest of the night was a blur of misery for Elara.
The castle didn't care about her confusion.
It didn't care about silver eyes or strange kindness.
It only cared about labor.She hauled firewood until her hands blistered and bled.
She scrubbed grease and grime from the kitchen tables until her knuckles were raw.
She carried heavy sacks of grain until her back screamed in agony.
When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the shift, the other slaves dragged themselves to the underground dining hall.
Elara sat among them, staring at the bowl of thin, watery stew
."Where the hell were you earlier?
"The girl next to her, a ragged thing named Mara, nudged her hard. "
You disappeared.
I thought one of the overseers had dragged you off to the cells. Or worse."
Elara shook her head, staring into her stew.
"Working. Just working."
"Bullshit," Mara spat, tearing a piece of hard bread. "
You looked like you'd seen a ghost. Or the King."
Elara flinched at the name.
The King.The image flashed in her mind:
The King's chambers.
The smell of wine and s*x.
The feeling of being pinned down, helpless, as the King laughed and forced himself on her, his hands groping her breasts, his breath hot and foul against her neck. "
Tight little thing," he had whispered.
"Gonna enjoy breaking you.
"She pushed the memory away, nausea rising in her throat.
"I'm fine," she lied.
She ate nothing.
She couldn't.
The bathing chambers were a nightmare of cold stone and colder water.
The women washed quickly, shivering, eager to get out of the freezing water and into whatever meager warmth their sleeping quarters offered
.Rumors flew like flies in the steam."
Did you hear?
The King's asking for new girls again."
"f**k him," someone spat. "
Hope he dies in his sleep."
"Shut up! The walls have ears!
"Elara stayed silent.
She washed the dirt and grease from her body, scrubbing her skin until it was red and raw, trying to wash away the memory of the King's hands, the King's mouth, the King's cock
It didn't work.In the sleeping quarters, the air was thick with the smell of sweat and despair.
Rows of narrow cots held broken bodies.
Elara climbed into hers, pulling the thin, scratchy blanket over her head.
But sleep didn't come.Instead, her mind wandered back to the Commander's chamber.
To the fire.
To the food.
To the silver eyes.
Why? she thought desperately.
Why me?
And then, the memory of his hand reaching for her face.
The panic that had seized her.
The terror.
He didn't hurt me, a small voice whispered in her mind.
He tried to help.
She squeezed her eyes shut. No. It's a trick.
It has to be a trick.But the memory of those silver eyes wouldn't leave.
They looked... familiar
. Like a dream she had once had of a knight in shining armor, of a promise of safety.Stupid, she cursed herself.
Dreams don't exist.
Not here.Eventually, exhaustion won.
She fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of silver eyes and cold hands.
The next morning, the sun rose over Castle Valdren, casting long shadows over the training grounds
.Commander Vaelith stood on the eastern balcony, his hands gripping the stone railing so hard his knuckles were white.
Below, soldiers sparred, steel clashing, but he didn't see it.
He didn't hear it.
All he could see was Elara's face.
The terror in her eyes when he had reached for her.
The way she had flinched as if he were about to strike her.
Why? he had wondered last night.
Why would she be so afraid?
Now, he knew.
A knock sounded behind him.
"Enter," he growled.
Captain Kaelen stepped onto the balcony, saluting. "
You sent for me,
Commander?
"Vaelith didn't turn. His voice was low, dangerous. "
Tell me about the King's habits."
Kaelen frowned. "Sir?"
"The King," Vaelith repeated, turning slowly.
His silver eyes were cold, deadly.
"His... preferences. His nightly entertainment
."Kaelen's face went pale.
He understood now.
"Ah. Well, sir... it's no secret.
Every evening, female slaves are lined up outside his chambers.
He chooses whichever one catches his fancy.
And then..." Kaelen hesitated.
"And then what?"
Vaelith's voice was a whip crack.
Kaelen swallowed hard.
"And then he forces them to... pleasure him.
However he wants.
They have no choice.
None of them do. It's... it's just how it is."
Vaelith's jaw tightened
. "And Elara?"
Kaelen looked at him, confused.
"Elara?
Sir, she... she was ordered to his chambers a few days ago.
During the banquet. You remember?
The King made those... comments. About her being tight.
About her breasts
." Kaelen shook his head, disgust evident in his voice.
"She was humiliated in front of everyone
. And then... well, we all know what happens after that.
"The world stopped.
Time froze.Vaelith felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
Elara
.The King had touched her
. Had forced himself on her.
Had r***d her.
That was why she was terrified.
That was why she flinched at a touch.
That was why she looked at him with those broken, fearful eyes.
A cold, dark fury surged through Vaelith, so intense it nearly blinded him.
It wasn't the hot, explosive rage of a barbarian.
It was the cold, calculated rage of a predator who had found its prey.
"Commander?"
Kaelen asked, stepping back.
Vaelith turned away, his back shaking with the effort of controlling himself.
"Leave me."
"Sir—""
GET OUT!" Vaelith roared, his voice echoing across the courtyard.Kaelen didn't need to be told twice.
He fled.Vaelith stood alone on the balcony, his hands clenched into fists so tight his nails drew blood.
That useless, f*****g King, he thought, his mind racing with violent images.
That monster.
That coward.
I will castrate him,"
Vaelith whispered, his voice trembling with rage.
"I will cut his f*****g c**k off and shove it down his throat until he chokes on it.
This wasn't about politics anymore. This was personal to him.
And Commander Vaelith was going to make the King pay for everything, every moment of terror Elara had endured.
Even if it meant burning the entire kingdom to the ground
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