Reroll My Fate

Chapter 8

I threw a glance Ryan was standing a few feet beside him. Well, it was probably more than a few. His hand was bound in front again like he was some sort of animal.

Rage boiled within me but reacting was only going to enrage my father and give my stepmother a show of the century.

The vast room echoed with tension in the eyes of every council member present. My father sat on his throne, looking weary but sharp-eyed. The queen stood beside him, that annoying smug look on her face.

Martin, my stepbrother, lounged nearby, watching everything with a wide grin.

The king’s gaze locked on me immediately. “Arewen,” he said, voice low and heavy with disappointment. “What were you thinking? Why would you purchase someone like him?”

My stomach twisted and for a split second, I considered explaining that Elara had technically bought Ryan and then transferred him to me. But that would only complicate things and make me look weak.

So with a deep breath, I lifted my chin, meeting his heated gaze. “I genuinely did not know who he was, Father,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my palms were damp.

“I saw him fighting at the slave market. He was… exceptionally strong. I thought he would be useful to me, so I acquired him. I had no idea he was the son of the executed traitor.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to spot a lie on the face. As expected my stepmother and her stupid son were always going to make things hard for him.

She slowly leaned forward, her face bright with ambition. “Someone of your position should have known exactly who he was, Arewen. There is no way this was an accident.”

“Perhaps she had other reasons for bringing him into the palace,” Martins added, licking his lips and I watched the queen’s eyes gleam as she planted the seed deeper.

“Maybe Arwen and this slave have been having an affair. That would certainly explain why she suddenly ended her engagement to Caspian so dramatically.”

Whispers filled the court and I looked around hoping no one actually believed that nonsense. Heat flooded my face, but it wasn’t embarrassment, it was pure, burning anger.

Before I could stop myself I turned towards the queen. My voice “Ryan has nothing to do with my decision. I ended the engagement because your nephew cannot keep his pants on. Caspian is a w***e, and his affairs are the reason I will not marry him.”

The queen’s face tightened with annoyance, but before she could retort, the king raised a hand asking for silence.

“If you truly did not know who he was,” the king said slowly, “then I can understand how this happened. But I cannot allow him to remain in the kingdom. Take him away and have the guards throw him out of the palace.”

I searched my mind thinking of some sort of excuse to give when Martin spoke. His arrogant tone echoed off the palace walls. "I'd advise killing him. He's the son of a criminal and who knows what he could do."

His words caused even more whispers and his grin widened, obviously enjoying the attention. "Who knows he might have the entire layout of the palace in his head. What if he goes to the rogues again?

Those words angered Ryan and for the first time, he looked up making Martin even bolder.

“The safest solution is to kill him.” My heart slammed against my ribs and I quickly stepped between them.

“He has done nothing wrong! Ryan is not his father. You cannot punish an innocent man for someone else’s crimes.”

The king looked uncertain, caught between both sides. The queen and Martin continued arguing for execution.

Their voice echoed against the walls and some of my father's men nodded in support. Some of them looked confused but when it was obvious no one was going to say anything I stepped forward.

"Executing him would make the crown look like it is trying to hide something. People would say we are silencing him." My voice came out more urgent than I expected but it was too late to back down. One wrong word and Ryan's blood would be splattered across the room.

"Killing innocent family members for the crimes of relatives would make the throne appear bloodthirsty. Give him a chance to prove he is different.”

My father got off his seat walking towards us and if I thought the tension couldn't get worse I was wrong. The room fell silent as he slowly walked down the steps toward Ryan.

My breath caught in my throat. I shot Ryan a quick, warning glance. He nodded but I watched his shoulders tense and slowly his tied hands balled into fists.

My father stopped directly in front of him, his eyes scanning Ryan. Not that I could blame him, he was probably larger than most of the guards with his hair and clothes covered in blood and dirt.

"What's your name?"

“Ryan Smith, Your Majesty.” He replied, not daring to lift his head up.

"I remember you," my father said with a bit of emotion in his voice only for it to fade the next second. "Do you harbor resentment toward the crown for what happened to your father?”

"I don't your majesty," Ryan replied through clenched jaws but he didn’t look at the king while speaking.

From where I stood, I could see the anger he was fighting to suppress, the way his body trembled with the effort and I silently begged him to hold it together.

“Though you did not participate in your father’s crimes, the palace cannot ignore the possibility that resentment exists. If you truly wish to live, you must prove you are not a threat. Apologize.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Ryan remained silent. I could practically feel the fury rolling off him.

The man standing in front of him was one of those responsible for his father’s execution, and now he was being asked to apologize. My heart pounded so hard I felt dizzy. I silently pleaded with him to cooperate.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall grew heavier, thicker, and more dangerous. Then the king reached toward one of the nearby guards.

Without warning, he drew the guard’s sword. The blade slid free with a metallic rasp.

He raised it and positioned the sharp edge directly over Ryan.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I waited to see what would happen next.