I Was Nothing Until the King Chose Me

Episode 9

The moment we stepped into the training grounds, something in me tightened before I could even explain why. It wasn’t just the size of it or the number of soldiers moving in sharp, controlled motions; it was the feeling that hung in the air, heavy, disciplined, almost suffocating in its intensity. Bodies collided, boots scraped against the ground, and the sound of impact echoed through the cold as if pain itself had become part of the routine. I found myself staring longer than I meant to, my fingers unconsciously tightening around the fabric of Lyo’s coat as the chill brushed against my skin, barely noticed compared to what I was watching.

“If you’re expecting this place to feel welcoming,” Lyra said, her voice light but edged with something knowing as she glanced at me from the corner of her eye, catching the way my steps had slowed without me realizing, “you’re going to be disappointed.”

I let out a quiet breath, my gaze still locked on the training ground as another soldier was slammed back hard enough to make my shoulders tense in response. “Welcoming wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I admitted, my fingers tightening slightly around Lyo’s coat as I shifted my weight, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“But this…” I paused, my brows pulling together as I watched the soldier force himself back up, as nothing had happened, “…this feels like they’re being pushed past their limit and then told it still isn’t enough.”

Lyra didn’t answer right away, and when I glanced at her, she wasn’t smiling anymore. Her gaze had sharpened, fixed on the same scene, and for a second, I got the feeling she wasn’t just observing, she was remembering.

“They are,” she said finally, her voice quieter, more grounded, and the lack of softness in it made my stomach tighten.

“Because out there, when you reach your limit, no one cares. You either keep going… or you die.”

Something about the way she said it made me look at her more carefully, like there was more behind those words than she was letting on. I swallowed slightly, shifting my gaze back toward Xenon as he corrected a soldier with nothing but a look.

“He doesn’t even have to speak,” I murmured, my voice softer now, almost thoughtful, my eyes narrowing slightly as I studied him. “That’s… unsettling. It’s like they already know what happens if they disappoint him.”

“They do,” Lyra replied, her tone steadier now, though her arms crossed a little tighter against herself as if she was grounding the conversation again. “Lyo chose him for a reason. You don’t stand under someone like Xenon unless you’re prepared to be broken down and rebuilt properly.”

I let out a small breath, dragging my gaze away from the field because it was starting to feel like too much all at once. “Remind me not to ever end up under his supervision,” I muttered, rubbing my arm lightly as if that alone could shake the tension off.

Lyra huffed a quiet laugh at that, the sound softer now, more natural. “Noted,” she said, glancing at me again, her expression easing slightly.

We walked forward, and I caught sight of the lower grounds again, the workers moving carefully, quietly, and something about the way they carried themselves made me slow down.

“They’re human,” I said, more certain this time, my eyes lingering on them as one of them avoided looking up entirely.

“Yes,” Lyra confirmed, watching me now instead of them.

I frowned, my gaze flicking back to her, my voice lowering slightly. “Then why are they here?”

Her answer came too quickly. “Because they can’t leave.”

That made me stop completely.

“…what do you mean they can’t leave?” I asked, turning toward her fully now, my brows drawing together as I searched her face for something softer, something that would make that sound less final.

“They’re bound by blood oath,” she said, holding my gaze steadily, not flinching, not softening it. “Once it’s taken, they belong to the castle.”

Belong.

I hated that word immediately.

“So that’s it?” I pressed, my arms folding across my chest, not defensive but unsettled, my weight shifting slightly as I tried to process it. “They just… stay? Forever? No second thoughts, no turning back?”

“There is a choice at the beginning,” she replied, her tone calm, but I noticed the way her fingers curled slightly against her arm, just for a second. “After that… it changes.”

I exhaled slowly, looking away for a moment because something about that answer didn’t sit right with me.

“And before you ask,” she added, softer now, her gaze flicking back to me, catching the expression I hadn’t even realized I was making, “we don’t feed on them.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “I didn’t say that,” I muttered, my lips pressing together slightly as I looked back at her.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, a faint, knowing smile forming, her head tilting just slightly.

“…okay, I thought it,” I admitted under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.

Her smile softened, just a little. “We’re not what you were told we are,” she said, her voice quieter now.

I nodded, but the feeling didn’t fully leave, because everything still felt too controlled. Too intentional.

“You’re adjusting faster than most would,” she said after a moment, her tone shifting again, more observant now as she studied me.

“I don’t think I had a choice,” I replied, my voice softer, my gaze dropping briefly before lifting again.

Her eyes lingered on me for a second. “You always have a choice,” she said, though this time it didn’t sound as certain.

The silence that followed stretched just enough to feel heavy. So I broke it.

“How old are you?” I asked suddenly, glancing at her again. She smiled.

She responded, “Seventy-seven.” I stopped walking.

“WHHHAAAT...... You’re serious?” I said, my eyes scanning her face again like I could find the truth hidden somewhere in her expression. “Because you don’t look like it at all.”

“That’s the point,” she said lightly, though I caught the small lift of her brow like she expected that reaction.

“That’s unfair,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly.

She laughed softly.

“So what about Lyo?” I asked, glancing at her again, my tone more curious now.

“One hundred ninety-two.”

I blinked slowly, my lips parting slightly before I let out a breath. “…I’m mated to history,” I muttered, half to myself.

That made her laugh again, a little louder this time.

“He stopped aging at twenty-seven,” she added, watching my reaction closely.

“That does not help,” I said flatly, running a hand through my hair in disbelief.

We walked a few steps in silence before I glanced at her again, narrowing my eyes slightly as something clicked. “Then why Lysandros?” I asked, my tone shifting. “If there are older ones?”

“Because not everyone can carry what he carries,” she said quietly, and this time her voice softened in a way that made me look at her more closely.

And there it was, caught it immediately.

I smirked. “You liiiiiike him.”

Her head snapped toward me. “No,” she said quickly, but I caught the slight tension in her shoulders.

“That was wayyyyyyy too fast,” I said, my grin widening as I leaned just slightly closer, watching her reaction carefully.

“I have a mate,” she said, a little sharper now.

“Oh?” I pressed, lowering my voice like I was about to expose something. “Who?”

“Kallix.” I paused, then smiled mischievously.

“Lyra and Kallix sitting in...”

“Don’t you f*ck*ng dare,” she cut in immediately, stepping closer, her voice dropping just enough to carry weight as her eyes narrowed at me. “I mean it, Elara. Don’t finish that.”

I laughed anyway.

“You’re so serious,” I said, watching her carefully, catching the way she avoided looking at me for a second too long.

“I am,” she replied.

“I think you like him more than you’re admitting,” I added, softer now, almost teasing but observant.

She looked away again and that was enough.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“I’m know that's right,” I responded in Cardi's high voice, laughing.

And then......

“I SAID CREAMY BEIGE, NOT WHITE!”

The voice cut through everything. Sharp, annoying, and disgusting. I didn’t even think. The moment I saw Antheia towering over that girl, saw the way the servant’s hands shook, something in me snapped into place.

“Maybe if you stopped shouting for two seconds, she’d actually understand what you want,” I said, my voice cutting through the space as I stepped between them.

Silence dropped instantly. Antheia turned slowly, her eyes locking onto mine, irritation flashing immediately.

“And who exactly do you think you are?” she asked, her voice lowering, but the tension in it was obvious.

I crossed my arms, holding her gaze, refusing to give her even an inch. “Someone who doesn’t enjoy watching you make someone feel small just because you can,” I said, my tone calm, but firm enough to hold.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re bold,” she said, laughing a little, stepping closer, her presence pressing against mine like she expected me to step back.

“Or maybe,” I said quietly, tilting my head slightly as I held her stare, “you’re just used to no one saying anything back.”

A ripple of whispers spread behind us and her jaw tightened.

“You don’t understand where you are,” she said, her voice tightening.

“Then explain it,” I replied, softer now, but heavier, my gaze not leaving hers for a second. “Because right now, all I see is someone with power… using it badly.”

That hit.

Her jaw tightened the second I stepped closer, and I saw it clearly this time, not just irritation, but something sharper underneath, something that didn’t like being challenged, not like this, not in front of everyone. The air between us shifted, heavy, almost suffocating, and I could feel every pair of eyes around us without even looking.

“Careful,” Antheia said, her voice lower now, quieter, but it carried more weight than when she had been shouting. Her gaze locked onto mine, unblinking, like she was trying to measure exactly how far I was willing to go.

I tilted my head slightly, not breaking eye contact, not giving her the satisfaction of even a flicker of hesitation. “Or what?” I asked, my voice just as quiet, but steadier, my words landing slower, deliberate. “You’ll prove exactly what I already think of you?”

A ripple moved through the people behind us, I could feel it, hear it in the slight shifts, the held breaths, the silence stretching tighter by the second.

Antheia stepped forward.

Close enough now that I could see every detail, the tension in her expression, the way her eyes flickered, the way her control was slipping just enough to notice. She wasn’t used to this. That much was obvious.

“You’re very confident,” she said, and this time her voice didn’t rise, it dropped, softer, but edged, like it was meant for me alone even with everyone watching. “For someone who doesn’t understand the position she’s in.”

I didn’t move.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t even shift.

“Oh boo whoo......then explain it,” I replied, just as quietly, my gaze holding hers, refusing to give her space to dominate the moment. “Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone hiding behind power instead of actually deserving it.”

That hit.

I saw it.

The way her expression tightened, the way her control cracked for half a second before she pulled it back together. Her fingers twitched at her side, just once, but I caught it.

“You should think very carefully before you continue mutt,” she said, and now there was something darker in her tone, something that made the space around us feel even smaller.

I let out a slow breath, steady, controlled, even though I could feel my pulse picking up. “I am thinking,” I said, my voice still calm, but firmer now, each word landing with intention. “That’s why I’m still standing here.”

She took another step closer, so much so that I could feel her breath on my face, I could feel the tension in her, the way it coiled tight, like she was deciding something, calculating, waiting.

“WHAT,” she said quietly, her eyes narrowing slightly as they searched mine, like she was daring me to repeat myself. “Say exactly what you think.”

And for a mini second, I felt the weight of it. The moment hanging right on the edge of something bigger, but I didn’t back down.

I leaned in just slightly, just enough to make it clear I wasn’t intimidated, my voice dropping so only she could hear it clearly, even in the silence.

“You don’t scare me, b***h” I said.

The words settled between us.

Heavy.

Final.

And this time....

Even the silence felt like it was waiting to see what she would do next.