The death of the tyrant's concubine

I loved him even as he thrust his sword right through me. "Raine Stjorme, Nightshade Concubine and Princess of Drakfjord... I, Sylvos Thorne, Emperor of Thornmont, Sovereign of Fayndor, and Wielder of Briarvex... sentence thee to death." With those cruel words, he yanked Briarvex from my stomach, the sword's intricately engraved blade glistening with my blood. I sank to my knees, my black gown quickly drenched in crimson. The entire inner court had gathered in the throne room - including all 100 concubines. It was an assembly I had imagined would herald my coronation as empress. Yet, it became painfully clear that I was the only one mistaken. My hands trembled as I clutched my stomach. "How….. How could you?" I whispered. After praying for so long to be blessed... Tears blurred my vision as I gazed up at Sylvos, my heart breaking anew. Black eyes that had once gazed at me with love now burned with hollow resentment. His silver hair, which I had caressed only days before, was now crowned with jagged metal. "How could you!?" I cried louder. "I bear your child! Why would you slay your own heir when fate had denied you of any for so long?" A shrill, haunting laughter echoed through the vast throne room, chilling the air. My attention snapped to the silver throne, a grotesque seat of jagged spikes and thick gnarled vines that reached toward the ceiling like a crooked claw. From the shadows beside the monstrous chair, Isolde stepped forward, a sinister grace in her movements. Like me, she wore a flowing black gown that marked her as a Nightshade Concubine. Yet hers was embellished with bronze trimmings that glinted wickedly, complementing her fiery red hair. "You wish for His Majesty to believe the child you carry is his?" she snickered, her voice dripping with malice. "Of course!" I insisted, my hands clutching my stomach as I fought to stem the flow of blood. Each ragged breath scraped like shards of ice against my lungs. "Liar." She tilted her head, emerald eyes glinting. With cruel delight. "Ser Kaelan Blanc has already confessed that the child is his." "What?!" Her words felt like a kick to my already wounded stomach. Desperate, I turned back to Sylvos and seized his black boot. Still on my knees, my blood stained its polished leather. Surely, he would see the truth. "Sylvos... please," I begged, my voice trembling. "You must believe me. This is a lie! I have only ever loved you! I have only ever been faithful to you! For three years... Do you not see? The gods sent us this child as proof of my loyalty!" A voice like cold steel cut through the throne room. "Your Majesty, do not be deceived by this traitor's cunning tongue." I turned toward the speaker — Ser Bastian, Captain of the Briarbound Knights. He stood tall, a wall of black steel, his long obsidian hair framing a face carved from stone. "Just last week, her sister wedded the King of Pyree," he declared. "It's clear that Drakfjord wishes to conspire with our enemies. Treasons such as this cannot go unpunished." Treason? How could he make such a claim? My head whirled back to the emperor. "Sylvos, hear me! You already know this not to be true!" I pleaded. "I've begged you every day to save my sister. She was not wed to that warlord king. She was stolen!" Tears streamed down my face, and my hands grew colder, more ghostly with each passing moment. But there was no warmth in the emperor's gaze. Not even a flicker of sympathy. His boot struck my chest, sending me sprawling onto the dark marble floor. "Your disgrace has not only sealed your own ruin but that of your entire bloodline. Come dawn, the Stjorme monarchy shall find their heads adorning my throne. I'll make sure to leave room for your sister's new husband too." The court erupted in laughter, their delight echoing off the cold stone walls at their ruler's promise. With those cruel words, the last vestiges of my strength crumbled into a thousand shards. I stared blankly at my bloodied hands, the very hands that had clawed their way from the bottom of his harem to attain the coveted Nightshade rank. What had it all been for? Why had I prayed each night for the blessing of a child that seemed impossible? Despite all he had done... The creatures he chained, the wars he waged, and the lives he ruined... Why had I loved him? All for naught, it seemed. "Sylvos, I-" "You shall address me as Your Majesty," he cut in, his voice as sharp as the blade that had torn through me. My lips quivered. I remembered the night he so tenderly insisted I call him by his given name. I had hesitated, warning him that the court would see it as disrespect. But he only smiled and asked who would dare deny their sovereign's request? I could still feel the ghost of his kiss from that night... The warmth that had once soothed me... "Your Majesty," I croaked, my voice barely crying. "May I at least ask that my body be sent back to Drakfjord... So I may receive proper funeral rites?" "Denied." My gaze shot up, horror twisting my features as his smirk filled me with dread. He knew. Sylvos had never been allowed to learn the full truth of our burials, yet he knew how sacred it was to my people. Denying it could bar me from salvation. "Please... or my soul may never find peace," I begged. His smile was that of a tyrant's, dark and unyielding. He raised Briarvex once more, aiming it at my chest. "Your body shall hang from the fortress walls for as long as I reign," he promised. "But first, I shall tear that unborn bastard from your corpse and feed it to the hounds." With that, Sylvos drove Briarvex into my heart, the blade tearing through flesh and bone. I gasped, choking on blood as I struggled to breathe. The blade pulsed with wicked magic, and I watched in horror as thorns began to twist from my chest. They coiled around my wound, binding me in agony. I looked into Sylvos' eyes, and in that moment, something inside me broke. "I curse you, Sylvos Thorne," I spat, blood staining my lips. "I curse you for a thousand lifetimes. May my soul haunt you for all eternity. Until damnation do us part." Thunder rumbled outside, shaking the windows. The court fell into a stunned silence. And for the first time, Sylvos glanced around, his expression unsettled. I wished I could bring them a true storm. I wished I had the strength. I wished I knew better. I wished I never... I wished... I.. I died that day.